octavesonline02

[stqrgirlie0]

⋆✮theodore nott-pt 3✮⋆

part 1 / part 2 / part 4 theodore’s most nightmarish memory that he remembers was of the week of his mothers death. angry men dressed in black would patrol the hallways, occupy the dining room and take up every ounce of what theo used to call his home. night after night theo would toss and turn in his bed, struggling to sleep with deranged laughter echoing from downstairs. he hated his father, he truly did, but theo couldn’t deny how his heart quenched when he heard his father’s blood curdling scream reverberating through the empty halls one night. despite being only 8 years of age, theo knew what it meant. his fathers loyalty didn’t lie with him or with the name of Nott, but instead with you know who. not only did this fuck theo up a lot, it also fostered a fear of abandonment and trust issues- explaining why he stayed away from relationships for the beginning of his school life. the week flew by and suddenly he lost both his mother and his father, a pain that he would never want to inflict on anyone; not even his worst enemy. narcissa, knowing of Theo’s hardships and struggles, tried her best to keep theo distracted and welcomed into the Malfoy family. (4th year) theo and Draco eventually slightly drifted off, leading their own lives, Draco focused more on his relationship with Astoria, while theo focused on his friendship with Mattheo. Draco was a great friend to Theo, but things eventually get harder when you can’t relate about anything with the other person. Theo came from a severely broken family, whereas Draco didn’t. Draco had a shitty father as well I’ll admit that, but despite both of the father’s prioritising you know who’s desires, Lucius still provided for Draco. better still, he provided the best for Draco whereas Theo’s father only just provided the bare minimum for theo. Mattheo saw right through Theo’s facade of being “okay”, because Mattheo remembered when he was in the same position. not okay, no one to talk to, no family, nothing. having someone to talk to whenever he wanted, about whatever he wanted was a lot of help for theo, instead of bottling up his feelings, he was able to express them and talk about them. and this is what lead to your first interaction with theo.

It was about 10:30pm, half an hour after curfew, and instead of being in bed and getting sleep, you were wandering the halls ‘getting fresh air’ as you told pansy and Daphne. the atmosphere was eerily quiet, apart from the occasional creak of floorboards under your feet, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of loneliness. dim torches flickered along the stone walls, casting elongated shadows that danced and swayed with every rush of air. the portraits lining the corridors were silent, their occupants fast asleep or watching your journey with curious eyes. you moved cautiously, the echo of your footsteps reverberated through the empty corridors, as you made your way to the scary stairs of the astronomy tower. unknowingly walking in on theo, his head lifted up and you immediately stopped in your tracks. the moonlight travelled in through the open space, casting ethereal beams onto theo’s face. a breathtaking view.

‘looking for someone?’ he snapped you out of your thoughts. you slowly moved towards the bench he sat on. ‘no, just getting a bit of fresh air,’ you internally cringed at the floorboard creaking beneath your feet as you took a seat on the same bench. ‘what are doing here?’ ‘waiting for Mattheo.’ he says, burning holes through you with his intense gaze. ‘oh, do you want me to leave so th-’ ‘No need, stay.’ as you sat beside theo on the bench, the tension between you and him was solid in the silent night air. his gaze was intense, almost analysing, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words. you looked away, admiring the beautiful night sky. theo's presence, unexpected yet strangely comforting, filled the night with a new sense of intimacy. you stole a glance at him, the moonlight tracing the contours of his face, casting shadows that accentuated his features. there was a vulnerability to him in this moment, something that both intrigued and captivated you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound being the soft rustle of the night breeze through the open space. you found yourself drawn to theo, to the mystery that surrounds him, and the unspoken connection that seemed to exist between you.

breaking the silence, you finally mustered the courage to speak. "why are you waiting for Mattheo?" you asked, curiosity lacing your words.

theo's expression softened slightly at your question, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. "just... needed to talk to him about something," he replied vaguely, his eyes never leaving yours. you nod, sensing that there was more to his answer than he was letting on, an unspoken understanding between you two spoke louder than his words. as the silence stretched between you and theo, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted the silence of the night. you both turned your heads towards the entrance of the astronomy tower, where Mattheo appeared, his figure outlined by the moonlight filtering in.

there was a moment of surprise followed by a warm smile as Mattheo spotted you and theo sitting together. "Hey, what are you two doing here?" he asks, his tone curious but friendly.

"oh nothing, think I'll leave you two to catch up," you said your voice light but tinged with a hint of reluctance. "nice seeing you theo, bye Mattheo.”

you turned on your heel and made your way towards the exit of the astronomy tower, the sound of their voices echoing behind you. As you stepped out into the cool night air, a sense of relief washed over you, grateful for the chance to retreat into the peace of the castle.

following from this interaction, your relationship with theo blossomed into a genuine ‘friendship’. within the classroom; friendly rivals and behind closed doors; two lovers. to the student eye, glances were stolen, banters were laughed at and comebacks were retorted. but only you two knew how hands were joined, kisses were stolen and clothes were removed (🤭)

everything about theo in a relationship was perfection, he was respectful, loving and warm-hearted- everything you could ever want in a man.

#okay idk where i went with this one😭😭 #idk if y’all want a pt 4 but if you guys do I wouldn’t mind taking in suggestions of what you’d want me to include! #if you have suggestion for pt 4 do send it in an ask🙏🙏 #would be much appreciated bcs I’m running out of ideas ibsr #love y’all xoxo

taglist: @iamgayforyourmom1510 @lovelyygirl8

[joelscoffeemachine]

Control

Joel miller x f!reader

Word count: somewhere around 2.k

Summary: While Joel is cleaning you up after night patrol, you confess to him that you found your daughter’s killer, meaning you’re leaving Jackson.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff (if you squint), mentions of loss, THE slutty knee (ifykyk), tiniest bit of language, Jackson era!Joel, brief description of blood, trauma, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. Apologies if I missed anything.

You had just gotten back from patrol, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Your clothes were stained with blood, some of it yours, some of it not.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your legs pressed up against Joel’s chest as he kneeled in front of you.

His face was etched with concern, his eyes scanning your body for injuries.

He had a bucket of water next to him, steam rising from its surface.

A rag was in his hand, dripping wet. He squeezed it dry, the water splashing softly back into the bucket.

With gentle care, he wiped the rag across your face, removing the grime and blood.

The warmth of the cloth was a stark contrast to the coldness you felt inside.

You gazed directly into his eyes, searching for comfort in their depths.

The memories of the patrol were still fresh, haunting your thoughts. You were both quiet, the silence heavy with unspoken words. The only noises were the creaking of the floorboards under Joel’s weight and the rhythmic drip of water falling back into the bucket.

Each drop seemed to echo in the room, a reminder of the night's events.

His free hand gently cradled your face, keeping it steady as the other meticulously cleaned away the remnants of the night.

Each wipe seemed to carry away a piece of the horror, but it was so much that after every pass, he had to rinse the rag in the bucket.

The water quickly turned murky, a testament to the ordeal you had endured.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat when his hand found your jaw again, softly tilting your head to get a better angle.

The room felt heavy with the weight of unspoken words, the silence almost suffocating.

But the more you thought about it, the more you knew you had to say it. The truth was a knot in your chest, tightening with every passing second.

“Joel,” you started, your voice breaking the silence.

He hummed in response almost instantly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, as if he had been waiting for you to speak.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your voice came out wobbly and almost high-pitched, betraying your emotions.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” The words hung in the air between you, heavy and final.

He stopped for a moment, his eyes wide and confused as he looked into yours.

It was as if he didn’t believe what you were saying. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with tension.

He looked at you with disbelief, his brows furrowing deeply, before dropping the rag into the bucket with a soft splash.

His hand found its way to your thighs, a gesture meant to ground both of you in the moment. He looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of your words settled in.

After a moment of silence, he looked back at you, tilting his head curiously, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or hesitation.

“…Leaving?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, laced with uncertainty and a hint of desperation.

You nod as your fingers find each other, fidgeting nervously at this situation.

Joel and you had a one-night stand that started with a chance meeting at his little brother’s usual bar party’s.

The night was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and a connection that felt electric.

Since then, you haven’t been inseparable, sharing countless moments that blurred the lines between friendship and something more.

You guess you could call him a close friend, so you knew this was going to be hard for him, and you. Because deep down, you loved him.

You dig your fingers into your thigh, the pressure a small attempt to ground yourself, looking up at the roof to avoid the tears falling down your cheeks as you whispered, “I’m leaving Jackson, m’gonna go to San Diego.”

He lifted one hand off your thigh, the spot going cold as he forced you to look into his dark eyes.

His grip on your chin was gentle but firm, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

The intensity in his gaze made your heart ache even more, knowing that this decision was tearing both of you apart.

He looked at you, his jaw clenching just slightly. He didn’t show too much expression, but he was clearly upset by your decision.

A small huff left his nose, his eyes staring into yours.

“Why?” he asks, his hand tightening around your face.

“You’re safe here. You��ve got friends here. A family,” he says, as if he’s trying to convince you to stay.

His voice wavers slightly, betraying the calm facade he’s trying to maintain. The weight of his words hangs in the air, making your heart ache even more.

You can see the pain in his eyes, even if he’s trying to hide it.

The memory of that night together flashes through your mind—the way his touch felt, the way his voice sounded when he whispered your name.

It was more than just a one-night stand; it was the beginning of something neither of you had fully acknowledged until now.

You nudge your head out the way, slightly scoffing as you glance down at your lap, your hair hanging like a curtain, hiding your face.

You could tell Joel was glaring at you, the sound of his heavy breathing filled the room, almost suffocating.

“I have no family. If I did, my daughter would still be here,” you whisper, your voice cracking as you sniffle, looking back at Joel with tear-filled eyes.

You sigh shakily, the memories of her flooding your mind.

Her smile was gorgeous, lighting up any room she walked into, her laugh was contagious, making everyone around her join in, and she smelled like fresh flowers, a scent that lingered long after she left. You had told Joel about her before, and he had shared stories of Sarah.

You knew she would’ve loved Sarah, just like she loved everybody else.

“And you can clearly see it’s not safe here with me. I have my days where I can be violent and accidentally hurt people,” your voice grows a bit louder now, your jaw clenched as you speak the painful truth, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air.

He looked at you, his hand loosening against your jaw and falling into his lap.

His touch had been gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid of breaking you further.

He tried to come up with an argument for your statement, but he knew you were right.

You had days where you’d go completely berserk and almost kill people. Those were the days when the darkness inside you took over, and no amount of reasoning could pull you back.

He sighed, his eyes scanning over you as he tried to come up with something to get you to stay. He had come to care for you a lot.

He didn’t want you to leave. His mind raced, searching for the right words, but all he could think about was the fear of losing you.

The room felt colder, the silence between you growing heavier with each passing second.

You looked at him for any sort of reaction, all you could see was slight anger, but he said nothing, so you continued.

“I found her killer—”

He stood up, a sharp sigh falling out of his mouth that made you speak quicker and louder as your eyes followed his maybe annoyed face.

“Joel, I’ve been tracking him for twenty years. Since fucking outbreak day! T-This is something good for me.” You argue, raising your eyebrows, trying to get your point across.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of two decades' worth of frustration and determination pressing down on you.

You waited for his response, for anything.

But he stood there, his knee slightly bent as his hands rested on his hips. His eyes bore into yours, a storm of emotions flickering across his face—anger, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of sorrow.

