#grapefruit duo

[honeyspotpie]

A silly little Sora (and Arin :9) doodle I did on my 2DS!! Love them to bits <3

Full image under cut :0

[a-forbidden-detective]

Curious add-ons: Foreshadowing and when subtext becomes text (Part 3)

Squeezing two chapters into one episode can be quite a challenge. One, the continuity is going to be broken. Second, the narrative is going to be rushed leaving some attributes of the characters out.

Where was that scene where Toto mentioned his grandmother bc it reminded him of Ron’s fave tv program or him (mis)stepping again on the cat?

But at the same time this is also a chance to edit out or fine-tune some panels that might not affect the whole story. Or probably make another story altogether.

Like this entire scene for example. It is amusing that the anime writers chose to make the shooting star invitation appear already in the beginning of the episode, which Toto forgot to tell Ron after seeing the latter’s pink grapefruit eyes. The bloodshot eyes deeply concerned him only to find out that the culprit was Ron’s discovery of the wonderful world of the TV.

Unlike in the manga, where Toto has no idea, who the sender was, In the anime he knows the sender but not well enough. So anime writers, what are you up to? It could be for logical reason. As a police officer Toto should not be trusting of any unverified letters sent to him, which the manga just set up bc Akira wrote it.

Or, hear me out, if you are reading the manga or have read this chapter, this is going to be another setup for Ron. Another angst-filled one at that.

Then the invitation appeared again during the last 10 minutes or so, without the disturbance of a TV crew who, in the manga showed up during the duo’s dreadful/anxious moments. Ron, immediately ceased the invite and decided from then on that they must go there. No time for verification.

Toto has the invitation all the time with him in the anime and is holding on to it till he finds the right moment.

At first glance, the premise is Toto visits Ron to ask if the forbidden detective wants to be his plus one. Isn’t that thoughtful of Toto? It sounds so romantic, isn’t it? But what if Toto has an agenda? Or someone has and is only using Toto to get to Ron?

I am curious of the next episode(s). There are five chapters in the manga alone for the succeeding arc.

Anyway, the dialogue in the last 15 minutes or so has changed.

From Chapter 8:

Ron: I... almost ended up killing you. If something like this happens again, and the person I’m solving a case with dies… Forget being a detective, Id be so overwhelmed with despair that I wouldn’t be able to go on living.

From the episode 6:

Ron: “Something like that”? I nearly killed you. If anything like it happened again, and you died I'd despair of myself and wouldn't be able to carry on.

The difference lies that the anime writer has edited out the flowery generalisation but immediately got on with the killer word “you” as in Toto Isshiki.

And this momentous addition:

Toto: Until you can believe in yourself, I'll stick with you! Okay?

So far, my RonToto heart is full. But hopefully, the writer will stick to it until the end.

PS: They might forget Toto’s mention of grandmother but they make sure that he is polite and has good manners saying his apologies again for Ron’s eccentric behaviour.

[runawayolives]

White man in 1985

Pairing: Peter Ballard x reader

Warnings: 80s period typical misogyny. Based on Bo Burnham's song, 1985.

Summary: Peter and Y/N both had terrible days, being new in Hawkins is not as easy as they planned it would.

Word count: About 3.2k

Stranger things Masterlist | Masterlist

Since the three of you started living in Hawkins as a family, you had already managed to form a routine. You would wake up at around six, shower, get dressed, and go downstairs for breakfast. By the tie you sat at the kitchen table, El was rubbing the sleep off her eyes, and Peter was making breakfast with messy hair and an apron on top of his pajamas. After breakfast, you would get all the documents you needed, kiss the two of them goodbye, and walk out the door. You would drive to the firm and be there from nine to five.

Peter and El, had a different routine. Your husband would wake up with the shower's sound turning off and go into your daughter’s room to wake her up. El was a morning person, contrary to her two adoptive parents, which made the routine easier for Peter. Once the girl woke up, or more or less, she would drowsily go down the stairs and wait patiently at the table in the kitchen, excited for her serving of Eggo waffles. Peter and EL would both get a kiss goodbye and be left in the house alone. 

Because El was being homeschooled until both adults saw it was safe for her to go to the town’s middle school, she and Peter would spend the day together. On Wednesdays, they would go shopping and practice math and percentages and once they got the receipt, they would do some easy algebra at home. El enjoyed going to the supermarket. On Wednesday mornings, the store would be practically empty, and she would get to spend some time with her dad. The young girl did notice that as time progressed, more people would come in on their day, especially Karen Wheeler, their neighbor next door. El liked Karen, she was nice and would let Mike and her play as long as they wanted. 

Peter had other opinions about her, but wouldn’t voice them out loud in front of his adoptive daughter, considering she was still getting on on social cues and she got along a lot with the Wheeler’s only son. 

The Ballard father-daughter duo were wandering around the fruit aisle, deciding what would be cool for the fruit salad they wanted to make after hearing a story about you making them with your siblings growing up. 

“What about grapefruit.” Peter looked at where Eleven was squinting to see the small name of the product. 

“We got that once for your mom, remember? She said it tasted like orange juice and toothpaste?” Your husband doubted the young girl forgot. After a failed recommendation from one of Karen Wheeler’s friends, something about a grapefruit diet, El had been excited to get her mom one of those, just because Mrs. Carlson had made them sound so fantastic. Once you tried them, you described the taste with a smile, not wanting to bum the girl. The morning after the grapefruit incident, Eleven was excited to try the magical taste of orange juice and toothpaste. You and Peter would never forget the face of the little girl after she took a big sip from the glass of freshly made orange juice Peter had made that morning. 

After swallowing, El hugged you and apologized for making you eat the fruit. You laughed it off and assured her you didn’t feel forced to do anything, and that you enjoyed the new experience. 

“True.” Peter grabbed a few apples and showed them to the young girl, who gave him a nod of approval. 

“Oh, you’re getting fruits! So fun, I recommend the grapefruits.” They both turned around to look at the newcomer, a one and only Mrs. Wheeler.

“Mommy thinks they taste like toothpaste and orange juice.” The older woman looked quickly at the Eleven and then turned to look back at her attractive neighbor.

“Oh, well, I completely recommend them.” El walked away to grab some oranges she had seen, leaving Peter and Karen alone, or at least out of earshot. “So, Peter, how’s the babysitting going?” Your husband looked at your neighbor quizzically, not understanding her question.

“What babysitting?” 

“You know, taking care of Elaine?” 

“It’s not babysitting when you’re the parent, right?” Karen giggled softly, not knowing how to go from there. 

“Well, you know, mothers know best, fathers just follow.” Karen gripped the cart harder, nervous under Peter’s strong gaze. 

“Mrs. Wheeler, I don’t know how you do it in your home, but I would appreciate it  if you didn’t question our methods.”

“I’m just wondering, how would you know what’s best for your child when that is your wife’s job? You should be the lawyer, she should be with Elaine.” Eleven came back with even more fruits than just the oranges, which marked the end of the uncomfortable conversation. 

“We’ll see you around Mrs, Wheeler.” 

Peter had heard comments like this before, and he knew he would hear them many times again. It was not easy for him to do this transition, not at all. He had been in the lab for a bit more than 20 years, since the thing with his family. He didn’t have the 80s social mentality, yet he was more progressive than the majority of Hawkins. 

When he and Y/n were planning their escape from the lab, she explained the plans after they got out. The job she had already gotten at the firm, and how he would stay with El at home until she was okay to go to school with all of the kids with normal upbringings. Peter was not comfortable at the beginning with the idea of him not working, maybe even you having a job. But after he thought about it more that night, he realized that he met you while you were working, so it made no sense for him not to be okay with you not working. And him staying at home taking care of El and the house, teaching her the basics to integrate into the middle school was as noble as any other job. 

Thanks to him being a stay-at-home dad, he would help El adapt during this scary transition, and at the same time give himself some time for adaptation also. Getting in the lab in ‘59 and not leaving until 83 was going to need a lot of getting used to. And he wouldn’t have the space for that personal and mental growth if he was working at some job he wouldn’t even like that much. Peter would like to work on something psychology-related, but from what he had been able to read at the public library was that he would need a college certificate for any of the jobs. Apparently being locked in a lab for two decades wasn’t enough training. 

He had told you about this, and you had been supportive. You had started setting some money aside to be able to pay for Peter’s college education, which he would get once El started school. He had also gone to the High School psychologist, to get some directions on where to start in his free time and what he would need to get a similar job to hers. The studies were a few, and they took a few years, but after El got into school, he would have enough free time to attend classes and still be able to take care of the majority of the house chores. 

None of this was easy for Peter, but he liked to put things into perspective every time he felt underwhelmed. And the perspective was simple: He had married an amazing woman and had adopted an amazing girl that every day were teaching him how to be a better person, how to love and be loved. 

…

For you, the moment you stepped foot on the firm, the onslaught of old-fashioned mentality was already brewing. Hawkins being a small town implied that everyone knew who you and Peter were, especially with your interesting home dynamic. 

The moment your boss interviewed you, Mr. Harrington was impressed with your resumé, or better said, with your Harvard Law diploma. The moment he shook your hand when you were leaving, your future boss said: “We’re looking forward to working with you, Miss Y/LN. Is your fiancé also going to apply to work here?” You kindly smiled and said that he didn’t go to law school. 

The connection made sense. Or better said you could follow Mr. Harriongton’s train of thought. You could only be engaged to a man that was the same or better than you academically. Why would a man want to marry a woman with better education and/or job? That could only be emasculation, for your wife to be the breadwinner in the relationship. Surely your fiance would have gotten an education at two Ivys or had been valedictorian when he graduated from Harvard. 

Once you started working, the scandal of your marriage became the biggest gossip topic since who knows when. Because of this, the partners and other lawyers didn’t shy away from comments that weren’t acceptable in the workplace, and outside of it. Comments and the regular invitation to cheat on your husband, to spend some time with a “real man”. When things like this happened, sometimes even from your boss, you would wonder how is it that they could later show up and look at their wives in the eyes. Something along the lines of, “hey honey, (you were sure they didn’t thank their wives for anything) shitty casserole, oh, guess what? I asked my younger coworker to sleep with me. Goodnight.” 

But today, oh, today was incredible. 

It started with the morning meetings, where they announced the new partner of the firm. As usual, they hadn’t waited for you to come to start. Although, maybe that was better, considering the first 20 minutes of every meeting were discussions of “men things”, things you weren’t supposed to form part of. This time, you only had to sit through five minutes of it, sadly, you didn’t save yourself from inhaling more cigarette smoke than your aunt Fillis had smoked in her life. Once Mr. Harrington stood up, the nightmare began.

“First things first. I’m proud to announce that Ed is the new partner of our firm. Ed, you did a bitching job with the Emmerson’s case, that intimidation technique you used on their pussy ass lawyers was on spot.” Mr. Harrington, after this amazing news, poured himself a glass of scotch and drank it in a go. At 9.30 p.m. on a Wednesday. After some other announcements for the morning, you were all dismissed. 

“Mrs. Ballard, please come to my office, there are some things we have to go over.” It took you a lot of willpower not to throw your files at your boss's face, considering all of the brilliant things he had said first thing in the morning. 

Emmerson’s case, that was all of your doing, as always. Dear Ed had awful evidence, that was more incriminating for your client than favorable. If it weren’t for you, you would have ended up in court, and only losers go to court. It was sad to admit that you weren’t surprised that your hard work was recognized as some white man’s. This morning you felt bold, so you acted boldly.

“Don’t you think it’s interesting that every case that hasn’t gone to court and that we’ve won was done by me and someone else?” You sat down after your statement, and your boss raised his gaze from his cigar to look at you. 

“Of course not. I’m smart enough to see patterns.” You rose an eyebrow, knowing something was going to follow that. “But, I’m smart enough not to give you the promotion, but to your partner in the case.” You leaned back into your seat, knowing that you had to get ready to listen to bull crap. 

“How does that logic work?” 

“Y/N, I know you are our best lawyer. Everyone in the firm knows. But it’s not a good image, not good at all.” Mr. Harrington then poured himself another glass of scotch. “We would lose a lot of rep if our best lawyer was female, you have to understand.” 

“So instead of giving me some kind of recognition, you award my partner. Why?” Mr. Harrington stood up and gripped the armrests of your chair.

“I cannot give you the recognition, so I give it to your partner. But I know it’s for you, and you know it’s for you.” 

“I didn’t know that was recognition, and how is that fair?” Your boss backed down under your fiery gaze. “You’re rewarding mediocrity and ignoring my hard work. You need me, you know your other lawyers don’t even reach above average. I’m the one fixing your so-called rep.” You knew Mr. Harrington was aware of all of this, but you also knew that he hired you expecting your husband to join the firm. 

“What do you want?” 

“What do I want?” You raised your head to look at your boss with more defiance. “I want recognition and an ounce of respect. I want a decent desk, and to stop being treated like a secretary.” This is when you got arrogant, you could say. “ I want these requests to be met, or I will happily work for someone else.” 

“Okay.” Mr. Harrington looked fairly calm, considering the outburst you had just shown. “Five more cases won and you’ll have your own office. Ten, you’ll get a promotion. Twenty, you’ll get to be a partner. in a year.” 

“Done.” 

…

Once you left his office, you met Ed at the door. The little mf had an arrogant smirk plastered on his stupid face. 

“So, how does it feel to have worked on a case with a partner?” 

“Underwhelming.” You walked away, fast enough to not soak in that much of his glare. 

After some tie looking over your files on the new case. You had piled up a few of the books in the meeting room that had some information you would need. Ed, magnanimous as always, walked straight to your cluttered desk, took three of them, and walked away. 

“Mr. Roberts, I was using those. I would appreciate it if you would put them back on my desk.” You pulled your reading glasses off to look at the new partner intensely, not ready for immature behavior. 

“Mrs. Ballrd, are you at that time of the month? Stop being a bitch.” You could tell Edward Roberts was getting nervous under your gaze. Peter had affectionately called it your serious mom gaze. According to him, you already had one, your intimidating lawyer glare. The difference was easy, one was designated for children, and the other one for people you found challenging in your professional field. Roberts, for obvious reasons, got the mom one.

“I’m not your mother, I’m not your wife nor your daughter. You can treat them however you feel like, but I demand respect. I am your equal, and if I ask you to return the book I was using, I expect you to follow my request.” You were speaking slowly, loudly, and clearly. Your whole demeanor resembled intimidation and control. 

“I don’t know how you do it at home with that pussy of a husband, but I am your superior, and you should keep that in mind.” 

“I don’t think your wife would appreciate hearing about your frequent meetings at the gentlemen’s club and those phone calls you like to make after lunch.” You tilted your head to the side, mockingly making a concerned face. “I would gladly represent her for the divorce case. Considering you’re such an amazing lawyer, you’ll do fine.” 

“I can get you fired for this.” 

Ed set the books down and walked away, muttering something bout getting respect fucked into you right. You turned around to look at Mr. Harrington’s office, who proudly smiled at you. Your turned around and proceeded as if you hadn’t been interrupted.

…

Once home, you took your high heels off and threw them as far as you could, making a mental note to pick them up later. El ran to the garage entrance to say hi, and you kissed her forehead. Peter then joined the two of you. You kissed him too, smiling when you heard El’s small noise of disgust. The first weeks you were a family, Eleven live to see her new parents love each other, but after too many afternoons spent with the neighbor and his friends, she had decided to fake disgust. 

Peter then hugged El closer to him and kissed her forehead. “Is it still ew, young lady?” El looked up at her dad, a bashful smile on her face. 

“No.” Her response was a small whisper, but you both heard it nonetheless. El adored the floor Peter walked on, and you lived to see moments like this happening to your little family. Especially after all the events, you went through regularly. 

“Honey, I need wine during dinner.” Peter chuckled, shaking his head.

“Believe me, after today, me too.” 

…

After dinner, you and Peter lay in bed together, in silence, basking in each other's presence. 

“I love you. I want you to know I wouldn’t change anything in our family.” You knew Peter said this, more to himself than to you. You could get a fair idea of what had happened today, and decided to wait until he was comfortable enough to tell you about it. Or less mentally drained, better said.

“I love you too. You’re such a great partner, so supportive. Brave, confident, patient. The list can go on. I see you, Peter, and I know this isn’t the easiest for you. I’m so grateful for your efforts and resilience.” You shifted closer to him. “I know we hear loads of shit every day about our family. But if I had the chance to change how my life went, if I had the chance to decide again to work or not at the lab, I would choose the lab, a million times. Just because I know you and El were there.” Your arm went around his waist, noses touching. 

“You’re always complimenting me. But I see you too, Y/N. I see how you work day and night to guarantee we’re stable. How you make an effort to make time for your job and us. How you always make sure El and I are okay before you can relax. I see all of this, and I couldn’t be more grateful to you.” Peter pulled a strang of your hair behind your ear. “If it wasn’t for you, El and I would still be stuck in that lab, and we wouldn’t have this amazing family.” He kissed you softly, stroking your cheek. I can’t say I don’t feel like I’m dragging you down, I can’t say I don’t know you can do better. But knowing this makes me realize that if you stay with me, the useless husband that can’t maintain his wife and daughter, then you must love me deeply and truly.” You twirled one of his wavy strands. 

“Love, you’re the only one for me.” You turned the bedroom light off and hugged your husband until you couldn’t stand the body heat anymore.

AN: Thank you for reading this installment of the First-day series, I hope you enjoyed it. If you have a request or ask, feel free to send them to my inbox, I love to see what people think and want to see in other parts.

[mangoshorthand]

Flesh and Blood- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch1 (Hard Feelings Part 3)

SUMMARY: As Christmas approaches, everything between you and Five is perfect...until a destructive temporal anomaly gets in the way. Five is convinced another permutation of himself is to blame. Nothing's simple when you're in a relationship Five Hargreeves: could your loyalties be tested in a way unique to him? Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

It's a March Holiday fic. Just what you always wanted, right?

Chapter One: Another Apocalypse

It’s Saturday morning. When you left him, the bedroom window and curtains were cracked so that pale-toned winter sunlight bathed the bed in a slanting shard. The chilly air felt pleasant on your skin and clean in your lungs, warm as you both were between the bedclothes.