The room felt charged with tension, every second stretching into an eternity as you both stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills.

His hands gripped around his hips, his eyes locked onto you, like twin daggers piercing through your very soul.

You weren’t sure if he was listening anymore; he was just staring down at you, his face a mask of controlled fury. His lips pursed tightly, and his jaw clenched so hard you could almost hear his teeth grinding.

You watched him silently, your breath shallow and your heart racing.

And he watched you as well, his eyes unblinking, filled with a mixture of emotions that you couldn't quite decipher.

Both of you looking, but saying nothing. Both of you waiting for the other to speak, the silence between you growing heavier with each passing second.

It felt as if the air itself was thick with tension, every moment stretching into an eternity as you both stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills.

“Joel, say something.” you urge, your voice quiet but filled with a desperate need for a response.

You sigh softly, looking back down at your lap as your fingers lock in with each other, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

The night Joel and you gave in to each other, you opened up completely. You told him everything. You told him how you were abused as a kid, how you had your daughter at a young age, and what you were doing on outbreak day.

He knows everything about you. You know everything about him. He’s been there for you when you go crazy on days, holding you through the worst of it.

You’ve been working on control, practicing the techniques he taught you. It’s actually been getting a lot better. But some things still trigger you, bringing back the memories and the pain.

And right now, you’re controlling. Just like Joel taught you. You focus on your breathing, taking deep, steady breaths. Inhale, exhale. Again, again, again.

You clench your fist, feeling the tension build in your muscles. Then, slowly, you release, letting go of the tightness. It’s a small victory, but it’s progress.

You remind yourself that you’re stronger now, more in control. And you’re not alone. Joel is here, even if he’s silent right now. You just need him to say something, anything, to break the silence and remind you that he’s still with you in this fight.

When you looked back up at him, you saw that his eyes had softened. There was a tinge of sadness in them as he listened to you.

He stood back, placing his head against the wall as he let out a sigh, his eyes locked onto yours as he spoke.

“What about everyone here? You’re gonna leave them behind?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern and a hint of disbelief.

His words hung in the air, a palpable tension filling the space between you. You could see the conflict in his eyes, a mixture of worry and a deep, unspoken fear of losing you.

You push yourself off the bed, rolling your eyes.

“I have no one,” you mutter, a bitter edge to your voice.

The room feels suffocating, the walls closing in as the weight of your words hangs in the air. You pace across the floor, each step heavy with frustration and a sense of isolation that’s been gnawing at you for days, weeks, maybe even longer.

The bed, once a place of comfort, now feels like a cage. The sheets are tangled, a mess that mirrors the chaos in your mind.

You glance around the room, eyes landing on the photographs pinned to the wall, the mementos of happier times.

Each one feels like a ghost, a reminder of connections that have faded or been severed.

Your fingers brush against the edge of the desk, where a half-finished letter lies abandoned.

The words you couldn’t bring yourself to write still echo in your thoughts. It’s not that you don’t want to reach out; it’s that you don’t know how anymore.

The fear of rejection, of being a burden, holds you back.

You stop in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. The person looking back at you seems like a stranger, eyes dull and shoulders slumped.

You wonder when you became so closed off, so convinced that you were alone.

The loneliness is a heavy cloak, one that you’ve wrapped around yourself for protection but now feels like it’s suffocating you.

Taking a deep breath, you try to shake off the negativity.

“I have no one,” you repeat, but this time it’s softer, more introspective.

You realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been pushing people away, building walls instead of bridges. The thought is both terrifying and liberating.

With a newfound resolve, you decide to take a step, however small, towards reconnecting. It won’t be easy, and the fear won’t vanish overnight, but you know that you can’t keep living like this.

You deserve more, and deep down, you know that there are people who care about you, even if you’ve lost sight of that.

You can see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clench into fists before he forces them to relax.

His eyes, usually so warm and kind, now seem clouded with confusion and pain.

The room feels charged, the air thick with unspoken words and the gravity of the moment.

Joel’s presence fills the space between you, his proximity making your heart beat faster.

You can feel the intensity of his gaze, searching your face for answers, for some sign that you didn’t mean what you said.

The silence stretches on, heavy and uncomfortable, as you struggle to find the right words to bridge the gap that’s suddenly opened up between you.

“So i’m no one now?”

The realization hits you that your careless words have cut deeper than you intended.

Joel has always been there, a steady presence in your life, and seeing the hurt in his eyes makes you regret the thoughtless remark.

You know you need to fix this, to show him that he means more to you than anyone else.

“Joel, I need this,” you say, your voice trembling slightly.

The weight of the words hangs in the air between you two. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and look directly into his eyes.

His expression softens just a bit, but the tension is still there. You can see the conflict in his eyes, a mixture of concern and frustration.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his stance defensive, as if bracing himself for what you’re about to say next.

You step closer, closing the gap between you, and place a hand gently on his arm.

“It’s not about you,” you continue, your voice more earnest now.

“This is something I’ve been working towards for so long. It’s a part of me, a dream I can’t let go of.”

Joel’s gaze drops to the floor, and you can see the battle he’s fighting within himself. He takes a deep breath, and when he looks back up at you, there’s a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

The silence that follows is heavy, but it’s also filled with a sense of unspoken acceptance, a tentative step towards reconciliation.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes staring you down with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“No,” he says, shaking his head, his voice stern and unyielding.

“You need to stay in Jackson,” he continues, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture that seems to lock him into his decision.

His stance is firm, his jaw set in a determined line.

The muscles in his arms tense slightly, revealing just how serious he is about this.

You can see the concern etched into his features, the way his brows knit together and the tightness around his mouth.

His eyes, though hard, hold a flicker of something deeper—fear, perhaps, or a desperate need to protect.

The room feels smaller, the air thick with the weight of his words. You can almost hear the echo of his command bouncing off the walls, leaving no room for argument.

His presence is imposing, a wall you’re not sure you can break through.

“Why, so I can hurt another innocent person? So, I can hurt you?” you exclaim, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

The words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered, like a wound freshly opened. You can feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall.

Your hands clench into fists at your sides, trembling with the intensity of your feelings.

The room seems to close in around you, the walls pressing in as if to suffocate the anguish that’s pouring out of you. The silence that follows is deafening, filled with the echoes of your own pain and regret.

You can see the shock in his eyes, the way his face pales slightly, as if he’s been struck by the force of your words.

Every breath you take feels heavy, laden with the burden of your past actions and the fear of repeating them. The weight of your guilt is almost too much to bear, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself.

He didn’t respond yet, he just stood in front of you, his eyes watching you carefully, as if searching for something in your expression.

He exhaled deeply once more, the sound filled with a mix of frustration and determination.

“You can control it. You’ve been getting better,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but firm.

“What if all the progress disappears?” you ask, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

A scoff left his lips, a sharp sound that cut through the tension.

“That’s not going to happen,” he said rather sharply, before he stopped himself, taking a moment to calm down.

His eyes scanned you up and down, taking in every detail of your worried stance.

“How are you so sure?” you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper.

He paused, his arms falling to his sides in a gesture of openness.

“Because I know you, and I know that you don’t want to hurt people. And I know that your daughter wouldn’t want this. So stay,” he answers firmly, his eyes locked onto yours with an unwavering intensity.

“Fine.”

[multiisketch]

So regarding your Fleetway IDW AU, how would Shadow and Espio react to this twisted variant of Super Sonic, knowing that their criticism regarding his decision to spare Mr. Tinker is what pushed him down that path?

What is the Fleetway IDW AU? Click Here for the Comic | Notes

Hmmmm, that's tricky! Let's start with the easier one:

Espio

I think Espio would feel guilty if he knew his words drove Sonic to this point. He clearly was under a lot of stress during the Spiral Hill Rescue given he had just lost Vector and Charmy at the Resistance HQ, so his outburst was uncharacteristic. You can see he instantly regretted it a few panels later when he and Sonic stare at each other, sweating. They move on quickly because Espio realizes he was wrong, but there's no time for apologies. They have people to save and protect.

Espio is the type of person who is willing to voice his opinion on a serious matter, but will defer to those he sees as more experienced--such as Sonic and Vector--for the final say. They are the leaders. Not him. But that doesn't mean he necessarily likes the decisions that are made. With Sonic's decision to leave Mr. Tinker alone and Vector's decision to contain Zombot Charmy, Espio trusted their decision-making because he knew they had good intentions despite his concerns with their plans. However, his compliance led to disaster both times. Eggman returned and Zombot Charmy got out.

Espio would be completely devastated to find that his inability to keep his own emotions in check drove someone he respects to the point that Sonic is driven as Fleetway. And, of course, Fleetway would use this to his every advantage even if it's not necessarily the whole truth. Luckily, Espio would have Vector and Charmy to back him up this time. They wouldn't let him bare the weight of his guilt for too long and, likely, be able to convince him that if he truly wants to make it up to Sonic then they need to stop him from destroying himself over his guilt, too.

Shadow

Oh, boy. Talk about a character that is hard to nail down a reaction for! I'm going to frame this analysis based on my understanding of IDW Shadow since that is the canon we're working in, so if anything seems out of character, I apologize.

Shadow, at his most basic, uncomplicated level, respects Sonic. Their rivalry would seem more so based on the fact that Shadow doesn't necessarily appreciate Sonic's carefree, hopeful outlook on a world he views as harsh and unforgiving. It frustrates him when Sonic continues to save the day with a bright smile and friendship because the last time he trusted the light, it was shot dead in front of him. Shadow is critical of Sonic's naivete, but he still values his optimism and the fact that Sonic's approach usually works out for the better. Which is why when Sonic argues that Mr. Tinker deserves forgiveness over MEMORY LOSS just like SHADOW DID, Shadow thinks twice.

And yet, in the end, Shadow believes his darker world view is proven right. Another light was extinguished and now people are hurting. He should have known better given his experience, but Sonic convinced him so he pushes the blame and gets himself into trouble in the process (more on why Shadow did that here).

And then Sonic saves the day without him. And now Shadow gets to ponder more on Sonic's way of thinking. About how, deep-down, he knows letting Mr. Tinker live is what Maria would have wanted despite the trouble it had caused. Because in the end Sonic's approach ends with everyone happy and healthy. Sonic doesn't run because he's a coward, he runs to give people the opportunity for betterment. To fight another day.

So, when Fleetway shows up, Shadow doesn't necessarily feel guilty for his words. No. If anything he feels melancholic. Here is this shining beacon of goodness in the world that could never be tarnished dipped in poisoned gold. Shadow would be cruel. He would insult Sonic till his last breath because how dare Sonic let himself get to this state! How dare Sonic let himself become a shadow of his former self? The moment Fleetway tells Shadow his words put him down this path, Shadow would be angry beyond measure. Because now he knows this isn't Sonic. Sonic would never let something as trivial as all that get to him this badly... r-right?

Right?

In summary, Espio feels guilty but uses those feelings to try to relate to how Sonic feels. Shadow gets angry because he could have never imagined Sonic dipping his toes into the same darkness he deals with everyday.

I hope that was what you were looking for, Fazar!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: August 16/24

Happy Friday Everyone!! Check out these fics to start off your weekend!!! Hope you enjoy!!!

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[honeybunniii333]

Was asked for Bedwarry angst by a friend! And I realized I've never written for them, so :P

Sorry it took literally 2 months. My lore has gotten so crazy lately.)