He was asleep with his head turned from you, the light and shadow falling on his face. The fine hairs on his neck stood on end with the cold air. He had been snoring very lightly. The rays of light and very slight breeze tangled in his hair, fluttering it occasionally. You might have wanted him to wake, yet you could also watch him sleep for hours; you could be happy here, feeling his warmth. 

But your bladder was no respecter of such sentimentality. It soon became imperative to leave the bed. After relieving yourself and taking a painkiller for a threatening headache, you’d make your way down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.

You try to be quiet as you re-enter the bedroom but he stirs almost immediately.

“Mmm…coffee?” his voice is hazy.

“Yep. Good morning.”

“Morning, dear one. C’mere”

You put down the breakfast tray and rejoin him on the bed. He wraps his arms around you and you lay your head on his chest. He puts his mouth and nose against your hair and inhales. 

It's been a blissful six months since the JUICED scandal. Since you started paying the (largely symbolic) rent to Reginald's estate, you'd felt better; stronger. As a result there's a new feeling between you; you can riff, harmonize and improvise around one another like a string duo- switching who plays the base notes as needed. True, it's not as if he's been seriously tested again since the JUICED scandal but, so far, it's been...nice.

Again, the breeze plays around your entwined bodies. He’s sure he can feel the rush of serotonin as he breaths in your scent…serotonin or love; call it what you want. 

"How are you today?" he asks.

"Another headache."

"Really?" You can hear the worry in his voice.

"I took a painkiller: it's fine." then, to distract him, “How about we go out today?"

He grunts.

“Gonna need at least three coffees.”

You extract yourself from his arms and bring him over a cup. He takes a grateful sip.

“Ahhh. That’s good. Do I smell bagels?”

You hand him one plate and grab your own, sitting back down beside him with your own mug. For a few minutes, you eat and drink in companionable silence. Then, with your breakfast eaten, you turn to him.

“Shall we go Christmas shopping?”

He groans, “I think I'd rather scoop out my own testes with a grapefruit spoon.”

“I could arrange that for you?”

He grumbles. You kneel on the bed and swing one leg over him.

“Watch it!” he puts his coffee cup on the nightstand to avoid you knocking it out of his hands. 

You sit on his knee, facing him.

“Come on,” you wheedle, “we can go and get cocoa and walk in the park and go to the German markets.”

“Kill me,” he groans but he’s smiling too, bringing his hands to your hips.

“You’re the one with the huge family to buy for. Let’s get all our gifts out of the way.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” you say, pumping your fist, “but you have to promise not to be surly. Ooh, and let’s go ice skating!”

“NO ice skating!”

You laugh and kiss him. He responds enthusiastically, laughing a little into your mouth.

“I gotta draw the line at ice skating but I’ll do the rest.” 

Five’s enjoying himself more than he wants to admit. Today, your joy is infectious in a way that makes you radiant. 

His Christmases since arriving home had always been participated in out of obligation. He’d only really bought gifts for his nephew- he and his brothers didn’t often exchange them, although they all got together for a meal. 

Though he’d been with you last year, you were still recovering in hospital from your encounter with Michael Monroe so hadn’t been able to go Christmas crazy...which he's just learning is natural to you.

Despite feeling slightly sick from the glühwein, this is undeniably pleasant. He even found himself fully engaged in picking out a gift for Lila, of all people. He'd even gone so far as to recommend one bracelet over another- and it was the bracelet he thought Lila would like more, too. 

Now he’s standing in a store debating the merits of various gingerbread houses. He's laden with all your shopping bags as well as his own because you keep leaving them on the floor in your excitement to make the next purchase. If he were a less cynical man, he might call this adorable rather than annoying.

While Five valiantly tries to remain cynical, it’s hard. God knows he is not an easily led man, yet he's helplessly borne along in the wake of your excitement.

"It's style over substance,"  he says, indicating the giant gingerbread house you're standing beside, "if it's gonna get eaten then it's the taste that matters. Santi will demolish whatever we buy in five minutes anyway so what's the point?"

When you look at him, you're impassioned to a point that makes him want to laugh.

"Your shitty-ass gingerbread house doesn't even have a second floor. This is a gothic revival gingerbread house. Look at the windows! Look at the little wreath on the door! Look at the roof gables!"

"You're gonna eat it, not move in....and it's ninety dollars!"

"Oh fuck off. I've seen your bank balance, Five Hargreeves. This is Christmas."

He shakes his head at the absurdity of it all.

"You know, for an atheist with criticisms of capitalism, you're pretty into this."

You pout, forcing a smile from him. Despite this, he still tries to dissuade you.

"You know it will have gone stale by Christmas, anyway.

"You think I’m stupid? I'm not saying we get one now. I'm thinking to PRE-ORDER."

You give him a look of impatient, electrified enthusiasm, shining eyes bulging out of your head, eyebrows in your hairline and corners of your mouth turning down. You look entirely mad.

And then he’s impelled to take action by something stronger than his reason.

“You want to meet me on the square in an hour?” he asks

“Why?”

He tilts his head noncommittally. 

“Maybe I’ve got…stuff to buy.”

“Hmm. Ok,” you say, grabbing him by the front of his coat, “maybe I got stuff to buy too.”

Then, you kiss him briefly on the lips.

And there's your smell, your soft lips, your smile….

He doesn’t consciously know where his feet are taking him until he’s there and staring in the window. How the hell has he come to this?

He’s not an easy man to buy for. His birthday back in October was tricky enough. He’s been experimenting more recently with clothing beyond suits...but you don’t just want to buy him a shirt or something: he's not your Dad. You find yourself in an antique bookstore with creaky floorboards. It smells strongly of furniture polish and beeswax. The mahogany counter and bookshelves shine with them.

 It’s one of those places where the salespeople don’t fully trust you unless you look like a fellow collector. The tweed-suited man eyes you with benign suspicion as you enter. He takes his feet off his desk and stands to assist rather than letting you browse and potentially damage his stock.

“Good afternoon Ma'am."

"Hi," you smile.

"Are you looking for something in particular?”

“Uh- just a Christmas gift for my partner.”

The guy retains his polite smile, but you think you see something die behind his eyes nevertheless.

“Do you have anything in mind?”

You were overjoyed with your purchase.  It had set you back a pretty penny, but it was more than worth it when you imagined his face. By the end of the encounter, the salesman had become much more unctuous. 

One of the advantages of living all but rent-free in the family compound of an eccentric dead billionaire was being able to save pretty much your whole paycheck.This was aided by the fact that said paycheck had increased significantly a couple of months ago. 

You'd finally achieved the promotion you privately thought you'd deserved for eighteen months. You'd like to think that the higher-ups simply noticed all your hard work but this would be optimism to the point of stupidity. You'd become a bit of an office celebrity since the JUICED scandal.

The domino mask you'd worn at the press-conference did not shield your identity from those who already knew you. You knew the news footage had been widely shared between whispering co-workers. For weeks afterwards, you'd catch people looking from you to their computers and back again. In addition, Neil from HR told a pretty convincing story about how he'd seen you meet and be driven away by 'that Hargreeves boy from the papers' in a reconditioned Corvette Stingray. 

The book you'd bought for Five was a rare find and couldn’t be more perfect for him - it was beautiful, meaningful and came with that old-book smell that you’ve come to associate with him. 

He collects voraciously, spending hours re-stitching broken bindings and restoring or replacing worn endsheets. Having lived most of his life in a ruined library where most of the books had been completely destroyed, he hoarded books on almost any subject. The older they were, the more he valued them. He's never confirmed this, but you think that perhaps his love of these aging survivors is a deeply personal identification. 

Another headache has been threatening for the last quarter of an hour, so you sit down on a bench to wait for him. Shoppers pass with the bustle of human activity. You let your head lean forward a little and close your eyes.

And then, a rushing sound and whip-like crack.

You feel a ripple like electrical wind pass through your skin. Your stomach flips as if you’ve just missed a step walking downstairs. You and many of the people around you let out little exclamations of surprise- as you look sharply up, you see people's hair and shopping bags rustle as the almost-invisible force, (whatever it is), passes. A man standing a few feet away begins to scream. His body is caught in what looks like a film of blue light into which energy courses with a thrumming that hurts your already aching head. As he yells, fights and flails to free himself, it warps and flexes with his movements. Sparks fly with a rumbling sound like thunder. 

You only have time to gasp in horror before Five blinks into being, still holding shopping bags. He raises his arms in an instinctive protective gesture, one over his own head and the other holding you back and behind him. You both watch as, in under a second, the void consumes the shrieking man and collapses in on itself with a buzz and flumping sound. Dropping the bags, Five’s hand smacks against his forehead.

“SHIT.”

People around you scream, the man who had been beside the void’s victim panics and yells:

“Kevin! KEVIN?”

Five ignores him and looks wildly around. He scans the sky, the ground, surrounding buildings and then the crowd. His body language has taken on that frenetic energy that comes over him when on the job. He pats down his own body, searching urgently.

“Pen. I need a pen. Anything.”

You pat your pockets uselessly, knowing there’s nothing there either.

“Why don’t I carry pens?”, his hand flies back to his forehead he looks around desperately, before yelling, “SHIT!” again.

“What is it?”

“I don’t…it can’t be…wait- is this stage one? No…because then I wouldn’t have asked that. Or is that what I want me to think?” he scratches his neck distractedly, his face lined with mistrust.

“Five?”

He begins to pace.

“It was me. I felt it.”

“What?”

His wild eyes find yours. He hesitates for a fraction of a second and then tells you:

“That was my power. I know the feeling. I felt it from across the street. That-” he points at the yelling man, “-was me. That was one of my temporal portals. What the hell do I think I’m doing?"

His hands come out to feel the air in front of him in the direction of the vanished portal. He draws in breath through his nose as if searching for a scent.

"It feels...like nonsense." His eyebrows contract even tighter. Again, his eyes rove your surroundings and then, finding nothing, he yells with frustration. 

“WHERE ARE YOU, ASSHOLE?” he screams into the crowded street. After a few more moments of pacing, he snatches up the bags and grabs your hand.

“Come on, if he’s going to go anywhere, it'll be the Academy.”

Back at home, you sit downstairs in the living room. Five’s rapidly filling a notebook with scribbled calculations and mutters to himself compulsively. He’s been like this all the way home, speaking in random disconnected phrases that don’t mean anything and don’t seem to answer your questions: "Doesn't work with the fifth principle" or "Is this a Dallas permutation?"

“Five"

He jerks his head as if displacing an irksome fly.

"Can you explain this more?”

He holds up a finger imperiously and continues scribbling for a few seconds before looking up at you, his pen poised above the paper as if it’s taking all his self-control to pause its track across the page.  

“I will. I promise. Just give me a few minutes. Get them all here- all of my brothers. Now. We need a meeting,” he holds your eyes for a second, clearly seeking affirmation that this satisfies you for now. 

You nod your acceptance; your appreciation of this consideration. 

Five took a lot of persuading to join the Hargreeves family group chat, but since giving in, he’s been a solid contributor. Now, as you message the group, your message appears right below one from this morning in which he joked that he used Lila’s lost razor to shave his balls. 

You: Emergency meeting asap. Five says apocalypse-level shit. @all

Diego: Fuck.

Sloane: With you in 30 minutes

Viktor: Coming. 30 minutes too.

You: @Klaus??

Lila: Try the 3rd floor bathroom.

It took you having to nearly knock the door off its hinges to get Klaus to respond . He’d been listening to headphones and seemed mildly surprised when he popped his head around the door to find you looking exasperated. When, with a towel wrapped around his waist, you and he re-enter the living room, Lila and Diego are attempting to question an impatient Five, still scribbling incomprehensible math.

“Shut UP. I’m nearly done.”

Lila matches his exasperated tone.

“The hurry the fuck up!" 

Finally, he throws the book down and stands.

“Okay: I’ll explain it to the others when they get here. We all need to be on the lookout for another me.”

Klaus and Diego let out sighs of frustrated weariness as Lila says:

“Oh great. Younger or older?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, there’s a version of me running around making real shitty time portals to suck up Christmas shoppers."

“Why would you do that?” Diego asks, as if stung at Five’s behavior.

“I. don’t. know." the toes of one foot begin to tap, "I just know it was my power and the math on the relativity vector is nonsense.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, sweeping it out of his eyes.

 “Time travel’s a crapshoot at the best of times but this…I’d barely even call this time travel. I doubt if that guy it caught even exists anymore. He’s probably in a thousand pieces all over the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.”

He turns to you, looking at you intensely.

“You were right there. Did you see where it came from? Did you see me?”

“No,” you say, “I felt it though. I felt it ripple.”

“Are you absolutely sure? Maybe a kid in the shorts, like in the painting? Or older, with a mustache, probably in a suit?”

You cast your mind back, “No, I didn’t see you. All I saw was the guy.”

He accepts this.

“All in all- this is not good. I know things are more flexible at the Commission now but Herb’s gotta be pissed about whatever I’m doing.”

He paces again, looking down at the last few pages of his notebook.

“This could be another apocalypse, people.”

“Really,” opines Klaus, “when I just got my hair nice?”

Again, Five sits behind his father’s desk across from Herb, whiskey poured for them both. He arrived within a second after Five used his personal pneumatic pipeline to contact him. 

“I have to tell you Number Five, so far, we’re as clueless as you on this. The switchboard gave us the alert about the temporal anomaly but that’s as much as we know.”

He sips his drink, looking troubled. “Can you give me any insight on why a version of you might be running these ‘experiments’?”

“Wish I could Herb. The equations as far as I can detect them make no sense. I would have told you that I’d never try it...if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

He pushes his notebook across the desk to Herb. He scrutinizes a few pages of calculations, face the picture of confused concern. When he's seen enough, he looks back up at Five. 

“You know we may have to take action on this.”

Five meets Herb’s eyes. It’s not a threat, not aggressive; he simply says it as an uncomfortable fact. 

“Well it’s not me me. It’s different timeline me. I can promise you I don’t intend to start spitting out nonsense woodchipper time portals,"

Five placed his glass down on the desk, leaned back and sighed.

"He’s just likely to give you a lot of trouble.”

Herb just drinks his scotch, not meeting Five's eyes.

You lie in bed together that night.

“I need you to be vigilant,” says his voice, out of the dark, “the other versions of me…part of my power means we can exist almost independently of each other across different timestreams if we do the right math. At least...theoretically. I can’t answer for my motivations under different circumstances.”

“What do you mean? Vigilant?”

He sighs, “It might be a version of me that wouldn’t care if he hurt you.”

You stay silent.

“Maybe from before I met you. Or it could just be a me who’s traveled back. So you need to keep your eyes open.”

“Ok.”

“I need you to watch me closely too. If the other me gets too close, I’m going to develop paradox psychosis. I thought I felt a bit of it today- it’s what made me sure I was nearby. Problem is, the first stage of the psychosis is denial, so I won’t be much help when the time comes."

"Huh?

"You shouldn't really be around your doppelgangers. It's not good for you. There are seven stages you need to be on the look out for." He holds up his hands and counts them off on his fingers. "We have denial, itching, extreme thirst and urination, excessive gas, acute paranoia, uncontrolled perspiration and then homicidal rage."

You laugh nervously, "Sounds like your average Saturday night."

"Very funny." he says, though unamused, "If you see any of the warning signs, we’ll know I’m around. Then we can assess the situation and do what has to be done. I'll need you to keep a close eye on me. I might get...unmanageable but if I'll listen to anyone, I'll listen to you. ”

You lie there silently. Your overtaxed mind races. Homicidal rage? Versions of Five that could hurt you? He rolls over and turns to you, you feel his breath on your cheek.

“I know this is a lot to get your head around. I haven’t myself. But we’ll manage. Whatever it takes.”

Under the sheets, his hand strokes your hip.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

[usagiverse]

I need to know the other team names, and not in a note.

Please, share the team names you have for this guys!

Sure thing, but I'm not entirely creative so these might sound kinda dumb lol (the Rise community is sooo good at naming duos though). Also included some non-canon duos for alternative UV AU's, where Shuji, Mizu, and Yuichi are the same age as the turtles instead (p-p-peepaw miyamoto au!?) Kinda just having fun with these, they may never be on the same page or might not even get along but... i still like it ! (original pairings under cut) - Miyamoto Pairings - Hijack Duo (w/ Donnie) Sunrise Duo (w/ Mikey) Blueberry Duo (w/ Leo) Icee Duo (w/ Raph) Cotton Candy Duo (w/ Shu) Seafoam Duo (w/ Yui) Princess Duo (w/ Mizu) - Shuji Pairings - Psychedelic Duo (w/ Donnie) Grapefruit Duo (w/ Mikey) Neon Duo (w/ Leo) Nebula Duo (w/ Raph) Twilight Duo (w/ Yui) Ultraviolet Duo (w/ Mizu) Cotton Candy Duo (w/ Miya) - Yuichi Pairings - Hyperpop Duo (w/ Donnie) Beach Duo (w/ Mikey) Lagoon Duo (w/ Leo) Mountain Dew-o (w/ Raph) Twilight Duo (w/ Shu) Peacock Duo (w/ Mizu) Seafoam Duo (w/ Miya) - Mizuki Pairings - Galaxy Duo (w/ Donnie) Empathy Duo (w/ Mikey) Horizon Duo (w/ Leo) Toothpaste Duo (w/ Raph) Ultraviolet Duo (w/ Shu) Peacock Duo (w/ Yui) Princess Duo (w/ Miya)

- Original Pairings - Donnie | Mikey - Smarts & Crafts / PB&J Duo Donnie | Leo - Disaster Twins Donnie | Raph - Brains & Brawn Mikey | Raph - Sunset Duo Mikey | Leo - Portal Bros / Baja Blast Raph | Leo - Leader Duo Usagi | Leo - Sword / Katana Duo

[malikselfindulgence]

D'you mind telling me about Marek?I'm super curious about his lore!!

AGHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!

Okay I haven't actually. Thought much about Marek teehee my alter Blaze is the lore guy I'm the . Kisses my favorite characters on the lips girlguy. BUT HERES WHAT IVE GOT SO FAR!!

OK this got rlly long my bad ToT putting under a read-more

Marek isn't from Megapolis [because I'm middle eastern so now she is too <3], he's not actually sure where he's from- all she remembers is arriving to the city as a teenager with something or someone urging her along and taking care of her .

This someone turns out to be a spirit- wolf spirit specifically, from thousands of years back into Marek's ancestry. He doesn't remember much either, only that he was called upon to the mortal realm to find a child, abandoned and crying, and he had to help. [Their ancestry and the spirit's origins are explored later on in s4 I'd saayy??]

^ some silly art Blaze made earlier :3 the design is a W.I.P!

The spirit starts out much more hazy, and is usually only summoned by Marek when he feels threatened- the spirit then takes over Marek's body, causing Marek's scar to glow, and her body to take on a more wolfish form :3

During the LBD arc, LBD tries to possess Marek as a way to get to Mei, but with Marek's body already holding two souls in one vessel, it overwhelms her and her consciousness is locked away, unable to be reached by even the spirit. The spirit fights off LBD's possession, but now he's in complete control of the body while Marek's soul remains imprisoned with LBD.

Uhh I haven't yet figured out how the spirit gains his own body but . It happens Somehow after LBD's defeat. Let's say main character bullshit <3 and he starts living his life outside of Marek- which allows them both to develop without the other! Starts out pretty rough but they get there :3

Also Mei and Marek's ship name is grapefruit :3!! Ik grapefruit isn't purple but shshsh it's ok im keeping Mei's fruit theme going with her duo/ship names. They both lowk start out horrible 4 each other because the way Mei and Marek talk about themselves only further perpetuates their unhealthy expectations of themselves- "if she's viewing herself in this way, and I think she's right about everything and pretty well-adjusted, then this way of thinking is obviously healthy!" type of deal

Blaze yet to decide on the spirit's name + who he's gonna date but . We'll get to that when we do proper ref sheets for them both :3 agahxhxh thank you sm for the ask im sorry this got so long TwT!! I think that's enough 4 now- you can ask any more questions if you'd like!!

[hwan-g]

chapter one ( forget ) ANTHOLOGY.

‘forget everything. open the windows.’ — frank kafka.

pair. hyunjin x reader x felix | warnings. mentions of cheating, angst, heartbreak, mentions of depression, profanity, suggestive behavior, mentions of food and drinking | word count. 10.7k

synopsis. fresh out of your breakup with their best friend, the duo decide it’s time for you to get out of hibernation; so the plan begins. only problem—neither of them drive.

tags. @cb97percent, @ughbehavior, @lix-ables, @hyuneater, @hyun-bun, @j-0ne25, @hellishmoons, @danyxthirstae01, @enluc, @skz317cb97.

June 19th.

Summer shuddered outside your room, trees peeking through the pale curtains.

Wake up, will you? Enough.

You stir in your sleep, face nuzzling the pillow, brain shifting the fog away. And face another day? you groggily think. Maybe tomorrow, maybe when the sun leaves me alone.

No, it must be now— “hey, don’t turn away from me!” Huh?

Your eyes fall open, a familiar figure coming into focus. Distantly, you think you’re cold, so you try to locate the AC unit above your desk, see if it’s still on. It was off. So, a different coldness, then. Or, perhaps, the same one that’s followed you since March. The icy cloud of heartbreak and all its symptoms.

Hwang Hyunjin is standing above your bed, studying the mess of you. Half of you feels apologetic, almost. The other half wants to return to your dream, grapefruit flavored. There, it’s warm. There, there are no lurking shadows, no golf sized hail descending from the sky, no apocalypse swallowing the Earth as you know it.

There, everything just is. As it should be—as you want it to be.

He sighs, and reaches for your arm, sitting you up. You blink at him. He blinks back, raising his eyebrows. Your chest deflates, giving in.

“Alright.”

Hyunjin grins, messenger bag hitting against his hip as he moves towards your closet. “That’s my girl.”

You smile softy, fondly at his back. His hair is back to black, a midnight silky wave framing his pretty features. Fair, lovely—the dictionary bows before him, offering its infinite words. A porcelain doll that came alive as a birthday wish once, or a foreign prince that escaped a children’s fairytale book and has tried to adapt to real life ever since.

Not quite corporeal, not yet. Soon, you think. He’s not ready yet.

He holds up a floral dress for you. A dainty thing, green all over, with thin straps. You grimace, pulling the covers over your legs. Your arms are freezing, the tips of you going numb. This is how it happens—the unfortunate, the terrible.

Your heart. Your stupid heart.

“Jeans, or forget about it,” you threaten.

“I’m doing you a favor here,” he fights back, waving the piece of fabric. “I was kind enough to not mention the state of this place.”

Your eyes squint at him. “Your apartment is covered in paint.” But you knew it was a weak retort, and he’d eventually win.

He was better at this than you. You threw the towel in too fast, grew tired of wit games if they showed to be futile from the start. And you knew, most of all, that Hyunjin was, indeed, only trying to help. Him and Felix filled your inbox with daily worried remarks, most going unanswered, though that never seemed to stop them. The resilient pair, the two of them. Always together, strong in their unity.

Felix had even attempted to bake cookies for you, using his emergency key to come in your house as you remained hermetically locked in your room, your grief contained with you. He’d cleaned a bit, thrown out expired food from your fridge, and made a big bowl of bibimbap, with a note on it.

‘At least eat this, yeah? It’s made with lots and lots and lots of love. Please?’

You did eat it. Two days later, when you noticed it next to the carton of eggs. When your spoon scraped the bottom of the Tupperware, a decision had been made. That night you answered all their messages, reassuring everything would be okay. It had to, eventually. Before you lost your mind, preferably.

A breakup with Bang Chan was tough business, but you’d known all along. This man would be hard to get over—perhaps because you never expected the blow. But you cannot procrastinate the inevitable, no matter how you wish otherwise. Things happen and they stay, they are all you can see, they drown and castrate, sweep you up and down, sideways and all ways, until one day they just—don’t.

Until they seize or subside. So, it would be okay. With time. Always, endless, unmeasured time.

June was a good place to start.

Later, dread showered off, you wore that silly flower dress per request, and sat on the kitchen table eating the sesame bagel Hyunjin had brought you, and was so avidly forcing you to try, when he asked if he could do your hair.

It brought back the memory of him absentmindedly putting your hair in a braid all those years ago, before you run across scorching sand to swim in the vibrant blue of the sea. He’d sat you between his long legs, as Chan threw a frisbee back and forth with Changbin, feet dipped in seafoam.

Now, he does it consciously. Every finger finding its way through your damp locks, pulling it back in the familiar style, away from your, sticky with moisturizer, face. The bagel is nice, perfectly toasted, and the yellow light falling through the kitchen window above the sink doesn’t feel like such a punishment anymore. A dream, this seems, the world has stopped spinning. Hyunjin weaves magic through him, so much so, everything looks a shade brighter, there’s glitter on the ceiling, the flowers bloom on your mini dress.

A moving painting. The power of the artist.

“Felix is stuck in traffic,” he mumbles, tying the hairband on the end of his finished work. “You’d think the taxi driver would go through the streets. Such con men, these people…”

You smile, chewing. “He wouldn’t be, if one of you would just go get your driving license.”

He sighed behind you, patting your head mockingly. “Sweetheart, I am a painter—I can’t possibly be bothered with such a mundane thing, now, can I?”

With an eye roll, you look at the empty paper bag in front of you. “You’re the one complaining…” you trail off, sulkily.

Hyunjin ignores you. “Do you have a ribbon? I think a ribbon would look cute with this dress!” And he’s off, in his own fantastic world of ribbons, and colors, and swirls—patterns, and brush strokes, and ideas.

You wonder what it would be like to live in a world where all is animated, all vivid and quite unreal. Perhaps there, the heaviness in your heart would feel like cotton candy, melting into nothing in your mouth.

Perhaps.

You stare at the duffel bags on the pavement in bewilderment.

When did this happen?

Felix was talking with the driver, ‘It’ll only be a few minutes, thank you for waiting,’ before his face broke into a smile that would put the sun to shame, and rushed to gather you in his arms. Apparently, you were to rewrite the whole planet green, alive with summer, glistening like leaves on a wild field—

Hyunjin smirks down at you, as you look at Felix’s mint colored Converse, wondering how much more of your life went unnoticed by you, how you kept getting coaxed into these peculiar situations unbeknownst to yourself, a stranger in a body you’ve hosted all your life, suddenly forgetting your lines, or how limps moved.

What a strange realization.

“I got the tickets on my phone. The ride is two hours, and then we’ll have to get on a bus,” Felix was excitedly informing Hyunjin of your trip, never once pausing to see your surprised expression.

Hyunjin was nodding along, amused smile tugging on his lips, as he loaded the bags in the trunk of the orange car. When he shut it closed, he turned to your unmoving frame.

“Are you coming?” he asked you. As if you had a choice, when all was packed to go.

Words had left you, but you managed an incredulous “How?” to which he chuckled.

He offered his hand, and you eyed it hesitantly. Felix saw the whole encounter, and his demeanor changed immediately.

“You were supposed to tell her!”

“She’d say no.” Brown eyes pierced you knowingly, hand patient, waiting.

“Well, she’s not saying yes,” the blonde sighed. “We thought you needed a way out. So, we’re taking you away to sea,” he smiled warmly at you.

This is the second part. Lee Felix is made of star powder and pixie dust, absolutely. The garden of him continues to grow over everything, could not be put behind fences, and does not abide by any human rules. Like Hyunjin, he was dreamed up by fairies in a magical forest, where birds sing, and deer can talk. At least, that was the general impression of him. Like a spell, you lay defenseless, agreeing to every word coming out of his mango lips.

Once, for your birthday, he’d given you a friendship bracelet. He was already wearing his, the colorful beads circling around his wrist cutely, the smiley face staring at yours disapprovingly. You think that was when the magic bonded together, when the spell was cast. Yet, taking off the bracelet was out of the question, had never dawned on you.

So, you went. Took Hyunjin’s hand and followed the two of them inside the taxicab. The ride to the train station was filled with Felix’s recommendations of restaurants, and the small history lesson Hyunjin gave the both of you, what he’d heard from his parents of Sokcho, how it has existed B.C, how it started a small fishing village and has come to now be one of the most popular destinations in all of South Korea.

You and Felix listened intently, drinking every word in. When Hyunjin talked, it was water on a stream. Everything became alive, leaned closely. His voice was made of the same magic that existed in your bracelet. Secret, ancient witchcraft, the kind that bewitched the soul, run through your veins acting as your own blood.

Hyunjin was like that—a young God. His actions could only be justified as mystic, coming from an elsewhere, a place that couldn’t possibly endure in the human realm. No one could understand his ways, if they weren’t hooked directly into the heart tree that consists of him. It is why he does not have many friends—

It is the very reason he paints. If Hyunjin did not have an outlet, he’d be a terrible man. Felix knows this best.

The station was chaos. Families on vacation, sleepy children moving sheepishly across the ticket kiosks, holding their parents’ hand; people dressed in formal attire, likely off to business meetings, and thirty story buildings. But the couples—you stopped dead in your tracks, staring at the stolen glances, the intertwining of their fingers, the synchronicity of their steps. So romantic love hadn’t died after all.

You’d thought if yours and Chan’s relationship could flicker out, then no one stood a chance. Or perhaps you’d been fed a lie; you’d played the part that had been given to you a little too well, believed it a little too much. In any case, no Chan standing next to you, holding your hand, carrying your purse on his shoulder. No one at all for you. Not anymore.

Just an excited Lee Felix, followed by photographer extraordinaire Hwang Hyunjin.

Your first friend—first love. Beginning of time, Hwang Hyunjin, and everything that exists in the in between.

The platform for your destination only had a handful of people waiting, the clock reading ten minutes to spare before boarding. By that point, the day had grown unbearably warm, sweat threatening to drip from every pore, sunrays shading everyone a faint flush of red. It was nice, you thought stupidly, it felt very much like being alive, five years old, running around in the backyard of your house growing up, no care for sunburn, or anything, really. Mud on your shorts, wet hair from the water guns that had been an early birthday present the year prior, and popsicle juice leaking down your chin.

Lee Felix swinging his lemonade glass up high, big eyes shining, mischievous expression—poor, much shorter you and your big, dumb emotions spilling out of you even then, even in play, even in pretend. On the first sight of tears, the boy caved, terrified of your sobs, scared he’d get in trouble. He’d never been good at intimidating, anyway, never wanted you to think he was being for real.

What had been real—Hyunjin grabbing the plastic gun, spraying away at the strange boy that had entered their life suddenly, having moved from a place called Australia, so far from where you were. The glass spilling, the boy soaked, you laughing at the two of them, silly silly boys and their silly boy games, tears forgotten, summer raging on and on and on, forever in your memory—

Boys. Your entire life had consisted of them, of all that makes them, all that involves them. You’d been swept away, grown into the shape they’d made of you, waited for their instructions and words that could raise or break you, always them them them, and so little of you, yet if you were to deconstruct everything that was until now, you’d be left with absolutely nothing if they hadn’t been there. If the inner workings of you were to be altered.

“AC would be great right about now,” Felix commented miserably, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

“Dare I mention it again, in fear of being dragged—the DMV is like— thirty minutes away from your place.”

Hyunjin groans, slamming the palm of his own hand against his face. “Not this again.”

“It stands true, you are both adults—” “I don’t see you having a car, love,” Felix interjected, staring pointedly at you.

You scowled, pursing your lips. “I don’t possess the kind of wealth you two have.”

“So, if we bought you a car, would you drive us around then?” the black-haired man turned to look at you, eyes suggestive and smiling.

“No.”

Another protesting exclaim, this time mirrored.

“Oh, thank God!” The train arrived, grand and multi travelled, taking its time to come to a stop, the sudden breeze blowing the three of you back.

“Let’s go,” Felix guided you through the doors, all the way to your seats, Hyunjin trailing behind, a feather of a touch on your shoulder.

Once the conductor checked your tickets, you deflated in the tight space, checking the carry-on underneath you with the heel of your shoe. Hyunjin grinned at you, eyes turning into crescent moons, holding entire planets within them.

“Do you need to look so breathtaking all the time?” you voice your thoughts to him, almost annoyed.

He laughed a full sound, long, slender fingers hiding his mouth, rings adorning them, heavy with meaning. Felix’s identical ones glint under the summery brightness coming from the wide window next to you.

“Not something I can exactly help, sweetheart.”

You see it, then, the meeting of hands between them, the long slender fingers and the shorter chubbier ones, the crescent moons, and the sunbeam smiles. It’s absentminded, it’s nearly muscle memory for them, impossible to miss, like a thought in the back of your head that had once been on the tip of your tongue—a soulmate connection.

The silly boys had grown up to be dreamers, admirers of art, and art themselves under a certain light, in the right angle, at the proper place, and then, before you could’ve even blinked—lovers.

Sometimes. When the darkness is unbearable, when the sky is devoid of its stars. In those spaces of time, they meet halfway, souls bared, hearts beating as one. Your beautiful boys, the forest fairy tale. Who could’ve known, and yet it was so very evident. Still, they never once separated you from their magic, never alienated you from your place in the center, always the center, vital for their existence as much as they were for yours.

You must’ve drifted off after a while, staring at the action of surrender, wondering— if Bang Chan had ever loved you even half as much as you’d loved him, his hand wouldn’t have felt so heavy on yours, weighing, tugging. A cruise anchor on top of a house roof.

Or, perhaps, was it a different love? A love between a man and a woman; Atlas, and the World? Not the push and push back, the warrior and his armor, but the war and Helen of Troy.

Hyunjin’s sketchbook is propped on top of his knees, legs pulled up, pencil dancing on top of rough paper.

Felix was passed out next to him, head resting on the artist’s shoulder, belonging, impetuous. You blinked, and rubbed at your eyes, grabbing Hyunjin’s water bottle and gulping a sip of it down.

A baby was crying in the background, the moving of the train barely a whisper to you now.

“How long was I out?” you ask quietly, not wanting to disrupt the magic.

“An hour and a half,” he replies without lifting his gaze.

Fields stretched out of the window now, acres of them, all wild with color, greengreengreen, endless, shouting. You didn’t bother Hyunjin for the rest of the time on the train, letting him stew in his ideas, and faraway places, his own greens, and blues, suns and universes, the pale haired boy with him, joined, clasping.

When you reached Gangneung, it was already past noon, a few clouds making their way over the light, blue turning pastel. Hyunjin put away his drawing materials, gently shaking Felix, wiping sleep from his face, a secret passing between them in hushed voices.

Felix nodded, and looked at you, the softest smile painting his pink lips. His hair looked fluffy—you wanted to reach out and pass your fingers through it.

“To the bus we go, yeah love?”

Sleep still felt like a good idea, until you sat stranded at the bus station, waiting. And waiting.

And waiting.

“You think we’re at the right place?” you ask an amused Hyunjin, looking around at the absence of people.

“I think we are, angel,” he confirms, that annoying smirk of his growing bigger.

You sigh. “Well, then, where is this cursed bus?”

Felix chuckles next to you, crossing his arms over his lean chest. “Should I ask my magic map?”

“Perhaps. Something of yours is bound to answer one of these days.”

Hyunjin barks, laughter bubbling from the pit of his stomach, as he doubles over with it, a coughing fit following soon after. You watch in confused amazement as he recovers, pushing onyx hair out of his face, eyes animated.

“Felix, our appointed Tinker Bell! Should I shake you a little, see if I can wish a private jet?”

You snort at that, leaning back against the plexiglass. “Now you’re thinking.”

“Neither of you are funny.”

“You’re right—we’re hilarious.” You high-five with your partner in crime.

The bus does come eventually, and you board it at once, becoming random passengers in the humdrum of it all, clutching to your destination as tight as you can, delirious with purpose. You sit next to Hyunjin, while Felix becomes friendly with an old woman, offering her a dashing smile and asking if the sit adjoining her was empty.

Of course, it was. For him.

Hyunjin nudges you, chortling, hands clapping soundlessly, like a seal on mute. You smile, throwing a wink toward Felix’s way, before sitting down, and nuzzling into your friend.