TW: FOR MENTIONED PET DEATH! (It's not in detail by any means. But the story is centered around Barry losing an animal. So if that's sensitive for you, I'd recommend not reading any further.)

"Blue?.." Ed's voice called out from the sliding glass door. It was soft, gentle... like he was afraid Barry would shatter if he spoke any louder. He wasn't sure why his first insinct upon finding Lily had been to call Ed... and not bury her. Maybe because he knew he couldn't do it by himself?... or at all. Ed had buried Mavis, and Emmie and Figaro... and clover, after all. Barry had simply stood there and watched him do it. He didn't even have it in him to bury them. Another way he failed those poor babies.

Ed had found his way to where Barry was hiding. Tucked against a tree staring into the window of the little house he kept the animals in. It was a shed he's fixed up, with a little fenced-in area to play outside in... painted bright colors that right now felt mocking. Ed's face was downcast, eyes somber and eyebrows furrowed with sorrow. He knelt down beside him and reached out to brush hair out of the other boys face. "Hey.. look at me...please?"

It took more effort than it should have to force his eyes up to meet those of his best friend. "There we go." Ed forced a smile, but it was twinged with a sadness they'd both grown pretty used to. That was the downside of this... the loss it came with.

"I'm sorry..." he managed to choke out, leaning forward to rest his head on the taller teens' shoulder. Edward was quick to wrap his arms around him. "And why in the world are ya sorry?" He whispered, rubbing his thumb over the stitching at the hem of his best friends shirt. Always fidgeting with something, it almost made Barry laugh... almost. "For making you do this every time... I know you hate it just as much as I do, and I sti-"

"That's my job, man." He laughed, pushing the shorter boy back a bit so that he could look over his friend, who was now looking very puzzled. Though that was nothing new, Edward Quinton was an enigma, and Barry was positive regardless of the length of their friendship. Edward was never EVER going to stop confusing him. "What do you mean your job?"

"I'm your best friend Barry, I do what you can't do for yourself." And maybe Barry preferred it that way... after all, what was Eddie if not confusing? "You're such a dork.."

"Hey, that says more about you than it does me! You're the one who keeps me around Bluebell." He huffed, shoving the other back with much less force than he normally would and getting quickly to his feet. "Now, where's the shovel at? Let's get this done so we can have a nice memorial and go watch a movie."

"Garage." And off Ed was, grabbing the shovel from the garage and beginning a task he'd grown somewhat used to over the years. Adding another tiny grave to the little cemetery. It wasn't a large cemetery, and Barry prided himself on that. He was able to patch up and nurse most animals back to health. The majority of the pets buried there had simply passed of old age or terminal illness... but a few of them hadn't, and that fact would never bother him. But Ed was there, and Ed always made things a little easier. Picking up the slack and helping with the heaviness of it all. Before he even knew it, they were both standing in front of a tiny little grave. Ed wrapped his arm around him, and they both gave their best wishes to little Lily before once again, making the somber walk back up to the back door and on inside.

Barry could still recall first meeting Ed. It was hard to forget, of course. Considering it had changed his whole life. Barry had always been alone, his parents were always gone, his older brother ignored him the majority of the time, and he wasn't very good at making friends. And he had been content with that, and then he'd been smacked upside the head with a soccer ball, and after that, he'd never been alone again. 2 years old onward, they'd been attached at the hip. And here they were 16 years and counting still spending most weekends like this. Huddled up together on Barry's couch, binging old horror movies with graphics that looked more like a highschoolers experimental art piece than certified animation. And maybe Barry preferred it that way,

[esperfruit]

Have some more diesels ^^

Philippe "Philip" Altoona

Age: 15

Height: 154 cm

A young boy with a big personality who recently moved to Sodor from Italy. When he became part of Thomas' class he immediately wanted to make a good impression on everyone, eagerly approaching everyone and offering his friendship, not realizing he was being overbearing. He tried the same with the adults later on, ending up annoying one half and getting the other half to be entertained by his enthusiasm.

Philip is very proud of himself and full of confidence but he can also be unattentive and oblivious to his own limitations, getting himself into trouble with the adults on numerous occasions. He was overjoyed when he became friends with Thomas, Percy and Rosie, making this group a quartett. Philip may not fully understand Thomas' goal with the Golden Whistle and all the mysteries surrounding it but he doesn't mind as long as he has a chance for adventure and making more friends.

Den Sentinel

Age: 34

Height: 191 cm

Dart Bagnall

Age: 34

Height: 167 cm

A dou that has known each other as long as they can think back. They have been the best of friends for their entire lives, attending the same schools and university, they are always seen together. Den and Dart know the other so well, they even know exactly what the other thinks, which is very helpful because Den often struggles finding the right words when he wants to say something and Dart can just tell it everyone in a clearer way.

Both have severe seperation anxiety, which showed when they had to split up during work once. Den gets very insecure and makes more mistakes while Dart gets unfocused and slows down at work. Things only started to improve when Toby took sympathy on Den and mentored him while Mavis calmed down Dart and told him the sooner he finishes his work the sooner he can see Den again. They were able to finish their respective jobs without issue but they know they still work the best as a team.

Sidney Horwich

Age: 21

Height: 182 cm

Sidney just recently finished secondary school and entered the work life alongside his closest friends Paxton Doncaster and Norman Bulleid. He is very helpful, kind and accomodating but just as naive and guillable as Paxton and he always had many problems with academics, shocking everyone, even his own parents, that he was even able to graduate. His academic struggles were so prominent for many reasons, one of them is his forgetfulness. He constanly forgot homework and assignments, taking a toll on his grades in process.

Sidney had always been forgetful but his memory loss did become much worse after he was trapped in a bulding that was lit on fire by Diesel 10. He survived the fire but suffered burns and smoke poisioning from it. When he woke up at the hospital, he couldn't remember any of the events, including the physical abuse D10 but him through when he was his hostage to make Paxton, Norman, Den and Dart follow his orders. However, the emotional damage caused by the events didn't vanish as he has been prone to panic attacks ever since then.

Despite everything that happened to him, Sidney goes through life with an optimistic view, tries to be the best person he can be and looks for ways to deal with his forgetfulness like making up little songs to keep himself reminded of his jobs or pinning his room full with notes.

[lavenderhhaze]

野生の花 - WILDFLOWER

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader, minho x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

about: where before Minho, it had been Hyunjin — your inconsolable, melancholic, kill-myself sort of best friend. And it could have been love, in another time, another place.

warnings: toxic and manipulative friendships, implications to self harm, underage alcohol consumption, smoking, buildings on fire, mention of blood and injuries, suicidal tendencies, implications to cheating and sex, hickeys, fistfights and swearing, generally flawed characters

written as an entry for @skzwritingcafe's May/June event: blossoming love

Hyunjin likes to pretend he met you in college, burrying the shattered history of all those intricate losses carefully and neatly under his chest. He likes to pretend he isn't aware that you were a wildflower, with a talent of winding yourself around whichever finger is his weakest.

All the days of you and him only become hues pulsing in his chest, a memory too distant to remember. That summer he spent with you, when you had kissed him at fifteen, all a sweet game of pretend — a soft mauve. That evening you had spent, your arm twisted with his, both reluctant and unwilling to let go — a muted gold. And after all, everyday you have spent with him since, where he's yours, wholly and truly, although he'll never admit — a withering peach.

A fortnight ago, when air blew through autumn's teeth, ending the summer that had lasted all of six weeks, you had pointed at the fading sunset.

"Do you remember?" you had said, "Last year? The last day of summer?"

But Hyunjin didn't want to remember. Although he did; the last day of summer you had spent with him at the backroom of Ian's, cracking open warm beer cans and pretending to be regular highschool kids.

He was sick of remembering, he had said. To him, memory was punishment. You had winced, recoiling within yourself, almost ashamed.

And so he had reached across, long fingers easily finding yours, tangling and untangling in an undecided rhythm — that he would choose, always forever. He pulls them closer, his face finding home between your hands, kissing your wrist in spots he had memorized. Although seeming carefree, it's a game he played intently, purposefully.

Eyes on you, so brown and bold — tiger eyes, you had called them, aptly so. Unloved and free.

"What about Felix? He's waiting for you."

How voice is concerned, far from genuine, you know. Although in the way he looks at you, eyebrows drawn together, amber flickering amongst the brown, asking you to cave.

"I should go."

And only then, his grip would tighten; loose enough for you to pull away but just enough for you to know. He only stares, giving everything away but a word. I will get drunk and kiss strangers and dance all night with my friends. I'll cry for you on the kitchen floor but I won't ask you to stay.

And you cave. Again. As you have done all your life.

It has been so since fifteen. Shared earphones and holding hands, naps with his head on your shoulder — fresh coffee on his breath — in the school bus, the glass from the window so cold under your cheek and the occassional splatter of raindrops against your ear. The August air, fresh and ripe, eating you both alive from the inside, with noone noticing.

Hyunjin all but breaks into a smile, scrunched up eyes, wrinkles of happiness — the sort of smile you hoped would stick around forever. Your best friend, your only friend.

That evening is one of many, leaning back and exhaling smoke when his fingers run up and down your scalp, making up the prettiest braids you have seen.

It is hard to tell what you both have, you haven't figured it out yet, despite the last six years of the same ups and downs you shared.

It's hard to tell because of the album he keeps of you, winters and summers and springs, birthdays spent wishing on burning candles and frosting swiped on your cheeks, you folding laundry in a tshirt two sizes too big — his tshirt. You — April's wind in your hair, in the balcony with the sun against your skin, hands sticky with lemonade.

When you say you miss summer; you mean you miss summer, three years ago.

It's hard to tell because he'd kiss your cheeks, your hair, your eyes; smelling of peaches and dewy mornings. Shuffling of footsteps and slamming of doors, he'd drive you fucking wild but not ask you to stay.

Because right then, when you're falling on love again, he'd be gone. With her, flaunting his Cheshire cat smile, tiger eyes glinting with intent — that she caught on to, easy. His smell still lingers, only on her this time. Permanence marked neatly with the heart shaped bruises on her neck.

And Felix had arrived — all apologetic for a mistake you made, patting your head and murmering sweet nothings although he didn't understand.

Where is Hyun? He tests the waters, uncomfortable with the air, so thick and humid.

Gone to smoke, you lie through clenched teeth, hoping if the words were smaller, reality would be too.

And yet you know, if he had gone to smoke, you would be there too. Outside — where it was warm and blue, and still April. Smoke of one cigarette shared with the parts of him that will always remain untamable, messy and reckless. And you'd love him, regardless.

When Hyunjin would return, hours later; you never ask, because you already know.

"So, Felix huh?" he says the name like sandpaper on his tongue, anger unraveling right in front of you; jealousy and anger — both terrible for him. "It's like he's in love with you, or something."

"In love?" You taste the words, rich and sweet, not sounding like the terrible terrible thing Hyunjin made it seem.

"In fucking love."

"When you say it like that, it makes it seem so small."

Hyunjin's face is lit up by a stop sign, bathed in a crimson red — screaming at you to stop and you only wish you could. His fingers entangled neatly with yours, he all but smiles at you, eyes reduced to amber cresents.

You let him guide you to the same old rooftop, a narrow stairway to a wooden deck, underneath two sturdy laundry poles.

The same old rooftop where you had spent an evening smoking and watching an empty building burn, at fifteen — March 3rd, a grim and groggy afternoon.

Huge clouds and awful black smoke following the breeze towards the high street. The sound of sirens and the smell of burning — you were so sure the fire would never touch you.

You had stared at the two fire engines working on the flames and workers pushing back the usual crowd of gawkers. Everyone loved a tragedy, especially so when they knew the end to be appalling.

And you had only leaned back, against the lazy thrum of Hyunjin's heartbeat, his arm winding around your shoulders as he hummed a shifting tune.

"We can get away from there," you had glanced at the narrow lane running along the two story building, just enough for one person to squeeze through. "If the fire gets too close."

"I'm not running away."

"Even if this place burns?"

"You heard me," he had looked at you, brown eyes — rich and deep, "I don't mine dying."

It was thrown away so easily, as if you had always known : your inconsolable, melancholic, kill-myself sort of best friend; ready to end his life in a flash fire.

"Okay," you shrugged, settling back comfortably in his chest. "I'll stay with you."

Dusty cobwebs hang from the laundry rods like heartstring decors, and Hyunjin was vibrant, love dripping from his eyes — just the way he looked at you. Then he had looked down to his feet and turned away to hide in his lie.

"You'll die with me?"

"No way," you had said, smile already reaching your eyes. "I'm getting right the fuck away if the fire gets too close. You can die alone if you want to."

"Cold hearted bastard."

And he had laughed, shoving you away — so full and complete. Another one of the photographs he keeps preserved in the album.

The rest of the evening spent admiring the fire that flared up and died down several times. Glass had shattered twice and the crowd only grew, morphing into awkward shapes when the policeman had screamed at the bystanders to move back. A column of smoke spiralled upwards into the sky, withering at the edges like smudged charcoal.

"Tired, Sunshine?" he had asked, gazing blankly as the fire engines returned to their base, thier red lights spinning ghastly shadows.

"Not really," you had shrugged, catching him looking at you again.

Tired eyes, star-map skin, veins making pretty patterns underneath his porcelain skin. The way he had glanced at you — in a daze, in a dream; the early summer sun casting the shadow of his lashes on his cheeks.

And if it wasn't for that burning building, Hyunjin wouldn't have kissed you that evening. It was soft and gentle, contained within itself with no further intent. Glittering rooftops and flickering flames, smelling of cheap cigarettes and firecrackers.

It was meant to preserve the feel, the scent of burning wood with his hand on her neck and your fingertips sliding up his chest. Only then, you had dared to think — something that might have been love. He was taking up your whole world; all you could see, all you could feel.

And he had been the first to pull away. A mistake, Sunshine. Not again. And you had cried, tears setting in the creases from smiling at your knack for misfortune. He had wiped them away, index finger slotting under your chin and thumbs on your cheeks; accompanied by the unending chant of I love you, I love you. Although he liked to hide it behind his possessiveness and cowardice.

When you were younger, everything seemed so permanent, but as you get older, it drifts away.

It wasn't love, you think. But it wasn't nothing either.

Stolen glances at the schoolbus, visiting his parents' bookstore just to get a glimpse of him, laughing so grandly at his ridiculous jokes, feeling giddy when you're knees touch and pausing before you breathe his name, enjoying the way yours sounds, rolling off of his tongue.

It wasn't love, you decide. It could have been, if you had let it go that far. In another time, another place, it could have been love.

Now, he sits right across from you, peeling a clementine, breaking it into near halves and handing one to you, wordless. You can still see the bruises on his neck, one right below his earlobe — almost a heart, not quite dissapearing, not yet.

"So," he drawls, fingers winding around your elbow to pull you closer, "What about Felix?"

"It's nothing," you say, honestly, although you wish it wasn't true. Jealousy looks good on Hyunjin, albiet eating away at him from the inside. "And that girl? What about her?"

You can feel him smile, almost teasing; he repeats, "It's nothing."

You know it's a lie. Disgustingly sweet. Apple blossoms and pink lemonades. Heart shaped bruises and his scent — the smell of summer. And you laugh.

"What?" He draws closer, his smile only growing, the corners of his lips turned up— stealing your breath and handing it back to you with open palms. "You don't believe me?"

"I don't."

And he's flowers in your stomach, cutting you open and blooming through your ribs. And you decide, love isn't gentle. With Hyunjin, love is gritty and possesive. Love has teeth, biting away at the wounds that do not heal.

"Smart girl."

He doesn't stop you. He doesn't as you to stay. But you do so regardless — because he gives you everything you want. Holding his hands, wearing his sweaters, his head on your shoulder, windows flung wide open when he kisses underneath your ear. And just as easily — he takes it all away.

"I'll be out tonight, Sunshine."

His eyes are a challenge, dirt-brown and cold — gleaming like the slightly damp tiles of a club's bathroom. You have seen this scene before, with a terrible terrible ending.

With her again? Lips stained a lollipop red, a testing quirk asking you to say it.

Ask me to stay and I will. I'll drop the fucking world, and I'll stay.

You swallow the protests that rise up your throat, deep breaths and shallow exhales.

"Have fun."

You shrug, and he fades away. You stare at the sun for too long and it blinds you. Yet you're hypnotised by the light — by his light, terrified to look away, surrounded by pitch-black again.

Even past one, the rain all but a faint drizzle on the cold glass window — you think of him again. The sky a diluted cream, no moon, no stars.

At 3:30, the rain seizes. The door clicks open and the sink runs, punctuated by heavy footsteps.

You see Hyunjin again, and he looks a lot like heartbreak. A little bit unravelled, ivory hair in wisps, yesterday's white shirt in wrinkles, fingertips kissed red in his own blood. His expression is wistful and his eyes warm.

He hears the rustle of the bedsheets to find you sitting up in your single bed — alarmed. Open windows and fluttering curtains, you against the starless night through curtains of thin white lace.

"Sunshine, you awake?"

"Did you walk yourself to a fucking wall, Hyunjin?"

He laughs, a little bit broken in its rhythm but his laugh nonetheless. There is more blood — a smudge of crimson against his bottom lip, a purple vein prominent against the thin skin of his forehead, his skin cracking open under his eye. All bronze and bite. Venom and fistfight.

He sits on the marble counter, back against the cold white tiles. The white lights too bright, but you refused to turn them off. You're scared of the dark. You're scared of who you are in the dark.

The small bathroom of your shared apartment smells a lot like self-hate. Self-hate, old blood and antiseptic — the smell stinging the tip of your tongue.

Hyunjin hisses as the you dab at the cut under his bottom lip.

"Easy there, Sunshine. It stings."

You ignore his protest, hands travelling upwards to clean the cut under his eye. His skin is ash and honey, eyes glazed over as they study you, hands on your hips to keep you steady. His rain-damp hair pressed against the skin of his neck and his silver earings glinting in the excess light.

He's a constellation — with one star missing.

He extends a hand, an invitation, a demand; only to brush away the hair that falls on your face. And you let him because you miss him, although he sits right in front of you — bright eyed and rough edged.

"What are you thinking so hard about?"

You and him — this endless loop. His hand on your waist, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. The curve of his neck. The stretch of his spine. You and him — a couple of sinners making fun of hell.

"Why do you call me Sunshine?"

He smiles again, eyes reduced to honey -coloured cresents — blurry like the edges of his favourite photograph. He smells of a strange cologne, something older, as his hands wind tight around your waist, drawing you closer. His touch is burning, hands slow and patient.

"Because you love summers."

Because, Sunshine, you are my summer. But you hear the words die in his throat — his gaze still just as fond, laughter spilling from bleeding lips mid sentence.

That night, he sleeps in your bed, talking of every summer you had counted with him. It was Felix's brother — Minho. He punched me in the face because I called him a two-faced cunt. You feel him shift, tangling the sheets even further. I didn't lie, did I?

The wind shifts back and forth, constructing and expanding; and it hurts to breathe. You're scared to swallow your words, afraid of the damage but you know you can't stand still.

"I liked him, Hyun."

Your voice breaks. And you think of the line he drew in the sand you just can't get past. Stupid fucking boy that sucked the fucking life out of you. And you let him.

You hear a weighted exhale. Silence falling off of his tongue and settling between you both. His arm around your midriff as the night swallows you whole. And the diffused light glances off of his shoulders — he's staring right at you. You would have called him an angel; you would have, in another place, another time.

Are we still just friends if it's your breath and mine, late at night with our fingers laced under our covers?

Hyunjin was missing again, and you laugh at how you're obsessed with the smallest things — the feeling of his lips against your cheek when he had kissed you goodnight, you lost in pretend sleep. I'll be back, Sunshine. You sleep coiled around yourself, tightly wound. Hands in fists under your pillows, salt tears drying on your cotton bedsheets.

You think the sun has set for the tenth time that week, days spent avoiding your gaze in the mirror. And was it June? The days growing smaller until the sun could fit in the palm of your hand, like the world has stopped spinning and you're only glad. Summer is your permanent, raging on and on.

Until it rains, mid-June, with no sign of Hyunjin. All you recieve is one text, I'm all good, sweetheart. I'll be right with you. Soon. Take good care. One you don't have the heart to reply to, only laughing at how rushed he makes it seem. Soon. I'll be right with you.

And that's all you remember from June — rain. And him. Slender fingers wrapped around his order of coffee, other hand slipping his reciept in the front pocket of his light wash jeans, silver rings glinting under the little light they can catch. That day when you had talked yourself into wandering off to the campus café, too miserable to mope in your now lonely apartment.

When he had slipped into the seat opposite yours, catching you grumbling about how romantic love hadn't died after all. He had followed your line of sight — couples and couples, stolen glances, shared jackets, fingers interlaced across tables and shared laughter.

"Not quite the romantic, I see," he had laughed, slender fingers rising to cover his mouth and his rings catch your eyes again.

"You can't blame me."

The rain is a constant, beating down at the big glass windows adjacent your shared booth, the sound oddly comforting.

"Minho," he smiles again, looking up from his coffee, so formal that you're afraid he'll extend a hand for you to shake. Ivory hair cropped neatly under his ears, front pieces long and damp, falling on his eyes. Something about him is softer and kinder than anyone you have known — missing that sharp edge Hyunjin was all about.

"I know."

And how could you not? All you remember is Hyunjin's bloodied knuckles and smudged lips, the star shaped scar blooming underneath his eye; all under the fluorescent bathroom light. Minho seems almost too gentle to have fists that hard.

"Of course, you do."

He catches the edge of your voice, eyebrows raised. He smells of something older, seasalt and caramel — you decide. The type to have his coffee with creamer and foam, unlike Hyunjin, an expresso enthusiast and nothing else.

It's still pouring — the trees growing greener before your eyes. And you're worried you have no excuse to be miserable anymore.

It is June and you're tired of being brave. You're weary of counting days as if they never end, nights falling short of your only comfort — your best friend. And still, that evening you allow Lee Felix to drag you to his graduation party because you haven't learnt to refuse him yet.

He's all freckles and sunshine, golden blonde hair and vanilla perfume; opening windows and drawing curtains with all intended dramatics — full, cherry lips and silver teeth.

"You'll fucking love it, yeah?"

You nod meekly, in a weak attempt to mirror his enthusiasm — because that's all you can do.

You had been to this apartment twice before — both with Hyunjin, a hand wrapped around your waist, secure. Giggling at his theatrics, lips stained the red of cranberries, when it we was still summer.