“What a heartthrob.”

“Can I show you something, sweetheart?” He took his sketchbook out of the messenger bag between his legs, opening it to a coal full page.

“Hyunjin.” You looked up at him, mouth hanging. His brows rose at your tone, taking in your reaction.

It was Felix. But it was Felix reimagined as Icarus, free falling into a darkly sketched sea, waves cut sharply, menacing, the wings expanding, beautiful but melting, reduced down to candle wax facing against the scorching sun. The face was disappointed, furious in its failing, but somehow peaceful in the fall, like the fate of him and his father’s wings were dawning on him all at the same time.

It somehow managed to catch the innocence of the action, the naivety. The pride of an unsuspecting boy, and his death because of it. The shading of the features, though, the curve of the shoulders—there was adoration laced in this drawing. A knowing that run deep, deeper than you understood, and deeper still. Why would Hyunjin draw this? Was he trying to tell you something?

A boy lost, blinded by ambition. The inevitable falling. It couldn’t be a coincidence…

“Is everything okay, Hyun?” you ask, hand wrapping around his forearm, trying to meet his gaze.

He gave a small, cryptic smile, but said nothing, closing the book, and his eyes with it. Your mind went over the image of the sketch in your head, and then revisited the moment of their hands on the train. Hyunjin had been busy with his exhibition, and Felix was—well, Felix was Felix, doing whatever he pleased, his bank account loaded with zero’s. He travelled, saw the world, met people, and then met some more, always excited, always searching, curious, energetic.

That’s who he was, who he’s always been. And then a terrifying thought struck.

What if Icarus wasn’t really the pale, the bright, but instead the midnight black, the timid? The Felix that couldn’t be held back, and the Hyunjin that is paying for it.

A sinking, a sacrifice.

You stayed like that, chilled, wrapped around the fusing candle, thoughts of quicksand, and hungry Mediterranean waves enveloping you down under.

By the time you reached Sokcho and got in the cab to the Airbnb you’d be staying at, you were exhausted. The sun beating down on you in combination with all the transportation changes had you feeling nauseous, and craving sleep. In an actual bed.

“We have to try the seafood here. There’s a place by the sea.”

Felix kicked the door open, bags in each hand, checking the place out. White, spacious, smelling of bleach and something sweet, fruity. A dining table, adjacent to a small kitchen, and a living room with a decent sized TV. A staircase led to the bedrooms, while a full wall was replaced by a glass, patio door, leading outside to the small yard with the grill and chairs you passed coming inside.

It was beautiful, felt just like summer vacation. You’d only stay for one night, but as was the true twin style, the accommodations were more than satisfactory. Perhaps a bit extra if you might add.

“Don’t look at me, it was Hyunjin’s idea. He’s stayed here before, apparently.”

Hyunjin took the messenger bag he’d been carrying all day off, placing it on the long table, and rounded his arms around your shoulders, locking you into a giant back hug. You stayed like that for a while, his chin resting on the top of your head, looking out into the scenery.

You could see the beach from where you were. It looked to be walkable distance, and Felix had been nonstop talking about that damn clam soup since before you even left, so you gathered whatever energy you had, and started for the bathroom to freshen up.

Until Hyunjin shot a hand out to stop you. You looked at it, looked at him.

“Come here, will you?” This was your first love, speaking to you.

You went, and he took you in his arms again, this time his head on your shoulder, one hand rubbing circles on your back, the other holding your wrist down. Hyunjin had this ability—he could calm you down with one touch. One look. One word. In no way did you have what he had with Felix, but in your own way, you were soulmates. No one got you like he did, and vice versa.

Nothing more, nothing less. Except at times like these, when lines get blurred, when both of you are wallowing in sadness. You’d been fooled this morning, thinking all was alright with him. Seeing him now, next to the blue of the sea, he looked eternally sorrowful.

“What’s wrong with you, Hyun?” you whisper to him, wanting—needing this private time with him.

He knuckled his eye, sighing deeply. “Nothing. Everything.” And you understood. You understood.

“These rooms are huge!” Felix shouted from upstairs. You smiled without meaning to.

Hyunjin did too, but his looked different. It was that special smile reserved only for Lee Felix. “I love him, you know? But he keeps leaving. I will not keep him down.”

“Love isn’t a cage, Hyunjin.”

He leans back to stare at your face. His eyes are tired, face drained. Mask fallen. “You’re wrong, sweetheart. It is the worst kind of cage. I have the key in my hand, and I keep doing this to myself.”

You kiss him, then. A simple kiss, no meaning behind it. It was meant as a comfort, as a ‘I love you, you’re not alone in this.’ He kissed back, and it felt like you were seventeen again, falling in love with him, not knowing what it meant, what it would be.

“Come on.”

You went. You always went.

Cheongchosu Mulheo was a small restaurant, overlooking water. A little bit after lunch time, it remained crammed with people sitting in big groups around metal tables, laughing over Coke and grilled squid. The atmosphere was lively, the outside warm but not unendurable anymore, and your stomach was absolutely growling its way out of your body.

Hyunjin ordered a platter of raw fish, and noodles, enough for three people, and you all decided to drink later, somewhere more quiet, closer to the sea. Drinking at night was healing, an entirely different experience.

“Alright,” Felix turned to you after all the food arrived. His soup had vanished in minutes, and his smile was restored back to the blinding spitting image of the sun. It hurt to look at him straight.

“What would you like to do? It’s pretty early still,” his deep voice couldn’t contain the excitement, the pure delight that travelling, exploring brought him.

“We should check out the market,” Hyunjin suggested, seeing your lost expression. “Perhaps the Port?”

“Sounds great,” you reply, yet have no idea what any of these places are.

You never travel. You could count the trips you’ve taken in one hand—Seoul was a set ship, your job taking most of your time. Bang Chan hoarding the rest.

But no more of that now. No more of him. No more.

Felix leans over the table and waves his hand over your head. You look up at him. He furrows his eyebrows at you, lips in a thin smile.

“Keep the clouds away, love, no time for that.”

Hyunjin’s hand slips into yours underneath the table. You nod between the two of them, repeating the words out loud:

“No time for that.”

The market was not as crowded, many shops already closed for the day, mainly the fish stands, and some tiny restaurants. You passed a few places selling teokbokki and sliced fruit in bowls, colorful banners hanging all around you, big letters in italics and exclamation marks inviting you left and right. Hyunjin had totally bought into everything, observing, and engaging in conversation with the people.

For no reason at all, you now had a bag of potatoes, and green onions from a friendly grandma that insisted her items were of the best quality and the lowest price. There were other things too—hair accessories, and bracelets, toys, and clothes. Felix picked up a cute claw clip in blue, and pulled Hyunjin’s hair back with it, stepping back to see how it looked on him. Hyunjin modeled for it. The selling couple laughed at the silly poses and gave it to you for free. After thanking them, the three of you got a serving of squid sausage that seemed especially appetizing, after Felix exclaimed rather dramatically that he’s never tried it before.

“(Y/N) how about this dress?!” A maxi floral dress in dark blue, with a peter pan collar, three times your size.

You giggled, but put it on your body, extending your leg, looking at the boys through your eyelashes.

“Exquisite, sweetheart,” Hyunjin commented lovingly, hands still busy with the claw clip.

“Wear it for tonight! Here, I’ll wear this!” Felix snatched a leather vest from the pile of clothes, passing it through his arms. “How about it?”

You and Hyunjin nodded, slowly, marveling at the piece of fabric swallowing your friend whole. “It’s…something, for sure.”

Felix laughed, not a care in the world. “I’m buying it.”

And that was how you three left that local market, each carrying something new, ridiculous in the way happiness feels after a long episode of numb, numb, numb. A season passed amongst dull, grey buildings and customer service, sinking in self-pity, and wishing something, anything, would change, take this weight off your heart, and kickstart it, give you a small push—or a whole kick to the gut—anything if it got you moving, and out of that room.

The kick ended up being Hwang Hyunjin throwing the covers off and grabbing your hand, but it felt all the same at the end. As long as the veil lifted, the clouds dispersed.

It was a sixteen-minute walk from where you were to the Domyeong Port, and you took your time, enjoying the scenery, eating the spicy snack you’d bought with toothpicks. The sound of the waves crashing on shore, a slight breeze blowing your hair away from your face, horns of Vespa’s and pickup trucks alarming you every so often—it was getting hard to differentiate between dream and reality, the endless blue and smell of salt in the air, and the other side, the town, the reminder of people around you, their yelling and jostling. The time on your phone said a bit after six in the afternoon, and yet you swore time did not exist, was not a concept in your own little made-up world, with the boys made of magic, and your friendship bracelets.

Was the wind blowing through you or around you? Were the people all the same, backdrop to your invisible soap bubble with the rainbow edges, held together by spells and soulmate rings or were they talking to each other, individuals with their own voice and life, decisions and choices taking them from one place to the next?

Were you to finally take ahold of the wheel of your story, accept it as it is, and forget about anything that doesn’t turn the pages forward, anything that holds you back? Is it really that simple?

Looking out at sea, watching the waves—it is. It is.

Hyunjin is busy taking pictures with his gigantic, professional camera, while Felix ties his shoelaces, and you realize you’ve reached the Port. The big rocks running across the path to the fishing boats that are floating side by side, a barely visible skerry in the stretch of boundless blue that Felix points out to you.

You’re overtaken with nostalgia, memories of summer vacations when you were a child flashing through your mind, photographs in sepia, the same boats floating, the same shade of blue, the salt in your face, the wind transporting—you feel like crying. You feel like laughing. You feel like running to the lighthouse all the way on the end of the dock.

You take off, the boys yelling after you.

“Be careful, will you?” Hyunjin shouts, a smile evident in his tone.

“Why are we running?!” Felix laughing, angels rejoicing, clouds parting, skies clear.

“Why not?” you answer, your voice suspended in the air, cutting through the silence of the port.

The Lighthouse is monumental, you feel microscopic next to it, but you don’t let it faze you, instead you climb the stairs up to it, hoping for a door, hoping you can see the beacon from up close, see how far it reaches, let the luminescence of it wash over you, wrap around you and carry you over the waves, over the rock islet, past the horizon, further and further, oceans away, until you are transformed, until you too are nothing but light, helping, guiding the way.

It won’t happen, of course, not how you want, the sun is still high up in the sky, the moon barely showing its head, and the Lighthouse does not accept visitors on a Sunday, a sign with black capital letters tells you.

You’re panting by that point, breathing labored, and you double over, hands on your knees, inhaling deeply, shamelessly. The boys reach the top of the stairs a few minutes later, collapsing on the last step, lying their heads on the dirt path.

“I am never running again,” Hyunjin states, fingers clenching his heart.

“You can’t deny—it felt good—right?” More heavy breathing.

“Hyunjin—take a picture. This is beautiful!” Felix steals the camera, snapping a picture as he’s sprawled over the stairs, forehead shiny with sweat, pearly white teeth in display.

The black-haired man has his eyes closed, focusing on the sounds surrounding you.

“Do you hear it?”

“What?”

“Siberian stonechats. Listen.”

The chirps invaded your ears with a sharpness unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. It was nowhere, and then it was everywhere, it was all around you, there were so many birds, all up in trees, flying over bushes, and then more, different kinds, over the coastline, so very alive, demanding to be heard.

“How do you know their name?” Felix asks, amazed by the clear sound.

“My dad liked birdwatching.”

The incantation breaks. Liked—past tense for a person who’s passed, who’s not here anymore. Someone who’s elsewhere, beyond. You look at the hair sprawled, the messenger bag on his hip, the arm over his eyes, and you think it hasn’t been long for him either. And yet here he is, and yet he moved on before the hole turned poisonous, before it swallowed him down under, before it trapped him in a room and locked the door.

Something protruding from the pier caught your eye. It looked like a pavilion, along the coastline, red with a traditional looking rooftop. Felix noticed it as soon as you did.

“We should go,” he told you, and you agreed.

“Help me pick the body up.”

With his help, you brough Hyunjin back on his feet, dusting him off. Wasting no time, he immediately caught both of you in headlocks, pulling you against him. Felix surrendered, but you fought back, tickling his sides as the three of you descended the stairs, making your way to the pier.

“Let’s watch the sunset there.”

“Deal.”

Yeonggeumjeong was the name of it, Hyunjin informed you. He’d gone there once, two years ago, to find inspiration for his paintings. When he went back to Seoul, he was busy for a whole month. Then, finally, around Christmas time, he had his first exhibition.

That’s where you’d seen it before. The bridge to get to the pavilion was beautiful, coming to a curve in the middle, a few couples scattered, leaning over the railings. The couples again. You didn’t know why it was so triggering to you, and this time you waved your own hands over the clouds. You were on a mission here, a mission that had been orchestrated, and you wouldn’t let your efforts, your friend’s efforts, be dissipated by the mere sight of love.

You would stop letting love scare you to a corner. You would open the windows, allow it to flow from everywhere, welcome it inside for tea, a familiar thing that had once been essential for you, for your existence. No more of this frightening, of this hesitancy to acknowledge, to face.

What was the truth—Chan hadn’t contacted you in months. Chan had ended it, because there were three people, not two. Three, so more than a couple, which meant no space. Someone had to go, and even though you weren’t the one doing the leaving, weren’t the one severing ties, doing the hard part, staying felt to you a worse punishment than death.

Staying in love. A graveyard made entirely by being the one left behind. Perhaps that was the fear itself.

Hyunjin accompanied the waving, long fingers picking the stubborn clouds one by one and flicking them off, far away from you. He smiled down at you, moons for orbs, pressing a kiss on your forehead after the hourly ceremony was over, and caught both yours and Felix’s hands, walking you over to the edge of the pavilion.

The beach stretched for miles, sand wider than a highway, people waiting to bear witness to the sunset, feel a little closer to God through the marvel of nature, and all its abilities to appear otherworldly, separate from humans.

“We should rent a car,” Felix spoke, leaning against the railing. “Teach us how to drive, love.”

You eyed him. “Where? I don’t feel like going to jail today.”

“Here,” his hand gestured at the beach. “I trust my teacher.”

The sky was a thousand colors, all blending into each other, and from the corner of your eye you caught Hyunjin taking a seat at the bench in the middle of the decorative building, legs crossed, sketchbook open on top, pencils already in motion. You let him be, figuring now is the time of the painter, the magic crenscendoing to its peak, God collaborating.

You’d take one picture, just one. To remember everything as it was right at that moment; Felix in the background, the couple, always the couple, photobombing on the far left, and you— cloudless, in the center, weightless against the wind, at peace with the unknown at least for that one singular second in time.

Then and then gone. Always.

When it finally happened—the oranges and lilacs replaced by dark hues of blue, moon white in its phantom form, Hyunjin awakening, lifting the blanket of mystical inspiration—there were no words to describe the aloofness in your chest. You didn’t feel quite corporeal, taken away by the actions of the day. Your body was tired, but your mind worked overtime, refusing to let go, to give up, and in its struggle, exhausting you beyond reason. You almost collapsed on the stoned bridge, Felix holding you up by the arm.

“Are you okay?” Voice full of worry.

“Yeah. Yes.”

“We should head back,” Hyunjin’s eyes pierced through you. “Rest for a bit.”

“I’ll call a cab.”

With Felix on the phone, walking ahead, your knees gave way, hands finding your face. Hyunjin didn’t seem surprised, instead squatting in front of you, waiting meekly, guiding people around you with a kind smile. He’s used to this, knows you better than himself sometimes.

“No time for this, yeah?”

You exhale shakily, hiding still. “I know.”

“You’re overwhelmed,” a statement, tone kept calm, steady.

“I need a drink,” you huff out a laugh, peeking through your fingers. You see his lips, the curve of them.

“Yeah,” the word drawls, his head nods. “Sweetheart, I love you, alright?” You feel his fingers around your wrist, there as a comfort, not to pull, not to reveal. “This isn’t you, and you know this. Fight it.”

“I’m tired, Hyunjin.” Finally, the eyes meet. And he understands, he sees it in himself as well. “Somedays I can’t even physically—move. I can’t fucking move.”

His fingers tighten, his handsome features softening. “Because he still matters.” You nod, cheeks wet, green ribbon swaying with the breeze. “He always will. But, angel, let me tell you this. If you do not move—you will die. I can’t let that happen. Not to you.”

It seems Hwang Hyunjin will always be pulling you to your feet, always shun the rain away. He’s better at grief than you. Better at a lot of things. Concealing, especially, but you wouldn’t dare be the first to bring it up. You let yourself cling to him, wishing it will be the last time. If you could just do it this one time, and then you’ll figure out a way to be stronger, move on from this.

The drive was a full twenty minutes back to the house, and with dusk officially covering everything with its thick layer of half-darkness, there was no reason to pretend anymore. While the two boys took turns showering, you slept, tears continuing to fall out of you, dress sticking to your body. Felix stared at your figure curled up on the couch, and threw a blanket over you, telling Hyunjin not to wake you until after they’d got ready.

“Have you talked to him at all?”

“A week ago,” the taller one replied indifferently, slipping into baggy jeans. “He’d gone to Australia.”

“He came back yesterday,” Felix informed him. “He called me because he visited my parents.”

Hyunjin nods, jaw clenching. “Good for him.”

Felix stopped him mid movement, forcing him to look into his eyes. “I know you’re angry. She didn’t deserve any of it, and he still hasn’t apologized. I know.”

Hyunjin shrinks, can’t be mad at the pale haired boy with the freckles to save his life. He kisses him, fast and rough. “I’m sorry, this has nothing to do with you.”

Felix wears the oversized leather vest, smiles at the memory from earlier today. “You still love her. I get it, Jin.”

Hyunjin freezes, hadn’t thought it was obvious to anyone but himself. He’d tried really hard to make it come across as platonic—you were his oldest friend, after all. But you were more than that, and you’d always be. The protectiveness he felt over you never seemed to go away, so eventually he gave up on resisting it. But it didn’t mean anything; he loved you, yes, with all of his heart, but he wasn’t in love with you. Felix owned him by soul. It was fucked, but it worked for him, and that’s all that mattered.

“I just never thought Bang Chan would go back on his word. He didn’t strike me the type.”