You draw the line past four shots, cringing at the bitter taste lingering in your throat that reminds you of your best friend; because with him you had learnt to drink, and drink more; drawing on concrete with pink chalk and beer cans in hand.

"Not quite into drinking either, huh?"

Salt air and caramel. You remember that voice. Smile lines and cat eyes — in a shirt that was a deep shade of green. Ivory hair falling over his eyes, deep-set and black, staring with intent. Minho reminds you a lot of rain.

"It's okay though," he cracks a grin, lowering the solo cup in his hands — a glimpse of plain orange soda. Quite fitting. And gentle. "Just the same."

You smile. For what seems like the first time in months, and you're scared of what happiness feels like. After weeks of numb, numb and numb. Happiness feels a lot like a trashy graduation party, sharing laughter with the one responsible for the bruises on your best friends chest, standing of sticky floors with spilt beer.

"Don't want to get drunk today."

Happiness is odd, surrounded in grey and shrouded in rain; especially when you're lacking the heavy weight of Hyunjin's palm in yours, your purse slung on his shoulder.

"I know."

It's the same sharp tone you had used in the café, sounding harsher with the flush of your cheeks that those four shots gave you. He knows. His smile a little cryptic when he sips on his orange soda, eyes glimmering like fistfuls of confetti. Splintered blue shadows dance on his face.

"You know," his voice is dry, old, experienced. One hand plays with the silver ring on his delicate, orange stained fingers. "You can't make someone love you back my loving them harder."

You know, you want to say. But did you really? All you know is loving someone isn't supposed to leave you with bruised knees and still you wander off, spending an evening with a boy with an orange soda cup — with an idea of what love looks like, and only a suspicion of what it feels like.

He's animated — all hands and fingers, words and laughter, when he raises his brows and widens his eyes to get his point across, " I told him, right? But no, he had to sneak the dogs in. What a fucking asshole. This is why we can't have nice things."

"You have him shit for it?"

"Of course, I gave him shit for it. I'm a cat guy through and through."

Minho lingers like petrichor after rain, and for once you wish the warm night doens't end. When he lifts his head and smiles with a timid offer to walk you home — the brightest goddamn star you have ever seen. And for a moment you almost believe you could start again.

"Sunshine."

Your heart breaks at his voice, the familiarity of it all no less distressing when you walk in to find him curled weakly at the headboard of his cold bed. He's a wilted flower — your best friend in his beautiful, broken magnificence.

You don't answer — choosing to linger at the door; because really, what could you say? I missed you. And then let him rip your heart out again?

Hyunjin looks tired, patient and awaiting — arms open for you to settle in, daring you to refuse. He's the sun, after all; and you his summer. A tattoo peeks at you from the neck of his collared shirt, a butterfly wrapped neatly around his collarbone.

He catches you looking, raising his hand to thumb at the still unhealed skin with splinters of red, "It's meant to symbolise rebirth, I guess. Kinda fitting, don't you think?"

Rebirth. New beginnings. New love. Because he chose to leave? You want to scream — maybe burning is better than drifting apart.

He's wide awake when you take a seat next to him — bigger and louder than he has ever been. He reminds you a lot of the boy you fell in love with at fifteen.

At fifteen, smiling at porcelain faces only for them to not smile back at you — exept for one. And you were in love. The moonlight sliding off of him and collecting in his arms. His shuddering underneath your fingertips as you had traced his cuts with antiseptic.

A gash running down his neck, a bruise on his collarbone and another where his jaw met his near. And you're only thankful it wasn't bruised ribs this time.

"Doesn't it hurt?" you had whispered, his face still in your hands — he's bleeding sunlight and you're trying to patch up the cuts, "When he treats you like that?"

The neon light had flickered and momentarily, it was just Hyunjin and the moonlight — an angel. He only stared at you and you were afraid you'd cry. You read his words though, spilling from honey-coloured eyes: it's okay, Sunshine, it's not as if I love him anyways.

Thankyou, he had said. His voice too soft to be a teenager's — but again, he had never been as young as you.

He's now twenty, staring at you with the yellow light from the table lamp hitting his jaw just right. He looks like a child again, small and vulnerable — like he's just crawled into his parent's bed after a nightmare, exept he has never known comfort like that.

It's still summer for him, the balcony door slightly ajar. It's summer for as long as he can pretend.

"I got something for you."

An instant coffee jar with airholes on the lid, a few blades of grass and some water and a firefly — competing with the yellow lights with only a feverish glow.

You hadn't seen a firefly in years, and the ones from your memory were far more brighter, brilliant. For you, fireflies were the sickly sweet smell of summer nights, forest spirits, salt air and youth. Stretching in the sun and enjoying the little life offered you with open hands until it grew too loud — swarming and seething, showing you it's teeth.

"It's a firefly," he announces, a little hesitant, a little proud. And it reflects off of his eyes like two tiny chips of gold.

"You visited home?"

Home sounds sour on your tongue, too alien. Just swirls of dust from the street because your hometown was no home — and he notices too.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because it's lonely."

And you know the sort of loneliness he means. The longing of walking aimlessly busy street in the evening, watching the city lights glow from the window — a thousand lives walk right past you and life is really to big to be enjoyed. And it is lonely, it always has been.

"Did you meet anyone?"

He huffs a short breath, close enough to be a laugh, "Saw Chan once, apparently he's getting engaged."

"Really?"

It's bittersweet — watching the people you once loved leave to have a life outside of you. The teenaged Chan, all poised and responsible, overworked to the point of hysteria but not quite and the older Chan — wiser, gentler, softer. You've never gotten rid of him despite three years of no contact. You can grow apart but never break apart. And you're scared it'll be the same for Hyunjin.

"I feel like I'm wasting my time, you know?"

"On what?" He asks, innocent and unblinking, hands clasped between his knees and chin lifted towards the yellow light. The firefly slides down the glass walls.

On you. On us. The words catch in your throat, holding his gaze is if it's a stranger's. And he catches on, because he always did.

"You know I love you right?"

You nod. But really, did you? It's raining, but it's just ache in your ear. A white noise.

He sighs — a deep exhale, a hand reaching for you to pull you close. As if all you both do isn't just messing around and pretending to be whole. The light slides off of his shoulders and he grips your hands, that's what he's always done — setting himself on fire so he can burn the brightest.

"I love you as far as love goes," you inhale, waiting for the catch in his words, hands held tight. "But, Sunshine, some people aren't meant to be together."

Because he's all youth — travelling and moving and flowing. You don't want to be the dark sky for him to be the star.

"You deserve more than that."

He smiles at your silence, hands drawing you even closer, "Maybe in another universe I'd ask you to run away with me."

And you smile too, but it's bitter — because you know, even in another universe, your answer would be yes.

And you're afraid he'll cry for the first time, hiding his face in your shoulder. You cannot bear it because this time it's sadness shared. Your hands run a familiar path up and down his spine.

"You know?" he breathes, drawing back and clearing his throat. His hair is messy, a passing breeze on a still summer day, a little bit unravelled. "I saw you and Minho."

"You did?"

"Yeah," he smiles at you as if it's the beginning of the world, hands holding your face — warm and soft. "I'm so fucking happy for you."

It's June and you're four shots past where you should have stopped. You're lying on the floor, curled up on the edge of you're bed. It's raining against the window, hard. Hyunjin has been missing since the second shot. But Minho is there, drawing circles on your temples because he doesn't drink.

You hold his hand, fingers threading into his. And he smiles — like you're his whole fucking world.

"You're a guy, right?"

He chuckles, still stroking your hair, his silver rings cold to your temple, "I think so."

"Do guys feel sad?"

His hands still and his smile cuts itself in half because he thinks you know. His arms are around you and the air is too thin to breathe. You don't know about the skeletons that would occasionally slip out of his closet to show themselves in the mirror. Or the thin blade in the back of his wallet he had fished out from his father's pencil sharpener at fifteen. Not yet. You don't.

And still, you're there for him when he exhales a shaky breath, offering shelter for as long as he needs it.

Minho shrugs, his smile returning but not quite. His head is heavy next to yours.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Like an absent father, Hyunjin had never quite been there. Stealing himself from you and returning half-starved. And you kept mothering dying things.

But now, he's here. He's there, although drunk off of his mind, when Minho jokes about asking to marry you at the local McDonald's at midnight — waiting for the lights and cola to sober you and Hyunjin up before you'd cross the road to return home.

He's there, enthusiastic and giddy, clapping hands and deciding roles. He'd be the priest and Felix the flowergirl.

He's there — walking home drunk and giddy to get a suit although Minho only wore a sweater and jeans, sliding a ring pop on your finger and kissing your drunken champagne lips.

He's there, laughing and cheering and drinking even more. Hugging you tight under the neon lights of the McDonald's diner.

"I'll be the godfather," he says. I'm so proud of where you are, you hear.

June ends with the wedding and July starts white — an endless field with white daisies. The first weekend is for Minho and you, climbing up the stairs to his apartment's roof, ducking under laundry poles to stare at the full, white moon.

He's radiant, the moonlight catching on his shoulder. His dark eyes are caught on you and you know what they look like when he's in love. He's warm and familiar, solid and safe.

Car headlights flow in the endless traffic underneath — the traffic thick with the scent of petrol strong enough to taste. This time you know what love feels like. Walking home with a fever of happiness each evening, his name in your mouth.

The firefly jar is heavy in your hands, the firefly bumps against the glass walls, it's dim light flickering. You twist open the jar and tilt it, Minho's hand a welcome weight on your back as you see the firefly climb the edge of the jar.

It walks a few steps, crouching on the lid, unmoving. The wind sweeps past, almost taking the firefly along with it, it's paper thin wings struggling against it.

"It's not moving," you whisper.

"Give it some time, sweetheart."

You wait for ever. The wind rustles in your ear and the firefly makes no move to fly.

Much later, does it take to the air. It's light diming and brightening in a rhythm as it flies past the laundry poles, and traces a swift arc towards the building. It's light lingers for a few seconds only to be scattered by the wind, dissapearing into the slow moving traffic.

You watch Minho as he reaches for the lingering light, smiling when he grasps nothing.

"Tell me a secret."

He pauses, his lips quirking with intrigue, "What kind of secret?"

"Any kind."

"I don't have a secret."

"You're lying, everyone has secrets."

His eyes wander as he pretends to think, and he's golden under the moonlight with the wind running it's fingers through his hair. Silver rings glinting at you as he taps his chin childishly.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

It's drizzling, raindrops running down his temples — the slant of his brow and the curve of his neck. You remember his shaking hands in you're when he had hugged you for the first time.

"Spiders."

You laugh, without it sounding hollow on the inside, watching as his lips curve into a smile. The night no longer feels like splinters on your skin.

"You're joking."

"No, really. It's the legs, I think. Or the eyes."

"Tell me another one, then."

He leans over, studying you with a smile like rose and satin. The drizzle lingers, dampening the wave of his hair, his eyes brimming with possibility. You know what happiness feels like — finding every lost bone and fitting it in place.

"I love you."

A/N: took like two months to write — it's a sweetheart of mine. so much murakami inspiration. please leave comments bc i really wanna know what you think.

[soraya-snape]

Why do people keep saying Snape should be over Lily by now?

I really don't get it. Especially when I think about myself. I lost two of my grandparents when I was 8/10 and even though I'm already in my 20s I'm still not over this loss and I don't think I will ever. Their deaths also does impact my life in some ways like (trying not to get too personal, but) it has negatively impacted my relationship with death, I can't talk about them because I don't know how to handle this grieve... There are nights when I just start crying because I miss them so much, even now writing this already makes me tear up.

Some people might now say “This is different, they were your family, and you were only a child.” but even though I would agree to some extent it's probably not in the way they mean it.

Let me explain with one of my two examples: My grandpa (who died when I was 10) and I were pretty close. From what I remember and have been told he was wonderful with us kids or like my mother once put it: when we were at my “other grandfathers” house we still usually hung around our parents but when we were at my grandpas house we literally forgot that our parents existed. Even though I don't have many memories of him left, I simply remember feeling happy when he was around.

But still, I think this relationship was less important to me than Sev's relationship to Lily was to him. You have to remember that he came from an abusive and neglectful home and probably didn't have any (real) friends before meeting Lily and also later in life. I on the other hand had a pretty loving family, and even the not so good relationships (like with my other grandfather) were still better than Sev's relationship with his father and probably mother too.

So of course it's different.

On the one side you have me, whose relationship with her grandfather is one of many loving ones (yes, it might be the strongest, but that doesn't really change anything).

On the other side you have this boy who has never really received/felt love before, and now he meets this girl, and she makes him feel love(d). I'm not going to argue about what kind of love either of them felt for the other, but I'm pretty sure Sev never gave or got more love to/from anyone ever.

And while loosing my grandparents at such a young age was definitely bad, I could imagine that losing them later in life would be just as bad, maybe even worse. Because having more time with them would obviously be amazing, but at the same time could also make loosing them even worse. So the age difference between me and Sev really doesn't make that much of a difference also considering Snily had a similar amount of time together before their “breakup”.

And this leads me to another difference between Sev and me. Two, actually.

First his friendship with Lilx ended and really not on good terms. Even though I think both are partly at fault here it was Sev calling her a mudblood that ultimately ended it. And he tried to apologize, but Lily didn't accept it. And no matter how you feel about her decision, I think if she had accepted, even if they still hadn't become (good) friends again, it would have made it easier for Sev. I think it would give him some peace of mind and the feeling of her still loving him to some extent.

While the last year of my grandpa's life was let's say complicated, and I didn't meet him as often as usual (a bit similar to Snily) I wouldn't say our relationship was strained especially when you compare it to Snily (I don't want to go into more detail and I also don't remember much of this time).

And the other difference is that Sev is at least partly at fault for Lily's death. Which obviously makes it harder for him to move on, even more so after they ended on a bad note.

I wasn't at fault for my grandpas death and also couldn't have saved him (funny thing is now I have knowledge that maybe could). Yes, the complicated situation of his last year might make his loss a bit harder, but not much.

To conclude, I totally do not understand why people don't understand why Sev can't get over Lily (and her death). Not only was she the only light in his life, the only thing that was ever good about his life, but it was also his fault that first he lost her and later she died.

[s-b-party]

Home is There and Here With You

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59810080

Includes: Light angst, Mild hurt/comfort, Memory loss, Friendship, Platonic relationships

Yuu has a moment of self-reflection of sorts after contemplating about the overblot incidents, leading to homesickness and fear of losing memories. Cue Grim trying his best to comfort them.

When all was said and done, Yuu was glad that the guys made it out of their overblotted states. Were they wrong? Yeah but it was also hard not to feel bad for them. Of course Yuu had found the same routine of needing to stop somebody's overblot annoying to do, but at the end of it, they were glad to see things get resolved. Glad...but also sad.

It was hard to admit after seeing all the times the guys had others look after them when the blot had dissipated. There were always people there to bring them back home.

The red tyrant...

The lion...

The sea witch...

The cobra...

The fair queen...

The watchman...

The dragon...

They all had people fighting to bring them out of their manic states. Were they all good friends? Not exactly, but they definitely had special bonds that the Prefect could see even if nobody else could. While some were very close, others were closer than strangers but perhaps a bit too distant to be called "friends".

All Yuu could think about was their old world and the people that were left behind. Sure, they made many friends here along the way and they have been here for quite some time, but they couldn't stay in Twisted Wonderland forever. It's not as if they chose to leave their old family & friends behind in the first place. Homesickness had reared its ugly head when they thought about their loved ones both here and back there.

The smiles on their parents' faces, warm hands hugging them, their friends' cheers at their competitions...

"Myahaha! What's wrong, my henchman? Surely the great Grim can solve your problem! Is your stomach hurting?" The direbeast sauntered his way to Yuu who was currently curled up on the sofa in a blanket while lost in thought. One short breath in and one long breath out, maybe it was time to stop keeping it in...

"I-I'm scared, Grim. I know Crowley said he'd find a way...but what if there's no way home for me? I was dragged here by the Dark Mirror even though I have no magic. I...I'm so scared, Grim. I'm starting to forget things. I don't know if the overblot incidents got to me and jumbled up some of my memories. It's just- I can't stop this fear of forgetting my old life. There's probably something that can fix my foggy memories of my old life, but even if I do find a way home, what'll happen to my memories of you and everybody else here? Will you all disappear...just like a dream? I already lost my family and friends once, I don't want to go through that again when I go home."

Lips trembling and eyes watering, Yuu laid bare their worries which gnawed at their soul for quite some time now.

".......I'm sorry, Yuu."

Grim initially was laying down on the sofa next to them. He then rose up from his position to squeeze himself into their arms underneath the comfy blanket. He gave off strong purrs which provided much comfort to them.

"I don't know much about traveling worlds a-and I'll be real sad to see you go home but...MRAHHHH I DON'T WANNA BE SAD AND SAPPY!!!!"

Yuu couldn't help but chuckle at his outburst. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd want to be sappy ever."

"I don't know how much help I'll be when it comes to sending you back- n-not that I'm saying that I'm not powerful, that's not it! Hmmmm...if it makes you feel better, the idiots and I'll be by your side while you're still here!"

"Thank you, Grim. That does mean a lot to me."

A comfortable silence fell upon Ramshackle Dorm that night and Yuu was able to sleep well with Grim nearby. Being both exhausted in mind and soul, Yuu was rest assured with the promise of another tomorrow in Twisted Wonderland.

They say that home is not a place but the people whom you love.

If only words were enough to tell you how much I wish I could return to you.

I see you in the twinkling stars of another world, in the clear river bank that trickles alongside the passing seasons,

in the breeze that carries voices that I can almost hear, in the rays of sunlight that caress my cheeks with warmth,

in the magic of this world, if only all of this could convey how badly I miss you.

If fate were kind, my two worlds would meet together not unlike a gentle kiss, if only life could be fair...

Whether I'm here or back there, I'll always be thinking of home.

****This is my first fanfic ever and it was really fun for me to write even though I was still emotional over Book 7 (still am ngl) 😂 hope y'all enjoy it :3

[harryissuchalittleshit]

Do you think Molly ever grows to like any of her duaghters-in-law?

Yes!

Fleur

After the war, everyone is grieving for their losses

Molly especially is hurting from losing Fred, it’s bringing up memories of her younger brothers, who she never took the time to fully grieve for

Percy is back home after leaving the Ministry, Charlie is home for the summer, Ginny is home before her finally year of school, Harry is staying with them as he’s part of the family (and none of the Weasleys will allow him to leave), Ron and Hermione are in Australia, and George can barely get out of his childhood bedroom

Bill and Fleur come around often together, but Fleur comes around more on her own

She’s keeping the house functioning while Molly is grieving, doing all the things no one thinks about

Charlie helps her with the chickens and Percy is taking care of the vegetable patch and Harry keeps the gnomes out of the garden

Ginny helps a little in the kitchen, but Fleur/Charlie/Percy are doing most of the cooking

Fleur and Ginny are starting to build a relationship over shared glasses of wine and stories of their childhoods

Charlie and Percy get to actually know their new sister in this time and build a friendship

(Percy and Fleur grow close this summer despite Bill’s annoyance)

At the end of August, around Percy’s birthday, they have a big party, a sort of celebration of the end of the summer and also Percy coming back to the family and the joke shop reopening under Percy’s care, Ron and Hermione coming home, and also Ginny’s seventeenth birthday too

Molly can’t believe that someone put this all together, and she asks Charlie about it as he’s closest to her when she steps out the door

“Fleur thought that we had so much to celebrate that we should throw a party.”

That was when Molly knew that she liked Fleur, she respected her after Greyback attacked Bill and Fleur told her she would still marry him, but she knew that she liked Fleur after this moment

A month later Fleur finds out she’s pregnant, and Molly can’t help but be excited to be a grandmother.

Angelina

Angelina falls back into George’s life about a year after the war.

The summer of ‘99 Lee and Alicia get married (as they’re pregnant but also because they’re original plans got ruined by the war 😅)

George is Best Man and Angelina is the Maid of Honor

They also have been in love since the first moment they saw each other on the train to Hogwarts at 11

Did Molly always know that Angelina was going to be part of the family? No! But did she see the way her son’s eyes lite up every time Angelina walked into a room? Absolutely she did!!

After Lee and Alicia’s wedding, George and Angelina are made Godparents to baby Maria Jordan!

They also just can’t force themselves to be away from each other, both of them are miserable, but at least they have each other

Angelina gets pregnant and George buys her a house

They lose their daughter, but then decide it’s time to do things properly

They get married and right before the ceremony, Molly and Arthur invite her to be part of the family

Molly had taken Angelina in under her wing a little after they lost their daughter Beth, but she doesn’t hide it after this

Angelina lost her own mama when she was eighteen, so having Molly to turn to is a great relief

Angelina is the DIL that Molly is closest too out of all of them

Hermione

Molly had known Hermione since she was a little girl, but Hermione is more anxious knowing Molly as Ron’s girlfriend than Ron and Ginny’s friend

Molly had always liked Hermione, but she thinks that she pushes everyone to hard in her life

Hermione of course just thinks that Ron needs more motivation

After the summer in Australia with Ron, Hermione goes back to Hogwarts and Ron never writes her

They have a bit of a disconnect in their relationship and it hurts both of them so much

They love each other, neither of them can deny it, but there is so much longing and wanting that it’s hard for them to even express it to themselves let alone each other

When Hermione comes back from Hogwarts she moves in with Ron and Harry into their tiny flat and there is a definite shift in the trio’s relationship

They mend it over the summer, and Hermione is working in mending her relationship with her parents too

One night Molly invites over just Ron and Hermione for dinner and asks them what their plans are for their relationship

Ron tells her what he wants out of it, love and marriage and children

Hermione bolts to orchards, she saw their relationship move that way eventually, but hearing it out loud is frightening

Molly follows her and tells her that Ron was always like that

Hermione understands, but it’s scary to think about, she didn’t realize how onboard she needed to be

Molly tells Hermione about her first date with Arthur and how up and down that had been

And suddenly Molly knows that nothing will stop Ron and Hermione from making their way down the aisle in a few years

But she does have doubts of them having four kids, which she ends up being right about

Audrey

Audrey just sort of falls into Percy’s life

He asked her out hoping that she would say yes, mostly being goaded into it by Angelina

Audrey said yes and then proceeded to be 2 hours late to their first date, Percy knew he was going to marry her right then and there