They both stopped talking about it as soon as they heard you move up the stairs. But in Hyunjin’s mind, it wasn’t over. It wouldn’t be over until that fucker was on his knees, begging for you to take him back.

God knows you won’t live without him.

Renting a car had been easy. Felix paid to have it for the entire rest of the night, and you’d gone to pick it up with the employee. You couldn’t quite believe it until you saw it—an Audi convertible, probably the nicest car in the parking lot. Tinker Bell was fucking crazy for this.

In any case, you wouldn’t complain. It felt nice to know you wouldn’t have to wait for taxi cabs anymore. You just hoped the boys would take it easy, something easier said than done. You pulled in front of the rental place, honking at the both of them standing right outside, staring at their phones.

“Get in, lovebirds.”

You’d forget. For tonight, you’d live.

Felix hopped in, while Hyunjin at least had the decency to open the door. With him in the passenger seat, you felt reassured. Everything would be okay. Putting the car in drive, you repeated that, over and over, the night air feeling good against your face. Streetlights glinting, you sped through the roads, going for the beach.

Hyunjin put a slow song on, a jazzy guitar playing as the soundtrack to this dreamlike vacation to Sokcho. You had to pinch yourself at a red light, just to feel real again. Felix was singing along to the lyrics, while the black-haired boy secured his locks up and away from his face with the blue clip from the market.

“Who wants to try first?” You asked once you pulled to the docks, slowing down for the rest of the way to the sandy ground.

“I think you know the answer to that,” Hyunjin tilted his head towards the beam of sunshine in the back.

Felix all but squealed. “Aw, me, really? You didn’t have to—but okay!”

You shake your head, laughing at the way he climbs to the front seat as you move to the back. “Alright, it’s fairly easy. This is an automatic, so you only have to worry about driving and reversing. Parking is the P all the way to the top, yup, that’s the one. Gently press on the brake, while you put the car back to D. Yes, and then just very lightly press on the gas—FELIX!”

You were gone. You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him, that boy run on a sugar rush at all times. You tried to guide him, tell him to slow down, but he was too busy having the time of his life, drifting, and doing donuts in the flat sand, tornadoes of dust swirling all around you. Hyunjin held on for dear life but was laughing the hardest out of the three of you.

“Fucking hell, Lix, you’re a natural!”

“I fucking told you!”

You drove all the way to the Lighthouse and back, the landmark stealing your breath at night, the light you’d wished to become part of now shining bright under the myriad of stars, winking down at you.

You let go, then, head falling back, as you held onto your seat belt; tiny you in the universe, in a car with two boys you absolutely adored, possibly about to die—but it all felt like blue fire. It couldn’t possibly burn you—injure you, maybe, but you felt invisible, then. Untouchable. The sound of your screams made your heart swell in ways it hasn’t for the longest time.

You welcomed it. You let go. As simple as that.

“Let’s go drink!” Felix suggested, coming to a sudden stop. You almost hit your head on the back of his seat, but even then, you were too drunk on adrenaline to even register the danger of it all.

“Love of my fucking life, Lee Felix,” Hyunjin declared, bringing the freckled boy in for a kiss.

The smile on your face stretched so wide your cheeks hurt for the entire ride to the restaurant. Being back on the wheel brought you back down to Earth, your sanity soothed. It was only a five-minute ride, the place being on the other end of the beach, the only restaurant directly next to the sea. Tables placed on top of the sand, with an orange tent to cut the course of the wind, you were glad Hyunjin had suggested it.

“Finally, my clam soup,” Felix was jittery from the car ride still, his knee bouncing against the plastic table, shaking the utensils that had been laid out for you.

“Soju or meokgolli?” Hyunjin asked you two, smiling politely at the old lady that came for your order.

“Soju with beer,” you suggest, and his eyes lit up.

“You’re talking my language, sweetheart,” he slid his arm across the table, to you. You took his hand, playing with the ring on his index. “Two bottles please, and we’d also like…”

Waiting for everything, you watched as Felix documented everything; the dark sea, the tent, zooming in to catch the name of the small restaurant. And then again, when the drinks and appetizers came, he took pictures of those too, turning the phone around to snap a selfie of the three of you. You waved your chopsticks to it, in the middle of chewing. Hyunjin made a peace sign, his smile that of a sleepy cat.

“Oh my God,” you pointed at the sweet potato. “Try this!”

You hadn’t realized how much you were starving. You didn’t even touch your drinks, too focused on wiping the plates clean. When the main dishes came—buckwheat noodles with squid, the much-awaited clam soup, and Red Snow crab— you wasted no time to devour it all, the sound of waves crushing on shore accompanying your every bite.

 “This night calls for a toast, don’t you think?” Hyunjin raised his glass. “To us, being together in this very moment.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Felix approved. “To us!”

“To us,” you joined in, smiling affectionately at them.

The cicadas felt like part of you, their noise incessant, the night warm. You’d easily went through the two bottles, ordering more, Hyunjin teaching you how to shake soju, and mix it in the beer. It was funny—he wasn’t usually the drinking type, his limit preventing him from getting drunk. And yet it felt like tonight would be an exception because tonight wasn’t real—you refused to believe, even after everything you’ve done to ensure you’re not hallucinating. After all, you couldn’t possibly have nice things like this—you didn’t feel deserving enough.

Alcohol made you emotional. Perhaps you should’ve thought twice about downing so much of it so quick. But with these people, two of your childhood friends—you felt the most comfortable you’ve felt since the breakup. You can’t even remember the reason you kept them at a distance for so long. Sadness should be shared, to lessen the burden.

“…so, I told Seungmin he shouldn’t move in with him if he doesn’t like cats this much,” Hyunjin was telling the story of doomed roommates. Felix was snorting beer through his nostrils. “But you know him and his ‘It will all work out,’ so I dropped it because he’s stubborn as fuck, but now apparently, he has a cat allergy! My guy.”

“No!” your mouth falls open. “Shouldn’t he move out then?”

Felix is slamming his hand on the table, wheezing. “That’s such a Kim Seungmin predicament.”

Hyunjin widens his eyes in emphasis and crosses his legs. “Right?! But no, he says the rent is too ideal to give up on the apartment. Plus, having a roommate is convenient.”

“Oh, well then. Serves him right. I remember when I was roommates with Chan. He kept everything so neat and tidy, I was actually so scared of making a mess.”

And then the realization of what he said. Of whom he mentioned. Felix’s mouth snapping shut, gaze apologetic, Hyunjin scowling at him. Your smile froze but did not disappear. You wanted to tell him it was okay, this much was okay, but you’d be lying straight to his face.

Lying to someone you love—it didn’t feel right. Not to you. To other people it came as easy as breathing. You caught the petty, bitter turn your thoughts were taking, and finished your drink at once, forking some squid.

“It’s been three months,” you comment, but it sounds wrong, and they both catch the dejected tone, so you curl into yourself, and then you’re biting your lip.

Before you know it, the tears come again.

“Is he even okay? I haven’t—he hasn’t called me once. I was his friend, too.”

Felix fills up your glass, and Hyunjin hands you napkins, getting up to come sit next to you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You haven’t cried in front of them about this once, and yet today you can’t stop doing it. Was this why you barely met with them in the months following the Heartbreak? Because you felt embarrassed?

“He’s fine,” the blonde-haired boy assures you. “But fuck him, love. You’re not.”

Everything looked a blur through your wet eyes. You wiped them in hopes they’d stop, but they just—kept—coming. You didn’t want any pity, you fucking hated feeling sorry for yourself, and yet how else were you supposed to feel? If it wasn’t for that, you’d feel nothing. Somehow that’s even more horrifying than sympathy.

“Drink, will you? I said fuck him. He messes with you; he messes with all of us. She wasn’t even fucking worth it—they never even got together.”

“I thought we’d never break up. I’ve known him for so long…he was all I’d known. Felix, how can you do this to someone and not even care?”

“He does care,” Hyunjin speaks this time. “I swear to you, he does. But caring is not enough, angel. Not always.”

You drink to that. You stay like that for a while, quiet, each with your own thoughts, observing the invisible waves, trying to make them out through the shadowiness, until Felix breaks the silence, suggests a game.

“How about twenty questions? Adult edition?” He wiggles his eyebrows, a rainbow after a nasty thunderstorm.

You crack a smile, and Hyunjin exhales deeply in his seat, thinking there’s still hope for you tonight.

“Adult as in sexual experiences or adult as in bottomless fucking pit of despair?” he questions.

“Both. I need therapy.”

“Me, too, baby.”

“Me three,” you reply as well. You all look at each other—and laugh.

It starts drizzling.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin rubs his face raw, stretching his long arms upwards. “We’re too young to be this fucked up.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” you finish another drink, dabbing the napkin in your hand on the edges of your eyes. “I’ll go first. Felix—what’s your favorite memory with us?”

Felix ponders over it for a short minute. “Graduation day. The party Changbin threw for us,” he looks at Hyunjin. The older boy nods, remembering. “You guys were still together, and I remember officiating your fake wedding in the backyard, drunk out of my mind.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hyunjin smiles. “Remember the ring pop?” he asks you.

“I do. I kept the wrapper.”

“If you can’t beat them, join then,” the freckled boy mused, twirling the contents of his glass.

“He was so in love with you,” you tell your fake husband. “The hoodie you’d left at my house after the senior field trip? He wore it every time he came over. It smelled nothing like you by that point, but—you still have it, don’t you?”

Felix nods, a blush creeping up his neck. “I love you for never freaking out on me about it.”

You giggle, feeling loose. “Why would I? You guys are made for each other.”

Hyunjin takes a straight shot of soju at that, wiping his mouth after. His face is somber, eyes dark. You change the subject, knowing the reason for his demeanor.

“My turn,” Felix grins devilishly. “Jin—have you ever painted (Y/N) naked?”

You choke on sweet potato, and Hyunjin hits your back, endeared by the question.

“Huh…have I?” he pretends to think, though you already know the answer. “Was it for your birthday? Should I continue?” he turns to his other half.

“Be my guest. I did ask.”

“Can I tell, sweetheart? We’re all mature here, aren’t we?” his hand is on your thigh, and it reminds you of the times before.

“Of course. It’s only Felix.”

“I fucked you on top of the dryer and filled your hair with flowers from the bouquet I got you. Then you sat naked for me for two hours until I was done with the outline of your body and let me fuck you again after I was finished.”

“Fuck me,” Felix rasped, his voice considerably deeper, imagining the scene.

You blushed. “It sounds way more brass than it really was.”

“No, it doesn’t. I say this in the most respectful way—no girl will ever do it for me like you did.”

You squirm in your seat. “That was years ago, Hyunjin,” you try to reason.

He nods, seeing your point, and fixes himself another glass of beer. “And yet I’m sitting next to you, even when the boy I love is right here.”

Felix says nothing but drinks a lot. You can’t tell if this excites him or is making him jealous.

“Hyunjin.”

“(Y/N).”

“Stop it,” you demand, your defenses weak. “You’re being mean.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, swallowing the cold alcohol. “Mean? He knows.”

“It’s true.” You turn to the blonde’s indecipherable tone. “He’d never hurt me like that.”

You sit back in your chair, sensing an entirely different game has started now. “We’re going to need more alcohol for this.”

Hyunjin smirks at you and calls for the lady.

“Let me ask you, sweetheart—does Bang Chan fuck better than I do?”

“What are you playing at?”

“It’s a simple question.” His eyes are burning holes through you.

This could set you off—take you places you haven’t even dared go to in months. The way Chris fucked…sometimes it was fucking, but most of the time…most of the time you made love. You’re sure Hyunjin knows the difference, but since he’s never done that with you, since the love has never run as deep, has never taken such an ugly turn, he knows nothing of what he speaks. Chan touched your very soul every time he was inside of you, just thinking about it could destroy everything you’ve build against him, to keep him out, to keep you sane—

“You’re not pitting yourself against him. Next question.”

“He’s no competition for me, I’m not fighting for your heart, angel—but neither is he, yeah?”

That shouldn’t have hurt. But it fucking did.

“Jin,” Felix warned.

“No, she needs this,” he snapped at him. “Tell me.”

“You’re different,” you give in, tears brimming. “Would you say me and Felix are the same? We’re not.”

“What’s the difference?” he asks you, curious. Already knowing.

“Besides the obvious?” Felix mutters to himself.

“He’s of your soul, as Chan is of mine,” you admit to yourself.

Hyunjin seems content with your answer. “And yet you doubt his return? You think he’ll never come back.”

“He doesn’t know,” you say stubbornly. “Why would he leave otherwise?”

“Oh,” Felix inhales sharply. You look at him. “Love…have you ever thought you might terrify him?”

Hyunjin points his finger at the blonde. “You think a love like ours is a walk in the park, sweetheart? Sometimes I feel like splitting myself open.”

“Like shooting myself in the leg,” Felix continues.

“But we’ve known each other since before we knew what a boner was,” the boy sitting next to you explains. “Chan barely just found you…in the grand scheme of time, two years is nothing at all.”

It felt like an excuse. And yet you knew these boys were not on his side—they weren’t on anyone’s side, they just said things as they were. And this might just be the truth you needed all along. But for the empty space he’s left, you need to move on for the very sake of your heart; so, life expands from the small room with the door—so the windows open and stay open.

You were lost again. Point zero.

“What do I do with this information?” you ask, pleading.

Hyunjin feeds you, placing a hand under the fork. You accept the food, chewing slowly.

“You wait. You sit with us.”

“And you drink,” Felix adds with a wink.

A little past midnight, the drizzling turns into full on rain as you leave the restaurant. Your car is parked on the other side of the street, but the alcohol in your system makes you feel miles away from it. And you’re the most sober of the three of you.

The old lady offers to call a taxi for you, but Hyunjin politely refuses, holding Felix upwards. He blows her a kiss, bowing deeply. She shakes her head, but the smile on her face betrays her. No one can resist Hwang Hyunjin—his charm is undeniably irresistible.

“Get in!” you usher them, laughing, pressing the button to close the roof of the car. It takes them a while and a lot of stumbling, but they make it in the drenched backseat, where the dark-haired boy lays Mr. Sunshine on his side, and then proceeds to plop in the seat next to you, climbing his way to the front. Drunk logic, you think, but you can’t even personally find the hole to insert the key.

You sit staring at the steering wheel, praying to somehow sober up, even a little, so you don’t crash and die. This car will be a lot of money. But then again—these two idiots have that. Money. A lot of that.

“Hey, (Y/N), question for you—what do you think about me?” Felix slurs.

Cute, you faintly think. “Forest pixie,” you say out loud.

“Oh. Is that so? At least I upgraded from Tinker Bell.”

“Ha, no, you didn’t. You’re still mine,” Hyunjin says, and hiccups.

“That I am,” Felix giggles.

“What about me? What do you think about me, sweetheart?”

That hand on your thigh, again. The rain hitting against the windshield is making you sleepy. You start the car before it’s too late. Hyunjin plays music—this time it’s lo-fi.

“The whole fucking forest, Hwang Hyunjin,” you admit as you pull out of the parking spot. “All of it.”

He puts the hazard lights on, and you drive at twenty miles per hour, everything turning watercolor outside. You’re very aware of the fingers tapping your skin over the thin fabric of your dress, very aware of the alcohol running through your bloodstream—you think you might do something stupid.

You grip the wheel with both hands, force yourself to focus on the road. There’s barely anyone around at this hour, not in this side of town. The sound of your blinkers fills the entire car, Felix’s soft snores blending with the droplets on your windshield. Magic hour.

The time to swallow your heart and cover your ears. Anything alive will touch back now. Be careful.

“Should I stop now?” the only boy awake spoke. “Pretending? Should I stop?”

You take the turn, drive the straight line that comes, wish for the car to turn into a boat, the rain into river, so you can float, away away away—

“He’s leaving, isn’t he?” The truth. The only truth.

There are no words to follow it. Nothing he can say. So, he cries. He could drown you all if he wanted to, so big his sadness—the sadness shared, the sadness burdened into two—you cannot unsee it once you know. Do not dare.

And where to put it? Where to put it?

“Don’t you think you should address it at some point?”

“And risk him hating me forever? I’d rather burn myself alive.”

You put your signal on. Stop at the side of the road. You cannot stand his tears, cannot stand his despair. You get out. The rain seeps through your clothes, drips from your hair, and you run. Towards the sand, towards the waves that feel like the night sky in motion, and then you halt, sniffling, wiping your face.

Perhaps you’ve gone crazy. Perhaps you’re only drunk. No matter. No matter at all.

“You’ll catch a cold, angel.”

You’re shivering, and he’s right, but you don’t care. You thought lying to yourself wasn’t an option. For him to do this, it was hypocrisy—it was treachery.

“You’re ignoring your own heart and it will betray you, you’ll see. What good will it do if you wait one more day? One more month? You cannot prevent the inevitable, Hyunjin—I tried, okay? It doesn’t work.”

You don’t look at him. He doesn’t look at you, either. These words are too personal, cut through the magic into reality, somewhere the both of you cannot bare return to.

“I don’t know how to live without him.”

“Well, what are you going to do? Die? Because if so, let me go first, Hyunjin. I’ve been suffering longer than you have.”

His body slams on yours, knocking the very breath out of you. It’s a desperate attempt for closeness, but you get it. He needs this, needs a hug, a fucking hug, and you know what? You need it, too, as plain as it sounds. To know you’re not alone. To know it will be okay.

Your stomach is turning, twisting, and flipping on itself, uncomfortable with all the misery—so you spill out. You cannot forget, but you can cry, so you do.

You cry together, embracing in your shared wretchedness. His arms envelop you whole, take you down. Together you lay in the wet sand— a problem for later.

Sokcho is beautiful in all of its water. All it did today was wash away, clean, reveal.

You cannot forget, but you don’t think you have to. Not anymore.

[sometimesoliloquy]

The Handmaid’s Tale 5x07 “No Man’s Land” (or “For Fuck’s Sake, Serena!”) 👀

I was wondering if this episode was going to literally just be June and Serena, and wondered how they (and we) would survive it. Well, it very nearly was and yet somehow we all did (I think... are y’all ok?). I think it’s really just hit me that there are only 3 episodes left in this season(?!!) and really almost nothing has happened except for June being mad and murder-y a lot. And Putnam’s execution, which almost makes up for the rest. Anyway.