A month into the relationship, Percy bought an engagement ring for Audrey, Molly had just met her the week before

Audrey takes the time to be pleasant to everyone she meets, she takes the time to share what she needs to about herself, but more than anything, she takes the time to listen

Molly saw the change in Percy before really anyone else, and she also saw a change in Audrey too upon their second meeting

Audrey lost her twin brother in the Battle of Hogwarts and her parents were killed by Death Eaters coming after her and her brothers

She and Percy go through so many ups and downs in their relationship, and thirteen months after they meet, they elope

Molly is upset that her son didn’t want her at his wedding, but she knows that Audrey’s parents weren’t there either

She’s also upset to find out they got married because they were pregnant, but she excited to be a grandmother again

(Victoire is her only grandchild, Fleur lost a little boy two years before and Angelina lost Beth almost four years before)

Audrey turns to Molly a lot with questions about her pregnancy, she has no one else really to turn too other than Angelina and Fleur

(Both who she’s still building relationships with)

Molly sees how scared Audrey is and helps her in anyway she can, and when Audrey loses their little boy, Molly makes sure to check up on her that whole winter

That next winter, Audrey gives Molly her first ever Weasley sweater

Bonus - Harry

Molly is the first one to find out that Harry and Ginny are back together

She catches them snogging out in the chicken coop when they were supposed to be helping her out

It’s during their first Christmas after the war, and Molly is barely holding herself together

She has a bit of a go at both of them, and then pulls Harry into her arms later and tells him how happy she is for the pair of them

Harry and Ginny go through some struggles the summer after Ginny leaves Hogwarts, they tried to live together but it just doesn’t work out, Ginny just isn’t ready for it yet

Molly always welcomes Harry back home though when he comes to visit Ginny, even if she doesn’t quite like them both going up to Ginny’s bedroom at night

Harry moves out of the flat he shares with Ron after he starts making enough gold to live on by himself, he moves into his grandparents old cottage in Godric’s Hallow

He drags Ginny along, and they both thrive with the space and lack of space 😉

Harry had proposed the summer before, but they tell the family on Ginny’s birthday

Ginny’s brothers are all impressed, even more so when Ginny tells them that she doesn’t plan on getting married right away

Molly is the first one to know about James Sirius, Ginny tells her the morning of their wedding

Molly keeps it a secret, but she can tell that her daughter and SIL are so excited to be married that nothing will get in their way

Harry is nervous to be a father, but Molly reassures him that he’ll be wonderful at it, Arthur had the same fearful look in his eyes too after Bill was born

Harry thanks her and let’s her hold her first grandson for the first time

[trillscienceofficer]

The thing about Jake/Ezri is that... I get the feeling that most people look at this ship, and I would gladly accept a correction here, as a way for both of them to have some more 'age appropriate' romantic relationships, which both characters egregiously lack in the show. Which don't get me wrong, is not a bad impulse! (sidenote, I actually think this lack is especially glaring for Jake more than it is for Ezri—I don't miss the couple of episodes where he was apparently dating a woman in her 20s as a teen, as others have pointed out that was a storyline that stank of racist assumptions on the lives of Black boys from a mile off)

But I personally find it difficult to see Ezri/Jake as this, idk, cute 'ideal' pairing, and to me it's more interesting to consider any romantic feelings as... something they're very much not supposed to have for each other.

See, I love the idea of Ezri being the first iteration of Dax that Jake can truly see as his equal, and the way they seem to get along immediately in "Shadows and Symbols", how this represents something unprecedented for both of them even if they just met. They see each other as being more similar than different, and worried in similar ways by Benjamin's behavior. I think that's a really interesting foundation for a relationship.

The obvious rub is that Ezri, despite her nominal age, remembers watching Jake growing up practically from the moment he was born, not to mention having known Benjamin since he was an Ensign. That can't not be awkward as hell. And on Jake's side, Benjamin explicitly telling Jake to not 'even think about it' when he says she's cute at the end of "Afterimage".

So what happens when two young people in their early twenties are drawn to each other but there's this whole mountain of history between them that neither has exactly chosen for themselves? What happens after the ending of DS9, when they all believe Benjamin is gone, and what remains is grief, Jake's devotion to (the memory of) his father and Ezri's decades-long friendship with someone who has meant so much to her and her two previous hosts, no matter Ezri's complex thoughts on the topic of her joining? What happens to them both when the other is just the closest thing to the person they've both lost, but said person definitely would have mixed feelings about the two of them getting closer that way?

(I'm always reminded of "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon" here, where honoring the memory of someone they both lost is keeping protagonists Li Mu Bai and Yu Shu Lien apart despite the obvious fondness they have for each other, something that developed between them as a result of said loss.)

I just think there's huge potential for very fucked up feelings and bad ways of dealing with grief, as slow-burn will-they won't-they madness, with Jake/Ezri and honestly this is the angle that compels me the most about this pairing.

[myeyesandheartadjust]

Thoughts while listening to The Mad Ones (fully) for the first time

Disclaimer:

I've heard a smattering of songs already but keep getting distracted while trying to listen to it from beginning to end

It took two days to get through it (it's a heavy musical, y'all!)

I definitely look at this through a queer lens

Here we go!!

Starting off strong with The Girl Who Drove Away

"Leave the fear and doubt behind! Choose the road less traveled! Not the memories to real! Not to guilt that leaves you paralyzed!"

"If only i could turn the key...." This whole song is just Sam needing a hug

Hi Kelly!!! 👋 👋

"Map's are for brain deads"

Sam, you don't sound convinced about college.

"But what if she doesn't?? OH TWIST!!" KELLY 🤣🤣 Also, i was right

"Not a memory jumble" 🤣

For real though, WHY DO SAM'S MEMORY JUMBLES SOUND SO PRETTY

"I was figuring out who I was – the whole year – saying what I wanted, doing it, and one day the phone rings....." Oh, Sam :(

"What? You think it's gonna bite?"

"LET'S GOOOO!"

"She believed in listening to the highway. You start driving and keep driving. There's no stopping 'til Kelly says you're arrived."

There's queer vibes in this song, and I'm here for it!!

"Very slow, Brown." I can picture the smirk and the look Kelly's giving Sam, and it's very gay

"Freedom! Freedom! FREEDOOOOOM!"

I love how Sam's saying big things and Kelly's all like, "I want Arby's. I wanna go skinny dipping!" 😂

"Let's go! Let's go! Pick a road, pick a highway. Any road is going my way. Let's go! Live it up with no complicated philosophies!No college, no career! No kids, no fancy house! No! Let's go! ANY ROAD BUT THE ROAD WE'RE ON!"

"NO COLLEGE! NO CAREERS! NO SCREAMING KIDS! NO MORTGAGE!"

"There's something buried within here, a lesson to keep, the impulse, the life force, the diving in deep. I feel it. The chaos. I usually flee. If I hold on right here, could I learn to just BE?!" 😭

"Don't talk about it. Live it. Don't feel the loss of it. Feel it." 👀

"Trees blurring into nothing. And i am nothing. And she is nothing." Poetry! Also gay vibes!

"It's so real and so like a memory. And the sun is so bright that I'm squinting. And it feels like I've found FREEDOOOOOM!"

Kelly and Sam being rock stars is so funny, and it sounds like car rides with them would've been epic

Sam singing in Ordinary Senior Year is so sad 😪

A statistician teaching someone how to drive .... sounds like a recipe for disaster

"Sam failed her drives test...four times!" I was right 😁 Poor Sam! Half of them weren't her fault but still!!

"DRRRRIVE!!"

Top Ten is a really fun sounding song. If you heard it out of context, though, you'd be like what!

"Old age. Lame! Impossible!" 😂

Some of these are really hilarious, like the alien one, the mentos, and the poor Sting one!

"Hit by a car on the way home from the library." 👀 Ouch! Is that how she actually died?

Sam and Adam... okay??? Sam can be bi but Smple As That sounds like a friendship song (minus the makeout bit)

"For sure. He's the perfect guy for a girl like me." SUURE!! Sam

The Proposal = a song that would sound incredibly weird out of context and one that i can't take seriously

Sam, if you're this conflicted over this about wanting to have sex with him, you're probably NOT in love (or like) with Adam. Not even for pancakes! (Also, I can see a side note, but I can see Sam as ace/aro and secretly wanting a QPR with Kelly or being a closeted bisexual/lesbian)

Lyrics like "Feel your carnal urges taking hold" and "EMBRACE YOUR DESTINY," is why I can't take this song seriously

Kelly's with a TA. Okay, Kelly's either deeply repressed about her love for Sam or is bi. Or both!!

"All alone. Was I lost, or was I alive. In the space in the hole, she CREATED!"

Yeesss The Mad Ones!!

Jack Kerouac quote my love 🥰 (This song introduced me to it, and I fell in love with it)

"IF WE'RE GONNA GO, WE GOTTA GO TONIGHT!"

"Pushed to the edge, out on the ledge. Will you die out or burn, BURN?!" 🔥🔥🔥🔥

"'CAUSE THOSE GOOD OLD BOYS! THEY'VE HAD THEIR GOOD OLD DAYS. BUT NOT THEY'RE GONE, AND NOW THEIR WORLD IS OURS TO TAKE."

Here we gooo!! "We're mad to go. Mad to drive. Mad to be alive. We're chasing stars. A thousand suns. The mad, THE MAD ONES!!"

I know how this song goes, but two drunk girls making a plan to run away sounds A: gay and B: like a recipe for disaster

"STOP SAYING CAN'T! STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!" Kelly is kinda bossy, I'll admit Sam

"It's never or now! YES! Time to take your foot off the BRAKE!"

The key change and the blended harmony is just ahhhhhh!!

The back and forth call of "WHO LET DOWN WHO?!!' So pretty yet so sad in context

"If we'd only gone that night, then I wouldn't be DEAD!!" Still an OUCH every time I get to this part

"YOU! YOU! YOU! YOU!"

"WE BREAK THE LOCK! WE KICK THE DOOR. TO REACH FOR MORE, WE MAKE THE RULES. We MAKE A VOW. TO BE MAD. GIRL, WE'RE WHAT MATTERS NOW!"

The beginning piano and strings of I know My Girl is pretty

Okay, Sam's mom, Beverly, didn't impress me at first, but I kinda like her in this song. Now I'm hungry for cookies, though :(

Miles to Go, I'm not entirely sure how it's supposed to fit in the plot, but I love it, and it would sound lovely out of context

Freedom callback!!!!! Ahhh!!

Two really pretty songs in a row and one of them Say The Word being about Sam's relationship with Adam and possible sex?? Wow

"Let me go if it's easier. But say the word, and I might have to stay!"

"I wanna love. I wanna ride. I wanna be the girl by your side!"

Moving On is fun (even though they're avoiding the obvious)

"I'M ALIVE. YOU'RE ALIVE!!"

Freedom melody callback part 2

Go Tonight = the second song I've ever heard from this show and one that got me through when I thought I almost lost a friend

"She was- She was sitting on the roof of her beat-up car, half singing, half laughing, half going too far."