We arrive once again in the car with June and Serena. June is trying to get some answers but Serena is too busy moaning and clutching her stomach and trying to somehow seem threatening at the same time. My suspicion that Serena does in fact not know how to operate a gun is verified when she accidentally shoots the windshield out,  almost killing them (I wonder if she was she planning on holding the gun on June the entire time she was giving birth?). In the promo it definitely seemed like a third party was shooting at them (I’d thought, damn, Ezra sure runs fast with a bruised lung!) but no, they are thankfully (or unfortunately??) alone. June says fuck this and gets out to start her escape through the woods, but left to her own device for two seconds, Serena manages to drive the car off the road into a muddy ditch, and I guess June feels bad about how pathetic she is. Serena refuses to go to the hospital because "they'll" find her (let's be honest though, considering how we later see she feels about modern medicine and evolution, she probably wouldn't have regardless, and anyway she got the goddamn car stuck in a ditch). Luckily there just happens to be a barn within very-pregnant-lady-about-to-give-birth's stumbling distance away. June quips “Maybe there’ll be a manger”, saying what we were all thinking, and I mean if they’re going to be that blatant with symbolism I do appreciate them at least being self aware about it.

As they head to the shelter, we flash back to the duo attending a birthing ceremony in the early days of June’s enslavement their acquaintance. Serena breezes in with a nice little dig about their tardiness being due to what an insecure, whiny little man-baby Fred is, which I enjoyed. Aunt Lydia is being ridiculous as ever droning on about "God's vessels", but the best part is that we (all too briefly) get to see Alma and Brianna (how we've missed you, lovelies!!). June and Serena are the only ones who seem to realize how ridiculous the wife's fake labor pains are and trade a few covert smirks, which is weird considering Serena is soon to be so upset about June ruining her own pantomimed labor farce that she suggests to Fred that they violently rape her as punishment.

(literally Serena in s2)

Ostensibly it's supposed to make us believe that Serena was more sympathetic than we ever saw her actually be. That and lead into a nice transition of June telling Serena to "breeeeathe". June terrorizes comforts Serena by recalling  her brutal labor with Hannah, and her dangerous solitary labor with Nichole. Paranoid (but maybe rightly so given recent events), Serena pushes June away when she tries to help, and June is like k cool I'm out then, do it on your own. Back in the flashback, all is not going well with the birth, and Aunt Lydia casually gives the surgeon the go ahead to cut the baby out of the disposable vessel dying handmaid. The wives are escorted out of the birthing room because this is not for their delicate lady eyes, but the handmaids are forced to pray as they watch the grisly scene of their friend and peer being cut open like a ripe grapefruit just behind the sheet.

June is now using her girl scout skills to try and get the car out of the ditch, and succeeds (is there anything this woman can't do?)! But the blood on her hand from pushing the broken windshield glass out of the way reminds her of the very real possibility of Serena bleeding out and dying along with her baby, and she just can't do it (fuck!) and returns to a (for once) seemingly grateful Serena. June makes a pretty good midwife and soon enough (at least in tv show time) the baby is out and scooped up crying into June's arms. For a second June literally turns into Gollum and I was waiting for her to hiss "my precious" and scurry away with the lil bundle of joy, but then her face changes back to beatific and she hands the babe to Serena with happy tears in her eyes, moved at the miracle of birth. I had a hard time deciding which outcome I would have liked better, to be honest, although I guess it would have been pretty dark if June went and threw him into the fires of Mordor. At this point I am definitely wondering what they cut the umbilical cord with. A pair of abandoned shears left in the barn? Safety glass from the car window? Did June shoot it with the gun? These are the details I need to know but I guess we never will.

( Stew the rabbits! )

We get another flashback of Serena exchanging a sympathetic look with June after Ofclarence dies, and I guess we're supposed to believe that she really cares, even though she's literally only ever been nice when there's something she wants. Back at the barn, Serena decides to name the baby Noah: “the savior of humanity”, because I guess “Jesus” would be too on the nose (and after all Gileadeans are really more of Old Testament fans). June asks Serena "was it worth it" and Serena says right now she thinks it was, which even with the qualifier is the WRONG ANSWER, Serena, honestly what the actual fuck, woman. June however just continues to calmly make small talk about breastfeeding. I liked the part about Hannah getting frequent colds and that sometimes June couldn't stay home with her, "sometimes I didn't want to stay home with her." It provides some more color around the previous flashback of her giving Hannah tylenol to bring her temperature down so she could go to school, which she got SO MUCH SHIT for and was on Gilead's list of her motherly unfitness. But what a relatable thing, jesus christ, to just be human and doing your best to be a good mother and also want to have your own career and identity beyond that. Serena asks why she didn't kill her back at the Gilead information center, and June emotionally says "I didn't want to". Then Serena has to go and ruin the mood by bringing up FRED of all people. For chrissakes, Serena, know your audience. She asks if June thinks Noah will be like Fred and June says it depends on how he's raised, on what she tells him is his to take, the significance of which completely goes over Serena's head: "I want him to have everything". Goddamnit Serena, the point was for you NOT to raise him as an entitled rapey asshole.

The sunlight is still artistically streaming through the cracks in the barn walls as June tells Serena she's got to get to a hospital, or she and the baby could die. When she balks again at the idea, June pushes and Serena divulges the details of her worst bed & breakfast stay EVER (one star! good service but very creepy amenities, heavy kidnap vibes). "It was like I was their handmaid... it was like I was you" Serena says, in a way that definitely seems like she is shocked and offended by this because she still considers herself superior to June, not that she is feeling actual remorse or empathy. Serena's delirious solution is to ask June to take the baby and raise him. She seems to express remorse for her actions but it's probably just 1/3 self pity and 2/3 the fever, considering immediately after she starts rambling about June being an avenging angel, and herself being the "vessel", calling back to Aunt Lydia's speech. It was "God’s will" for her to deliver the baby and now she can die. June actually seems to consider it for a minute, but then is like um no, fuck that, we are not vessels, none of the handmaids you helped enslave were vessels, they were people, with lives, and that's why June is going to save hers."You're his mother and he belongs with you, That is God's will. Followed by definitely the least violent ``Do you understand me?" to date. They arrive at the hospital and Serena is wheeled away. June asks to use the phone from the on duty nurse who is pretty concerned by her appearance (I think June has been covered in dirt and/or blood for about 70% of the season so far) but complies. We hear Moira's relieved "June?" (although I'm not sure how she knew it was her??) and I guess we'll have to be happy with that because god knows when we'll get to actually see Moira do or say anything interesting again. June visits Serena 's room, where anti-vaxxer mommy complains at length about the modern medicine and baby formula saving both her and her son's lives (again, you can take the girl out of Gilead, but...). By the way, the IV stand behind Serena definitely looks like a uterus and ovaries, and I'm not sure if they always do and I just never noticed? Hm. June reminds Serena there "is no home, just wherever you are" (a sad reminder of how very not at home June feels in Canada) and Serena wryly replies "No Man's Land" (and that completes my bingo card!). It just struck me that June kills Fred in No Man's Land, and then later saves Serena's life and helps bring their son into the world in No Man's Land. Huh. Talk about the circle of life I guess. Serena says a thank you that seems sincere, and June leaves, seeming to be in the most peace she's felt in a long time.

She finds Luke waiting for her in the reception area and embraces him, relieved to see him alive, I’d imagine. He excitedly tells her Tuello has the usb drive and is looking at it now, which I guess must mean Luke did actually smuggle it up his you know what because there's no way Wheeler goons didn't search them...right? He wants to know wtf is going on with Serena, and June starts rambling about the baby and jaundice and Serena being fine and that is obviously not what Luke meant but he's barely paying attention to her anyway because police officers are arriving and ominous music is starting to play. He seems pleased but June is concerned and hurries back down the hall to Serena's room, where the Canadian immigration officers are detaining her for illegal border crossing. The ominous music builds as June turns to Luke and we learn that he's the one who called them. Serena, having been told she's going to be separated from Noah, desperately cries, screams and begs them not to take her baby. Luke, in the tone of a Jedi knight who's just turned to the dark side, says "At last, she knows how it feels" as June looks on in horror. 

(cue the Imperial March)

***

Damn. I had an inkling there would be a June-Serena reconciliation of some sort by the end of this episode but I have to admit, I did NOT see Luke's rise as a sith lord coming. And look, I've seen a lot of opinions celebrating this as a kind of heroic move, but the show was literally playing villain music as the reveal was happening so I'm just saying it as I saw (and heard) it. To be clear, all jokes aside, I am not saying that Luke is a villain. I understand his impulse for revenge, or justice, whatever he want to call it. I get that Serena is a very bad person who is very likely not actually remorseful or even capable of change (I still think she’s a sociopathic narcissist) and that she is the presently available proxy for Gilead and all of its evils. And  look, I could go on and on about what exactly justice looks like and the morality of the "eye-for-an-eye" type of justice but honestly, all of that is beside the point. Because the thing is, it wasn't really Luke's justice or vengeance to be had, or to execute on behalf of June. Serena is June's monster to slay. And from this insane, completely unexpected, cathartic experience June has just had, she's realized she doesn't actually need to. For the entire season she's been obsessed with revenge against Serena, convinced that what Lawrence told her was true, killing Fred "wouldn't be enough" because Serena was still out there. And then she finds in 5x04 that she can't do it. But I don't actually think it's until this episode, until she actually says the words, that she realizes it's because she doesn't want to. And she doesn't want to take Serena's baby away either.

And it's not even about forgiving or absolving her abuser, it's about realizing that she is not her, not them. She voices her fear to Moira in 5x04 : "what if this is who I am, now", what if her entire core has been reduced to this hurting ball of anger, intent on vengeance. Knowing no other way anymore but the hate and brutality Gilead taught her. And on the other end of this experience, she's found the answer that was inside of her: that despite the trauma and anger that's still there, Gilead did not take away her humanity, or her compassion. She doesn't have to live by the eye-for-an-eye rules she was conditioned to adhere to, it’s not going to bring Hannah back or bring Gilead down. She really meant her prayer for their children, that they may "live a life of peace, a life without all this hate and violence." And part of that means ending the cycle here, means not punishing an innocent baby for his parents’ crimes. This seems to maybe actually start her down a path of healing. The terrible irony is that all Luke has been wanting for the entire last season has been for June to heal and move on. And now just when it seems that June has found some peace, and can actually move on from her revenge obsession, he may have unintentionally thwarted this very thing with his own actions, and he doesn’t even realize it. I think June could have left that hospital and left Serena in the past, but now it seems she is going to get wrapped up in Serena's damn baby drama, and sadly Luke only has himself to blame for that. The story that the last few episodes seem to have been telling, that June and Luke have been finally getting in sync, seems clearly now to be an illusion, a fairytale, if you will. Now we see them not even just on different pages, but having switched pages entirely. It will be interesting to see where they go from here.

[rraveboy]

any hazy duo plushie havers in chat randomly look at them and be filled with so much unbridled joy and affection that you cannot help but kiss their bigass grapefruit sized heads . i cant control myself their giant rotund noggins are so soft and kissable

[mirsvintagesonytv]

Chuuya and Yuan headcanons bc I saw a post talking about how the fandom hates Yuan and I’ve had enougH!!! So I’m gonna shove my headcanons down ur throats.

Yuan was the one to do Chuuya's hair in the sheep. It used to be super long, and she'd braid it for him so it wouldn't get in his face. When Chuuya decided he wanted it short, Yuan was the one who cut it for him. She's extremely talented at doing other peoples hair, and both Chuuya and Shirase have commented that if they weren't so poor, she should go to beauty school and become a professional. (this is also in reference to her own unique hairstyle, she created that herself)

She was also the one to take Chuuya to the arcade for the first time. Every time they go now, they have a DDR battle, because it's Yuan's favourite, and the one she first showed Chuuya when they were kids

She basically taught him everything he knew about the world, since when they first met he was completely alone, isolated and unaware of anything. Yuan was Chuuya's first and best friend. She taught him to read, write, and even speak to some degree. She's like his sister. Therefore she gets super offended when he grows taller than her.

Yuan is the chef of the sheep. Basically she's the super capable big sister that everyone takes for granted, and so when Chuuya expresses interest in what she's doing, she goes full Gordon Ramsey mode and teaches him how to cook (there were definitely arguments, a lot of swearing, and food thrown around)

Yuan loves Chuuya's ability. She always looks for any excuse for him to use it on her so she can experience being weightless. They started doing the grocery runs together because of this, and Chuuya will use tainted to send Yuan up to the top shelf that neither of them (both being around the same height) can reach.

They also get up to a lot of mischief together, such as stealing shopping carts for joyrides, attempting to ride down large hills on stolen dinner trays from restaurants, using his ability to freak out pensioners, attempting to learn how to skateboard only to fall flat on their asses etc. which Shirase always ends up lecturing them about

Yuan is the only one to know specifics about Chuuya's past. Because she is a very light sleeper compared to the others (cough Shirase cough that man sleeps as hard as a rock prove me otherwise) and is generally quite a skittish person, she often gets woken up by Chuuya's very vivid nightmares. She is the one who will comfort him after them, and over time, Chuuya came to trust her enough to tell her about them and his past in general (what he can remember anyway) She was the only person in the sheep to know about this until Shirase was roped into stormbringer events, and she never told anyone else.

Because they are both essentially stray cats in terms of personality (skittish, untrusting, will bite your hand off if you touch them/approach them wrong) they immediately understand each other/ get along and hence they become close. This also means that Yuan knows how to interact with/manage Chuuya when things are bad, to a degree that Shirase cannot. They are besties your honor.

Short duo. Every time one of them is in an argument with Shirase or another sheep member, they'll give each other piggybacks to make themselves appear taller in front of the other person. They are so synchronised that it's second nature at this point

Yuan really likes Ducks. Chuuya promised her once that they'd get a pet duck one day and name it Grapefruit (one of the meanings of the first Kanji in her name) After Stormbringer events, Chuuya reaches out to Yuan, who is working in a cafe at the time, and pays for her to go to Beauty school to become a hairdresser. He also buys her a pet duck like he'd promised. Dazai had been confused by Chuuya's spending records that month, but he simply passed it off as a tax fraud thing (laundering money thru a duck business slay)

They are still in touch in the current timeline, and ever since Yuan graduated from school she has been the only person Chuuya will go to to get his hair done. He'll also drag along the akutagawa's sometimes, which led to Gin and Higuchi being the biggest Yuan stans there are. (higuchi followed Akutagawa there because she was curious where he got his hair done) They have girl talk!!! Higuchi SWEARS by Yuan's methods. Unfortunatley though, no miracle hairdressing could save akutagawa's eyebrows.

Back in the sheep, whenever Chuuya got injured, Yuan was the only one allowed to treat him because of his medical trauma. She was the only one he trusted enough to let her deal with his injuries. She has the steadiest sewing hand known to man. Even in the future, when Chuuya is in the mafia, he still will occasionally turn up to her shop when he is injured instead of reporting back, simply because he trusts her more than the mafia doctors. This becomes a lot more common after Dazai leaves since he was the only other person trusted with Chuuya when he was injured.

Her salon is called "Grapefruit's house" because of the duck. He just wanders around while people have their hair done. Tips are accepted in bird seed and ice water for Grapefruit <3 and he follows Yuan around everywhere.

Look i just want them to be happy okay??? THEY ARE EVERYTHING TO ME

[honeyspotpie]

Okay so I wish the Ninjago fandom made more names for platonic duos/trios :/ maybe I'm just a spoiled MonkieKidder who's used to every single character combination to ever be conceived in someone's head having a name lol... So as a gift to you all enjoy some of my Dragons Rising platonic (mostly duo) name suggestions! (I'm giving explanations for them just in case, even if most are obvious)

Arin + Sora = GrapeFruit Duo (I talked about this before but grapefruits are orange and (kinda?) pink just like them! Plus fruit themed duo names are my favorite ever :3)

Lloyd + Arin = ApplePie Duo (apples are associated green (like Lloyd!) and pies are Arin's thing! And I adore them and apple pie in general <3)

Lloyd + Arin + Sora = Hibiscus Tea Trio (this one just makes sense to me okay... The hibiscus flower is very Sora-Arin coded in my head and tea alludes to Master Wu therefore Master Lloyd blah blah you get it!!!)

Wyldfyre + Kai = Blaze Duo (speaks for itself)

Wyldfyre + Arin = Flicker Duo (just warmth, spark, light and all that... themcore... And simply calling them "Flicker" is so so cute)

Wyldfyre + Sora = PyroTech Duo (like pyrotechnics!! Kinda iffy on it I will see... Wyldcat is really cool too but it's more so their ship name^^)

Arin + Sora + Wyldfyre = Sunset Trio (I struggled with this one the most but I decided on Sunset because a) it reflects their colors (orange, pink and red are all sunset-y colors) and b) the sunset can represent the old ninja "setting" like the sun to let the new generation "shine" instead :D)

Sora + Nya = CatFish Duo (catfish are extremely silly I love them so much... cat because Sora's cat motif and fish because water/ocean so Nya!)

Arin + Nya = TidePod Duo (this was, no joke, my first thought when coming up with a name... I was thinking of orange and blue things and Tide Pods were the first thing that came to mind... Guess my humor is just forever stuck in 2019 haha)

Sora + Euphrasia = KittyKite Duo (kitty for Sora and kite because it flies in the wind so Euphrasia! This one rolls off the tongue :P)

Arin + Euphrasia = Tornado Duo (because Arin's Spinjitzu - spinjitzus are just mini tornados and tornados are air/wind disasters it just makes sense :0)

Honorable mention goes to the Geo + Sora duo (I JUST LOVE THEIR CANON INTERACTION AND THE WAY THEY PARRALEL EACH OTHER^^) I would probably call them something among the lines of "Repair Duo" or "RepairShop Duo" :]

Anyhow if you have any suggestions or ideas yourself, feel free to rb or comment!!!

[hazeltailofficial]

FLASHBACK FRIDAY

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Getting Ready- Mint Eyes & Pink Lips

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[fallenwingzero]

Frozen Teardrop Volume Four Author’s Notes Translation

This time Sumisawa talks about Relena and Father Maxwells (Duo) voice actors and how they inspired the characters, Frozen Teardrop inspired cocktails, as well as misinformation on fan sites. Translation under the read more:

Translation~

Afterword

I’m not in a position to call myself a “writer”, but I’ve been able to spread a surprising number of misunderstandings and falsehoods. As for funny jokes, the editor told me about this year’s April Fools Day article on an American site called “Manga Market” saying that “New Mobile Suit Gundam Wing will be made into a live-action movie in Hollywood!” where I am answering the interview. What’s more, in fluent English! Using words I’ve never seen or heard before!

It’s an honor to be treated as such a story, but on the contrary, the Wikipedia entry for “New Mobile Report Gundam Wing”, says, “Sumisawa said, ‘anime otaku and magazine editors can’t keep up with the script (scenario)’”. 

I would like to raise an objection to the article saying who it was aimed at.

What’s more, it even comes with a source (it says it’s from the setting record collection, Part II, which is no longer available!), so from now on, won’t it be misunderstood as a fact for eternity? That remark was spoken by director Masashi Ikeda and directed at me. “Aim for that kind of script” It wasn’t something I said.

Moreover, at the beginning of that sentence, there was the words “not to mention general viewers”. I get the sense that this was a deliberate deletion and change to make Sumisawa the enemy of those people. In that case, you may say that I should submit a change notification, but it is impossible for me, who is not familiar with computers, to ask. Asking the editor is rude and uncool and I wonder if someone would notice it and edit it off, (I don’t say such things) and I spend my days gritting my teeth and being filled with tears.

So dear readers, how are you? I’m the same drunken bastard.

When I started writing this novel, Mr. Torii, the helmsmen of VOYAGE, made an original cocktail called “Frozen Teardrop.” To introduce a little recipe, we mixed crushed ice and absolute currant vodka with a beautiful light blue grapefruit liqueur called “Hypnotic” as a base, blend it in a mixer and freeze it. A red cherry floats in it resembling Mars. The distribution is very difficult, but the point is that there are two small teardrop-shaped cubes inside. This represents Phobos and Deimos.

By the way, cherries can be green and blue so Mars has finished terraforming. This is the most delicious cocktail. It’s slightly sweet as if you’re dreaming, kindness and coldness coexist in the sourness like the sorrow of first love. Even women who don’t drink alcohol on a daily basis can enjoy it. However, if you drink two cups, you will become sleepy. Hypnotic means “hypnosis” in the French language, and you may end up in a cold sleep like Heero or Relena.

Mr. Torii also made “Snow White” based on apple liqueur. Mr. Torii, who is such a master, is now enjoying touring in Hokkaido and Tohoku on a large motorcycle. He’s like Father Maxwell. I don’t know if he’ll be back by Christmas, but VOYAGE has an even more talented captain and owner, Mr. Sekai, so I keep coming here.

Some of our readers are underage, so we shouldn’t be talking about alcohol all time, sorry. For that reason (what’s the reason?), I would like to tell you the inside story of the actors who played the characters of Gundam Wing.

In my case, as an anime screenwriter by profession, character creation is greatly influenced by the human nature of the actors. People often say that the women in Gundam Wing are portrayed as strong and tough, but in fact, it’s all thanks to the actors. All the female voice actors were beautiful and pretty and Relena is the very representative of that, and the attitude of daring to face the fate of hardships is the original dignity of Ms. Akiko Yajima.

Akiko Yajima’s anecdote is actually more impressive when she appears in a different place than during the dubbing of “Gundam Wing”. When I went on a launch trip for a certain program, I still can’t forget the sight of her yelling with the deep voice of abdominal breathing that she practiced everyday “Take it easy!” at men who were getting drunk late at night and playing practical jokes.

Still, while showing the sorrow of a pretty girl, she said, “This role is really hard to grasp,” and her serious face reminded me of Relena, who would wonder, “How war be eliminated from the world?”

In addition, Yajima, who met Mr. Ikeda who later became the director of another program after a long time, said lightly, “Please don’t disappear this time,” after greeting him was amazing. It’s crazy. I felt like I wanted to scream like Investigator Acht, “Here! There’s a real Relena here!”

Readers may feel a subtle difference in temperature in Relena, who appears in this novel, and some of you might feel that it is somewhat unreliable. However, if you can understand that this character’s trivial duality is the true strength of Gundam Wing, I think that you’ll be able to enjoy this world even more.

Thanks to Mr. Toshihiko Seki for voicing Father Maxwell, who has not yet been drawn, the characters have become like the narrators of these four volumes. Of course, Seki-san’s acting plan has also been adopted for the cute Duo, who insists on being roguish.

Mr. Toshihiko Seki’s voice has a very gentle, refreshing and comforting sound, as if he is trying to support someone from the shadows when he sees someone in trouble, even though he is troubled and careless and messed up. I’m sure you can hear the audio playing in your brain like that.

I’m really glad that I came up with this method of changing the narrator each time, even though it’s in first person.

But…. Ah, I wanted to write more, but this time I will end here. Please read my nonsense in volume 5 again. I would appreciate it if you could send me your impressions.

See you soon.

Katsuyuki Sumisawa.

~End Translation

[luminiscandleco]

It's time for the winter seasonal scent duo!

Vanilla Eggnog: If you liked the last eggnog candle I did, you'll go apeshit for this one. A sweet and mildly boozy blend of amaretto, rum, and vanilla mingles with a new-years'-resolution-busting combo of butter, sugar, cream, and spices.

White Pine & Grapefruit: Tired of regular old pine tree smell? Try this one on for size! It combines familiar notes of fir and white pine trees with spicy clove, sweet mistletoe berries, pink grapefruit, lily, and pineapple.

All scents are available either as wax melts or 6-ounce candles, which come in mercury glass jars in one of three colors and patterns, which are randomly selected!

Everything will go live on the site on January 14, 2023, at 12:00 pm Pacific time!

[anonymous-person-in-hellhole]

Bubs tries to make it up to the Consul...

By the time Bubblegum showered and got changed, they decided to go straight to the door of the... honestly, they're not sure what Clotted Cream Cookie thinks of them... an annoyance, probably... terrifying, at most... Ugh, what were they thinking? They feel confused... and they can’t even begin to think what those two must be feeling...

"Oh, Bubblegum Cookie. It's nice to see you again."

They looked up at the Consul they just spied on the night before, baffled at how his face is still that same damn smiling smirk... 'What? How? After everything I just put you through, you're just gonna smile at me?'

"... Is there an issue?"

"Wha- no... there's nothing... hi." They wave their hand awkwardly and start walking with him. Financier stares at them, her eyes sharp on anything suspicious she could see in their person, and other than the weapon behind their back, there seemed to be nothing, so her guard, while still up, was less aggressive against Bubblegum.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Okay, Bubs... let's try to be nicer... they both deserve that from you...)

"... So... what's up?"

"Hopefully, not you on the rooftops..." He said, his usual charm still intact.

"Hehe, what? Why would I be on top of there?" There was a very obvious strain on Bubblegum Cookie's voice and intonation because they were clue-ing him into keeping them being an assassin down.

Clotted Cream Cookie was almost confused at the statement until something clicked in his head and he played along;

"Ah of course, how could I be so imaginative? Clearly, you do not have those skills at all."

Bubs only awkwardly laughs as Clotted Cream continues on with his business per usual...

Clotted Cream had left for the warehouse where Strawberry Crepe would build and maintain the Waffle Bots of the kingdom. When the duo got there, they saw the young inventor excitedly telling Espresso all about the Waffle Bots, and the latter seemingly sassing the young child.

Suddenly, the Consul spoke out loudly, but not in a shouting way, "Ah, Strawberry Crepe Cookie! Espresso Cookie! I have been searching for you."

"Oh! 2% Connivingness! Come in!" Was the child's response to seeing him, then an eyebrow raised at the raven-haired purple blob of whoever-that-is.

"... Yet again, you see right through me, young friend! Ha ha!"

Bubs chuckles at the simple answer the Consul would serve.

“Hm, I wonder...” (Woah, did his voice just crack? That was so adorable! ... Wait, stick to the task at hand, Bubs!) Bubs then listened as the Consul asked the young inventor if they have scanned the Ancient Cookies’ dough before, and the Inventor relayed that their equipment almost broke down when they tried because of some sort of “overwhelming power,” which Clotted Cream pondered upon shortly before a villager came running in about a WaffleBot breaking down while building a house.

“WHAT?! Did you feed the robot yucky raisins again?! They are PRECISION TOOLS! I told you a HUNDRED TIMES that you should treat them with CAUTION!” They suddenly shouted, shocking Espresso, Clotted Cream, and Bubs.

“Woah, you need help, little guy?” Bubs offered.

“First off, not a guy, secondly, sure. Ugh, guess I have to go fix it... UH-GAIN! So long!”

“Wait, Bubblegum Cookie, I suggest we go together.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I was planning for us to spend the entire day together...”

“... You were?”

“Yes, I wanted to get to know you better...”

... Bubs hasn’t felt this... surprise since Grapefruit told them how much she loved them, back before...

“HELLO?! ARE YOU TWO DONE FLIRTING YET?! WE NEED TO GO NOW!”

“Right! Apologies!”

“Sorry! And we were not flirting!”

Clotted Cream asks the two enbies to go ahead and fix the robot because he needs to talk with his colleague, who’s been standing right there, watching this chaos unfold.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Forgive me for being so late... what can I do to help?”

“2% Connivingness, go help... them out on lifting that part up, we’re almost done.”

“Oh, good. Let me handle this one, Bubblegum Cookie...” Bubs rolled their eyes, until they saw the tails from his cape... thing (???) wrapped around the giant piece and placing it where it needs to be, and Strawberry Crepe fixing it. Bubs is impressed (and confused... what are those things made of?).

“Thanks, you two... now I just need to lecture these IDIOTS NOT TO FEED THE ROBOTS THEIR RAISINS!!!”

“Welp... while they do that... let’s continue on our walk, Bubblegum Cookie.”

“Yeah... let’s go...”

“Wait, before you do...” They then take a piece of Bubs’ hair and hides it in a glass jar. “Alright, now, you can leave.”

They leave quietly as they hear the young cookie “carefully” remind the Cookies about how the Wafflebots don’t eat, especially their raisins.

“That kid terrifies me...”

“They’re a very passionate cookie, that one... you can’t deny their talent, too.”

“Well, it’s not like you can ignore it...”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next place they travel to is the Solarium of Unity. This place is beautiful! Unlike most other places in the kingdom, Bubs doesn’t find it boring... there’s just so much beauty in the shining decor, the detailed floors, and of course, those stained sugar glass windows portraying the Five Ancient Heroes! Goshdarnit, they would marry this room if it was a Cookie!

“Ser Madeleine Cookie! It is strange to see you here in the Solarium of Unity all by yourself. Were you... sightseeing?”

(Nah, he was probably staring at his reflection in those stained glass windows...)

“Take a look, sire!” Madeleine responded, “Figures of the Five Heroes on the stained glass...”

(Told ‘ya...) But Bubs was actually incorrect, as Madeleine instead inquired on how the windows resemble the Republican style... they hope that he means the Crème Republic, and not... nevermind.

“True! Indeed, we are at the origin of our culture, my friend. Seeing it with my own eyes where it all began is, by all means, humbling. Wistful, even.”

Bubs’ smile suddenly becomes wistful itself... suddenly missing the Grapefruit Kingdom... the people, the culture, the history, the stories, the festivals and parties... they miss it...

“Are you okay?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for distracting you, it’s just... you looked so... despairful, all of a sudden...”

“... I’m fine.”

Clotted Cream nods, and pats Bubs on the back, before staring at their back, most likely wondering about the heavy weapon they carry around all the time, or if he damaged it, in some way.

Madeleine then decided to ask Clotted Cream about something, “Have you had a chance to visit our home, Mansion Madeleine, sir? I cannot help but reminisce it’s azure carpets and airy windows shedding warm sunlight...”

Bubs then starts thinking about home, that is until she hears a faint whisper that sounds like it’s saying ‘home’ too... (... Clotted Cream, what have you gone through...?)

Suddenly, he speaks again, “Ser Madeleine Cookie, I have been meaning to ask... What was the reason for you and your...” he tries to find the words to describe Madeleine and Espresso’s relationship, “... colleague’s departure from the Crème Republic?”

Bubs snickers, “And they were colleagues...”

“... What?”

“Nothing...”

Clotted Cream continues, “How did it happen that the two of you—Cookies of great merit without a doubt—were chosen among the many Paladins and scientists?”

“Oh, it happened before your appointment as Consul, sire.” Madeleine responds, “I trust you are well aware of the so-called ‘Light Fragment Incident,’ right?”

Bubs suddenly gets confused, “I’m sorry, the what?”

They suddenly see Madeleine’s eyes light up from excitement, and they realize what’s about to happen... (I should have stayed quiet.)

Madeleine clears his throat and says, “Though it was just the slightest sliver of a Light Fragment, it could have resulted in our glorious Republic being completely wiped off the map!”

Suddenly, Clotted Cream interjects him, “Yes, yes, of course. And it is you and Espresso Cookie we have to thank for our salvation, correct? And, in the end, it was confirmed that the Light Fragments were, in fact, pieces of Soul Jam?”

Bubs felt like they should be taking notes because of how lecture-like this conversation feels, and then, they remembered a very strange piece of knowledge they picked up from someone back at the kingdom...

“Wait, I remember hearing something about that... the Soul Jam got destroyed during the... what was it? The Nightflower War, or something?”

“Dark Flour War, dear Bubblegum Cookie.” Madeleine corrects them. “How do you not remember the name of such an important part of our history?”

“No, I just got a brain fart...”

“Then, let me jog your memory!” Madeleine started, “The Dark Flour War was a war that Dark Enchantress Cookie started to gain control of all existing Soul Jam.Thanks to the Ancient Heroes' collective efforts, the world as we know it exists to this day! However, the pieces of Soul Jam were scattered across the entire continent.”

“Oh, that war... Sorry, I forget the names of wars and conflicts easily...”

Clotted Cream then speaks, his tone more urgent, yet quiet.

“Could there be more of these Light Fragments in this land that are yet to be discovered?”

Bubs replies, “If there are, they could fall into some bad hands... maybe even Dark Enchantress herself.”

“If but a small fraction of Soul Jam is capable of destroying the Crème Republic, finding and securing the remaining pieces is a matter of grave importance.”

“And, it could be used to research the kind of power the Soul Jam have...”

Madeleine stares at the smaller, younger cookie, almost as if only just now realizing that they came to help the Consul in his45 plan, and now, there’s a question in his mind forming, and if Bubs could read minds, they would answer, but they can’t.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. It seems this puzzle is finally coming together... Alright then, why don’t we- Hm? Are you not coming, Ser Madeleine Cookie?”

“I’d like to stay a bit more and look at the stained glass!” (To stare at yourself?) “Please, do not wait for me and go first, sire!”

“Very well! It was a pleasure, Ser Madeleine Cookie!”

“Alright, thanks! See you soon, Madeleine!”

Clotted Cream stares at them, confused.

“What?”

“Did you just refer to Ser Madeleine Cookie as ‘Madeleine?’”

Bubs is, admittedly, flustered at this question, and as they walk, they explain, “It’s a lot easier for me to refer to others without having to add ‘Cookie’ at the very end of their names... so, if other cookies call you Clotted Cream Cookie, I would call you...” They pause, before finally continuing, “... ‘Clotted Cream’ is actually still a very long name... how about, Clotted? No, that sounds weird...”

“I’d say it’s not that bad of a nickname...”

“Well, I would never call you ‘Cream’ or ‘Creamy,’ cause there are far too many Cookies who are named that, and also, that nickname is just so gross...”

Clotted Cream raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think you need to waste your energy for this, it’s just a nickname...”

“Clotty works.”

Suddenly, he halts his steps, and stares at them with judgment in his eyes.

“How is ‘Clotted’ or ‘Cream’ weirder or grosser sounding than ‘Clotty?’”

Bubs just shrugs, and keeps walking, gesturing for “Clotty,” to come.

“I pray to the Divine Light that that nickname does not stay...”

“Too bad, Clotty.”

He sighs in defeat, then announces, “Well, we’ll be going to the tents of a king of a powerful kingdom next, so I suggest you try to hide your vulgarity.”

Their only response, “I’ll try my damnedest, sire Clotty.”

The two Cookies laugh at their banter together, although Clotted Cream tries to hold back his laughter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, purple... let’s see what you are made of...”

Strawberry Crepe places the piece of hair carefully in the machine’s scanning booth, and watches with baited breath, “What on Earthbread are you made out of?”

The list completes, and reveals that they are made of:

“50% bubblegum flavoring, 29% cunning, 13% wits, 7% added grapefruit, 1%... despair? Wow... they’re a mess. I thought they would have been more interesting... Welp, time to-”

Suddenly, Straberry Crepe stops dead in their tracks as they hear the machine whirring and glitching...

“What the?! What’s going on?!” They try to fix the machine, and the other villagers try to help, but whatever was happening suddenly stopped, and the scanner revealed something else...

Anomalous Nature Of Matter Acclimated Life Yeans

After the machine had written this, that’s when the magic machinery finally gave out, and Strawberry Crepe was left bewildered...

“What on Earthbread are ‘Life Yeans?’” They start wondering about what could 1% despair have been made of to do everything they just witnessed...

“I have to approach them on this.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“An unexpected visitor.” King Dark Cacao announces to his guards, all except Crunchy Chip, who is inconspicuously not here. “Clotted Cream Cookie, what brings you here?”

“Oh, I find a good walk in the morning rather beneficial!” Bubs snorts quietly at this answer, before nodding and “agreeing” with him. He continues, “Besides, there is much I would like to learn about the Dark Cacao Kingdom!”

“... You may speak.” The king says, seemingly cautiously.

“Your Majesty has managed to keep the throne for such a long time, warding off dire monsters and beasts... Your Cookies must respect you greatly. And that impressive wall...!”

Bubs cuts in, “I’m sure the reputation of the Dark Cacao warriors for their impeccable discipline is all thanks to Your Majesty’s being an exemplar of wisdom and strength!” They say, with the sweetest smile on their face, to which Clotted Cream is startled to see. He then quickly and smoothly returns to his confident (and cocky) smile.

“Hmm... Our warriors are strong, and our blades are sharp indeed.”

Something about this answer left Bubs with a small pit in their stomach... (I think the king is catching onto your plan, Clotted Cream...)

“All this time, you have been defending the continent bravely. Our own Republic owes the Dark Cacao Kingdom it’s safety!” (Clotted Cream... Clotty... please don’t tell me...)

“Yet I cannot help but wonder... Where does the source of such great strength lie?” (You’re not even holding back on this...) Bubs’ body language remains the same, but the eyes are the windows to the soul, and while it’s not obvious, it’s clear that their stare is one of judgment.

He continues on with how powerful he must be, even a king with a sword just like Dark Cacao, is to do all the things he’s done, and he asks where he gets this power, suggesting that it might even be the sword itself. Bubs internally facepalms...

King Dark Cacao suddenly shifts into a more defensive stance, “!!! Such uncanny interest in my sword...! Are you, too, tempted by it’s magical powers?” (Oh fridge...) He points his sword at Clotty’s neck, at which, Bubs gets in between him and the sword. (Oh, fridge! Why am I shielding him?! He deserves getting a crack in the cream-maker for that stunt!)

Clotty very nervously says, “... T-tempted?” He stumbles on his words before completing his sentence, his voice cracking from the shock, “No, no, not at all! I offer my apologies for causing a misunderstanding. I was merely... curious about the secret to your land’s greatness.” Bubs actually facepalms, finally figuratively breaking under the pressure.

“Great power brings nothing but dangers and harships of equal scale. Many a covetous gaze has been aimed at this blade, yet none have managed to wrest it from my hand.” Dark Cacao’s voice becomes dark and dangerous, “You, too, should not try. Unless you are prepared for the consequences of your actions...”

Bubs defensively says, “Your Majesty! Please, he had no covetous nor malicious intents with his query! (or at least, I pray to whatever’s up there...)”

Dark Cacao backs the sword away from them, after all, letting it be so close to them would essentially be giving them the chance to grab it. He then warns Clotted Cream, “Do not query about this sword for you are in no right to claim it.”

Clotted Cream apologizes, his voice still shaky and more cautious, “I-I... I apologize for my... intrusion. Clearly, my curiousity clouded my judgment. I hope Your Majesty understands.”

Bubs finally steps down from their defensive stance and goes back to his side.

“Good day, sir! I look forward to meeting you again at the council.” There was still a hint of anxiety in his voice, but it was well-hidden this time.

Dark Cacao then speaks again, “And I pray that an ex-knight, such as yourself, will protect better Cookies in the future...”

Bubs stares at him shocked, and only replies, “Do not worry, Your Majesty... he’s not... that bad...”

“I would beg to differ.” Dark Cacao says, begrudgingly

Bubs cautiously says their farewells to Dark Cacao and them and Clotty leave, shaken from that encounter.

“W... what was that...?”

“Nothing... this stays between the three of us...” He says in a demanding tone.

“Okay, but what was that approach...? I could see from a mile away he wasn’t going to be okay with that kind of question...”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t think that far ahead...” He says, sarcastically.

“... You really are just a sweet-talker...” Bubs blows a bubble before quickly popping it.

Clotted Cream only glares at them, at which Bubs raises their hands, then gestures that their lips are zipped. (There, I’ll keep this your dumb little secret...)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No matter what you say, my sword shall be sheathed.” Financier Cookie says, as stoic as always.

“Pshh! What a stubborn Cookie! W-wait here! We’ll have a bite, then we’ll be back!” Crunchy Chip Cookie and his Cream Wolf run to the tents to sustain themselves, preparing for a fight that Ser Financier will not partake in unless they are well-sustained enough. As a Paladin, her code forbids her from fighting those in need.

So why isn’t she being allowed to stop that meddling Cookie?

More importantly, how could the Consul trust such an untrustworthy Cookie to take a walk with him? They’ve both seen what they can do, and they clearly aren’t in need of much help...

So why?

She has to obey, as his guard, and as her duty. If he says he’ll handle this, she’ll only be keeping a sharp eye on the assassin, Bubblegum Cookie, and if they try to hurt the Consul, Financier will repay that pain over a hundred times over.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, why are we going to the academy?” Bubs wonders.

“I’m hoping to meet Pure Vanilla Cookie, and I can only assume he’d be here.”

“Hmm... well, he is just a wizard now... he probably just teaches...”

Suddenly, they both hear sighs and cheers, all for the blond, prince-like Cookie who’s charm has reached around the entire kingdom... Bubs felt like his personal bodyguard, the protector of a celebrity or something (I honestly wonder why he let Financier on her own? He really underestimates this kind of stuff).

“Oh? Mister Clotted Cream Cookie? What brings you to the Magic Academy?”

Clotted Cream answered, his voice so gentle, “I was hoping to talk to Pure Vanilla Cookie. Can I find him here, perchance?”

One young Cookie answers, “Pure Vanilla Cookie is teaching a class right now. You’ll find him in the lecture room!”

“Thank you kindly.” He places his hand under his chin, sending about a hundred of his fanclub swooning... (Ugh... you all are too easy...)

“There he is! But the lesson has just begun. I’m afraid you will have to wait.” Bubs suddenly gets close to the door, and listens in on the lecture... something about restoration magic? Wiz taught them about it before and how, in order for the healing spell to work, you have to care for the object... They remember using it for the little headpiece that Grapefruit gave to them... It was made out of Grapefruit too, designed specifically for them, and that if they ever need to have it fixed, just restore it with a spell, especially since they cared about her so much... happier times.

They watch as the students individually practice the spell on some old raisins, some struggling, and other excelling in the spell. Bubblegum feels so proud, especially of the one who immediately asked how to turn it back into a raisin.

“Haha, it must be a great pleasure to study under such a splendid teacher!” Clotted Cream respectfully says.

Bubblegum only replies, “I agree... it sounds fun to go back sometimes... although, I’d prefer not being stressed so much with schedules.”

“But we should not bother him. We shall pay him a visit later.”

“Agreed.” They both try to leave... keyword: try, because a large group of his fangroup of Cookies started questioning Bubs about who they were.

“Who are you?” 

“Why are you with Clotted Cream Cookie?” 

“What happened to Financier?” 

“Are you two dating?”

Bubs felt an overwhelming pit in their stomach. They were never used to this kind of attention... let alone being asked about personal things.

“They’re my partner.” Clotted Cream says, shocking everyone, including his “so-called” partner.

A sudden cacophonic noise of disappointment, shock, and rejection starts brewing, and Clotted Cream, though much more assertively, says,

“They’re my partner, and I would prefer it if you didn’t overwhelm them with your assumptions. Now we will be taking our leave.” He then holds on to Bubs’ back to support them, and they walk away to the Plaza, where there’ll be free space and fresh air, something Bubs desparately needs right now. As they walk, they hear whispers of how they wouldn’t even fit together, and how they would suit him so much better.

Bubs glares at them as they pass, hostility clear in their eyes, and they shut up immediately.

“You didn’t need to scare them, you know?”

“You didn’t need to call me your partner... we’re not even that close...”

“Well, you are for today...”

Bubs sighs, “Well clearly, I’ll have a LOT of competition.”

Clotty laughs softly and asks them, “Are you perhaps jealous?”

Bubs laughs back, and sarcastically replies, “In your dreams, princey...” They look away, a smirk forming in between their blushing cheeks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bubs takes nice deep breaths before trudging on to the Plaza, who surprisingly has the Hollyberry Cookie in it, playing with the children and teaching them life lessons, like how to protect yourself from adversaries. Just the Cookie Clotty was looking for.

“You seem tired, should I leave you here to rest, or-?”

“Nah, I’ve gone through worse... And I’m not that tired. Just slightly shocked...”

Suddenly, they both hear a very familiar voice, one that’s always flat and monotonous, say, “More youngsters... and Hollyberry Cookie.”

Hollyberry, in her usual boisterous tone, sweetly lectures the children, “No no no! You had the perfect opportunity to attack from the right flank!” She raises her shield and her smile, as per the usual, “And swing harder! At this rate, you wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against a baby Cake Monster!” She readies her shield, and commands,

“Again!”

The young Cookie, whom had a bag over her head for some reason, suddenly said, “But my hits are nothing against your shield!”

Another Cookie added, “She’s right! Nothing can get past that shield!”

“Real enemies will not go easy on you in a real battle!”

Bubs suddenly interjects, “That’s right! You can’t go into a fight expecting it to be an easily won challenge, you have to give it your all, even when it seems like the opponent is easily defeated! You must be able to protect yourself, use your surroundings to your advantage, find the weaknesses of your enemies and exploit them for your advantage!” Clotted Cream is surprised at this sudden speech, and Financier crosses her arms.

Hollyberry cheers, “Haha! I like this one! A real warrior, from what I can tell! And they are right! Try! Experiment! Again!”

Once Bubs finally returns, Clotty gives them a round of applause, “Well-worded speech, though morbid.”

“There is a beauty in the art of combat, in how it’s like a dance of knowing how to subdue your enemy.” Financier adds.

“Or crushing their hopes and dreams!” Bubs proudly proclaims. Financier only glares at them.

“Oh? Clotted Cream Cookie! As you can see, we were in the middle of a ‘battle!’” She laughs, “Let’s wrap this up, kids!” Some of the young Cookies say their goodbyes, one hugging Hollyberry as their farewell (that’s so adorable!!!), and another one running over to Bubs to ask how they know about these kinds of stuff. They only answer with, “It’s something you learn the more you fight, and not everyone has the same style, so you should always be prepared to learn on the fly!”

“But remember, sometimes, you should take mercy on your enemies.” Financier suddenly interjects, and Bubs begrudgingly agrees. The kid runs happily away, as Bubs and Financier share a quiet moment with each other (oh, Witches, she’s so pretty~).

“A rare chance to witness this legendary shield in action!” (Oh snakespit, not again...) “That gem in the center has a very peculiar gleam to it... Enchanted, I take it?”

“That one is no simple stone! It’s my Soul Jam!”

(Oh, thank the oven, she’s much more negotiable...)

Clotted Cream asks cautiously, “It’s light is a bit dim... Is something wrong?”

“Ah, that? You see, the power it used to hold shattered. But with the help of a rather unexpected group of friends, I managed to retrieve a fair amount.”

“And I can only assume that’s GingerBrave?” Bubs proudly queries, knowing that he had helped so many people.

“Oh? Are you two acquainted? Well, any friend of GingerBrave is a friend of mine, too!” She proclaims, which leaves Bubs with a wide grin.

They didn’t see it, but Clotty basically had a beet for a face because he saw them smile, and even Financier had nearly broken her streak as a stoic Cookie seeing it.

“And yes, it may not shine as bright as in its better days, but make no mistake; my shield can still surprise you! Haha! I can still protect anyone from any attack!”

Bubs’ heart flutters after hearing that, and they feel like the light at the end of the tunnel grows ever closer.

One of the children who stayed then whines, “That’s not fair! How are we supposed to win?”

Financier then speaks, “Just because someone’s shield is impenetrable does not mean that you can not find another way around it.”

“Ooh, this one’s a fighter, too! I like you already!”

“The Queen Mother and renowned Hero herself, yet still, she makes time to play with young Cookies. No wonder the Hollyberrians adore you!” He sighs... “I simply cannot wait to meet the other two of the Five.”

“Golden Cheese Cookie and White Lily Cookie, huh?”

Bubs, Financier, Clotty, and all the children then sit down on the warm floor and listen as Hollyberry recounts the two missing Cookies' personas and their past together, how Golden Cheese was rich, both in fun and in actual riches, and how White Lily always drifted around the world, travelling to seek the truth. Bubs could not be more intrigued than they are right now.

“Parting ways with close friends is never easy... you must be missing them greatly.” Clotty comforts Hollyberry, at which she says, her tone more hopeful,

“Well, you never know... After all, fate allowed me, Pure Vanilla Cookie, and Dark Cacao Cookie to reunite once more! One day, we’ll have a chance to greet our dear old friends once more, I’m sure of it!”

Suddenly, a child asks, “Hollyberry Cookie, are you gonna spar with us or not?”

“Coming!” She cheerfully replies, “Sorry! Looks like I have to go!”

“It was an honor!” Bubs thanks the elder, and the three wave their goodbyes to the children and Hollyberry Cookie. Bubs’ heart warms knowing someone like that is here to protect all those she can, and they pray that they-

“... can be just like that.” Bubs looks up, and sees Clotty finishing his and, unknowingly, their own sentence, catching them off-guard. Bubs smiles, seeing him be such a kind Cookie underneath all that poise and arrogance.

"See, you aren't that bad~" Bubs says, out loudly, and by accident, as could be told when looking at the suddenly beet red face they had.

“Are there intruders on our ship?” Financier interrupts Bubs, bringing attention to certain small Cookie figures in the ship rode on by the Crème Republic representatives of the council.

Clotted Cream requests, “Perhaps they are just citizens of the Kingdom... let us be civil.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Those are definitely children in there...”

Financier said, her tone more cheerful than usual, “I’ll deal with them...” She hopped on aboard, and asked, “What is going on here?” She says, delight clear at the smallest curve of her lips and her more cheery way of asking the query.

“ZOINKS! O-oh, sorry! We were just...” The child, in a panic, tried to explain why he and his friend were in their ship, before Clotted Cream entered and queried:

“Hello! How do you like our airship, friends?”

“S-sorry! We didn’t touch anything! I swear!” The other child pleaded.

“Ha ha... Don’t worry! You may look around as much as you please.” Clotted Cream said in a calm and understanding tone.

“... We can?!”

Clotty gives a gentle response, “Of course! Flying vessels like this one are the pride of our Crème Republic.”

Bubs enters and looks around... seeing the beauty of the ship, the clean and decorated walls and floors, the size of the ship... they wish they were a pirate, because, as those pirate movies always say about their ships, “she’s a beaut, ain’t she?”

Clotted Cream then ponders, and asks them about how Cookies like them, likely ones who don’t have an airship, were able to get to the floating-in-the-sky kingdom.

“We found a shiny stone in our village down below! Then, a column of light appeared from the stone... and then, we used it to come here!”

“It was just like magic! I think it was magic... right?”

“Hm... ‘it’s like a magic column of light?’” Bubs says, curious about what happened.

“What a curious story! I bet it was very fun! But, I am afraid I must take my leave. Hope you have a great time here!”

The trio leave, watching the children have fun. Financier taps Clotted Cream on the arm, and asks,

“Consul, sir. How is it possible to travel via a... ‘column of light?’ I don’t believe we have such technology in the Republic. How did these Cookies...?”

“Luck. Mere luck and coincidence.” Clotted Cream’s voice suddenly becomes cold and Bubs becomes shocked at this sudden shift in tone. As he explains to Financier what he’s gathered, Bubs is thinking about how that shift was so... unexpected. Their was a very faint hint of purple forming at their cheeks the more they thought of the swap.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clotted Cream, Financier, and Bubblegum return to Clotty’s chamber door.

“Thank you for your time, Bubblegum Cookie.”

“No problem, Clotty-” Bubs stretches their pronunciation and finishes, “-ed Cream... Cookie.”

Financier raises an eyebrow, but says nothing, per usual.

“I just want to ask... what was my contribution to your morning?”

“Um...” Is Clotted Cream’s blushing answer, before he composes himself and continues, “So that I know I can trust you.”

“So you made me walk with you the entire day, doing absolutely nothing but enjoying time with each other?”

“Yes?”

Bubs chuckles. “So... do you trust me?”

“Now, I do.”

“Bad decision, but alright...” Clotty chuckles, and Bubs smiles slightly wider seeing him do so...

“So, I assume this is where we part ways?”

“Yes... I assume so... unless you want to stay?" Suddenly, a hint of mischief is apparent in his voice, "Or maybe you’ll be back, just without me knowing again...”

“Yeah. hehe...”

The two give each other a hug, Bubs gives Financier a handshake, and Clotty says,

“Goodbye, my ‘partner.’” Bubs chuckles for the millionth time, and replies,

“See you soon, Clotty...” They wave goodbye to their... friend, they guess...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So... how’d your date go?” GingerBrave eagerly asked, sitting on a chair backwards.

“Haha... funny, kid...” They roll their eyes, but the blush in their cheeks makes GingerBrave think that there’s something more.

“There may be something there that wasn’t there before~” GingerBrave sings gleefully to tease Bubs, and Bubs groans in response.

“Can you just get ready, the council’s about to start.”

“You just can’t wait to see him again, don’t you?”

“Kid, you might be next on my list of targets if you don’t stop...” Brave zips their lip and winks. Bubs laughs in response, then don their spy gear.

[r4bbitdragon]

so when i posted miss grapefruit i said that i was endeared enough by her i might purchase a second teennar doll just to give her a friend and. i did! i did do that.

given that it was a blindbox situation, Very pleased with getting miss strawberry, she was one of my favorites to match with grapefruit, i think they look great as a duo! although strawberry does have a couple issues grapefruit doesnt. a neutral thing is that she’s the only doll in the wave with a winking face, which Is cute but also limiting in some ways.

the other is her jacket- i think it looks great on her, and its a fully separate piece, which is cool, but its also a separate piece over the long sleeves she already has, which limits her arm movement some, and can be hard to lay properly flat against her vest.

in the end though that’s a pretty acceptable sacrifice to me, im still Very happy with her as a doll

also, besides strawberry herself i picked them up a couple of props. for one, some of the other art or grapefruit had her with a bird companion, so i got a little gatchapon bird and birdhouse for her to be friends with. also when walking back from taking this photo, it turned out the dollar store had perfectly in scale wooden chairs for them! hell yeah

but yeah. like these dolls. might Eventually grab one or two more (i like the look of lime and apple) but not as blindboxes now. not risking a repeat now that ive gotten two of the 6 main dolls already :P

HONK