"If we're gonna go, we gotta go tonight. GOOOOOOOOOO OOOO TONIGHT!!! 😭

I saw a clip from what must've been a workshop or preview that had Sam singing the words, "She was everything I loved," instead of, "She was everything I'm not...." and honestly, I think both would've worked. 🥰

"SINKING DOWN IN THIE VOID LIKE A CRATER. GETTING LOST IN A WORLD THAT I CAN'T REWIND. IT'S TOO LATE AND IT'S JUST GETTING LATER!" 😭😭

"I unravel until I REMEMBER, SITTING ON THE ROOF OF YOUR BEAT-UP CAR!" 😭😭😭😭

"What I didn't know was that time doesn't stop - prom still has a theme, the valedictorian still gives a speech on a future she knows nothing about." 😭😭😭

Run Away With Me!! That is the first song I ever remember hearing :)

"We'll be on the road like Jack Kerouac, looking back. Sam, you're ready. Let's go!"

The "I'm not trying to make you a wife here!!" isn't helping your case, pal 🙄

Please tell me you broke up with Adam after this, Sam, because Adam does NOT get to pull a Kelly, wip out a Jack Kerouac reference, and ask you to run away with him!! That was Kelly's role.

"Do you wanna die? Do you wanna fail?" OUCH, considering Kelly's dead and Sam has perfectionist issues

"DRRRRIVE!!"

"If you follow my instructions, I can free you. I can make you alive! I CAN DO IT ON MY OWN!!"

All the overlaps in Drive are pretty

"EIGHTEEN YEARS, YOU'RE MY WHOLE LIFE!"

"I don’t wanna be safe!"

The road you take should feel right…The road will tell you who you are!" 😭

Run Away With Me, and My Mom is a Statistician callbacks

What do I want? What do I need? It doesn’t matter if it’s a mistake. It doesn’t matter if I fail. I have to think big. I have to take control. Even if I disappoint everyone. Even if no one ever speaks to me again. I have to feel something!" 😭😭😭😭😭

"LISTEN TO ME!! I never dreamed of running away, but I do dream about the highway. I start driving and keep driving. I can’t stop 'til I feel alive again!" 😭

I Didn't Say Goodbye = another favorite that I've heard before and a really emotional one

"I can't do this alone." 😭😭

"You’re scared. You should be. If you’re not, you’re not doing it right. You do it now, you do it for you, and you do it alone!" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"Be mad, Sam. Be careless and wild and squeeze the life out of every second!" 😭😭😭😭

Kelly's crying, Sam's crying, I'm close to crying!

"And do not crash my car. I’m serious. I will like haunt you." I would laugh at that, but I'm trying not to cry

"You take the risk. You pay the cost. You drive until you're lost. And look around. See where you went. And your life will be a MONUMENT!"

"What did I always tell you? Maps are for braindeads? That's right!"😭😭

"I didn't get to say goodbye! Sometimes, you don't get to say goodbye." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"I really miss you. I know, it sucks right?"

"I live in what you do! In what you want to do. Now that I'm gone..... I'm moving on!" 😭

"What do you want Sam? I want the deafening sound of driving fast with the windows down! I want to reach the horizon of IMPOSSIBILITY!"

Now we're back where we began with the theme for The Girl Who Drove Away

"Remember this! The racing heart, the faded dawn. Remember this, before the moment’s gone!"

"Remember feeling like your life begins today. Try to stop and feel each second slip away. Remember this"

"REMEMBER EVERYTHING THAT LED YOU HERE! Each road trip and every single tear!"

"You look back on your life. On the girl you were for eighteen years. You look back one more time. THEN YOU LET IT GO!"

Freedom callback one last time.

"Freeeedom! Freeedom! Freeedom! Freeedom! Freeedom! FREEDOOOOOM!!!"

[writer-or-whatever]

The body swap WIP! I love that trope🤭

It's a good fucking trope! Although currently that fic sort of exists just as a bulleted list type outline, not any concrete scenes yet (despite the fact that it has been nebulously floating around in my brain for like a year). Anyway, please enjoy the concept:

AU where soulmates swap bodies for 24 hours. This happens when one of them needs the other most instead of some arbitrary age. Peter, of course, is alone in NYC post-nwh and after Ned and MJ go away to college. 

The bodyswap happens on a completely mundane Tuesday. Peter hasn’t even had any kind of big spiderman fight, and MJ isn’t in any kind of trouble beyond the six courses she’s taking this semester (it’s slightly too many, or so Ned keeps saying, but she needs to keep herself busy to keep her mind off the gaping hole she feels in her life but can’t really get her head around) 

When they swap, Peter does his best not to panic. He goes through his day, doing his best to channel his inner MJ (which, shouldn’t be too hard. He is in her body) and not clue anyone in. He finds her class schedule, goes, takes notes, and lays low so she doesn’t fall behind. He makes it almost all the way through the day before Ned finally catches up to him and almost immediately clocks that he is, in fact, not MJ. Cue the great grilling for information.

Ned is so excited for MJ, for both of them honestly—even though he doesn’t know Peter—and Peter feels so so bad for clamming up and skirting around so many of his questions, giving just the most perfunctory answers and trying not to break down at having his best friend’s enthusiasm aimed at him again. Ned assumes that MJ is the one who needs her soulmate, he knows about her unease and the feeling that she’s missing something big—knows about her lists and drawings of a boy they don’t know (but that looks so familiar somehow) and the feeling of loss that she tries to play off every time he asks. 

Peter feels like he’s been punched in the solar plexus for the entire conversation. He had no idea that MJ was feeling like this. He hadn’t realized that everyone that forgot him had a Peter Parker sized hole in their lives. He didn’t realize it was possible for anyone to miss him so much, especially when they never even knew he was missing. Peter gets so worked up about this that he actually vomits. Ned is so so worried, but before Peter can really say anything one way or another, he’s back in his own body. 

Meanwhile MJ is having quite the Tuesday. She wakes up in this sad tiny cramped apartment back in New York. It takes her approximately five minutes to come across the spidey suit, which is draped over the shower curtain rod drying. It takes her even less time to find the picture of her, Ned, and the boy whose face she is currently wearing. 

She gets that same sick feeling in her gut and buzzing in her head that she’s had for months, every time she tries to figure out what the hell is missing. She still doesn’t know all the details, or any of them really, but the weird holes in her life and in her and Ned’s friendship seem to be adding up to the shape of this boy—of fucking spiderman apparently (and why does that information give her a bit of smug satisfaction? Not that her soulmate is a superhero but rather the fact that she’s figured out that this boy is spiderman). 

She digs around his entire tiny one-room apartment and lays out everything she finds and deems another important piece of the puzzle. She finds a few more photos of them, a lego star wars figure (notably one of the ones that Ned has complained he’s missing from one of his sets), and then the fucking note. The one he wrote to practice telling them who is he is. The one where he tells them all about who he is (Peter Parker), and who he was to her and Ned. Upon reading this, she has a vague memory of this guy walking into the diner she used to work at and giving her his whole name with his order of a single small black coffee before he left. 

Suddenly she is so so angry. It comes from somewhere deep inside her, deeper than the well of the strange sadness she’s been dealing with for months. She doesn’t remember knowing Peter, but somewhere deep inside her she remembers being devasted by something he’s done. 

It’s almost midnight, so she doesn’t have time to do much other than leave him a short note that she leaves on top of all of the other things she’s dug out over the course of the day. It just says ‘You owe me an explanation, Peter’ and her phone number. 

This is, of course, a bad things happen bingo prompt fill so I'm leaving the ending a bit open. So yeah. That's the bodyswap au WIP. Thanks for asking 🥰

[cadrenebula]

Prompt #13: Butte

Alex stood near the wall separating the company yard and the sharp drop beyond. The location had been picked specifically with defense in mind. Having the Loche's next door meant that side was trusted to be safe. Which left only one path down the path towards the company's location and one unknown neighbor close by. Easily defend-able should shit happen.

That wasn't saying he trusted everyone that operated in the company. There were several he hadn't met yet. But he did trust Alfa enough with security after their fight in the front lawn. Of course Alex had also done a background check on the head of security though. Alfa didn't seem to have anything that wasn't easily found.

He hadn't background checked the Loche family. There was no need to. They had been the family that had taken his first real friend in when Lance was at a rather low point in his life. They had practically adopted Lance and his brother, Loth.

The knight and the assassin still hadn't quite reached the point of friendship they had had when they were younger. When things had been less complicated between them. But they were no longer at the point where Lance was constantly trying to kick his ass or turn him in for his crimes.

It would probably still take them a good deal of time to settle into a friendship again. They had both changed a lot since they had been younger. So much shit had happened between them and with Lance's partial memory loss... Alex knew it was still going to take time. Even after they had teamed up to rescue Loth. Before that rescue though, the gap between them had seemed as large as the drop before him. Lance had hated his guts and had every right to. Alex had been the one to destroy things between them when they'd been younger. It might have been in an effort to keep the young knight safe but it hadn't been well thought out. It had resulted in a betrayal that hadn't even protected Lance as Alex hoped it would.

Lance wasn't quiet in armor as he walked up to stand beside Alex at the wall. Neither spoke as they looked out over the landscape beyond. Clearly Lance had just returned from Coerthas where he worked for Ishgard. There had been several easy silences between them since the kidnapping. Neither really felt the need to break the silence. But things weren't fixed between them either.

They'd get there eventually. Lance had slowly been remembering bits and pieces of what he'd forgotten. Alex just hoped not all those memories would return. Otherwise he'd have to keep Lance safe from himself. Alex had done his best to bury all that he could about Lance's dead wife for his friend's sake. Was it a good idea to do this? Probably not but the state Lance would be in... That would be worse. Especially the way Lance had been after he had watched his father die in a trial by combat. The man had been prowling the Palace of the Dead before that just looking for the specter of his former knight commander. Last thing he wanted was Lance hunting for a dead wife too. Not when Lance seemed happy with Kyna.

Kyna belonged to House Haillenarte too which made her acceptable to Alex. Alex trusted that High House above any of them. Most of the High Houses could burn for all he cared about. Haillenarte seemed to care about more than just the upper class though. Possibly House Fortemps was okay. But most importantly, Kyna was against Lance's mother too. Anyone against that woman was okay with Alex.

"Long day?" Alex asked as he took out a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it.

"Not really. Just boring but boring is good sometimes." Lance responded with a shrug as they drifted back into an easy silence.

[tr0p1cal]

buy me a drink first smau

nine - no, no you do not 🖍

word count: 500+

⇨ after asking and asking, Changbin finally gets to perform at the local cafes “underground”, a bar and hot spot for the college kids in The Stars basement. After his performance a stranger brings him a drink and they continue to after every show going forward. Little did they know what that kind gesture would get them in to.

general warnings: sexual themes and language, cussing, mentions and consumption of alcohol

chapter warnings: the morning after getting jiggy in the sheets

series master

master | prev | next

Waking up to a beautiful man clinging to you like you were his life line, like you were the only thing he needed to keep going wasn’t something you expected to enjoy so much. Perhaps it’s because it was him. Or maybe it had just been a while since you had been close to someone in such a way, but with him, it felt right. Having him close felt electrifying, intoxicating even. It was unlike anything you’d experienced before.

After a short text conversation with your best friends, you felt the grip on you start to loosen. Quickly, you put down your phone to look at the man you were entangled with, only to meet his sleepy and confused eyes.

“Bee? What are you doing here?” The roughness of his morning voice shocked you a little. It was like heaven to your ears and you’d give anything to wake up to the sound every day.

“Good morning Binnie,” you greeted with a grin resting on your lips. “This is my bed, why wouldn’t I be here?”

He sat up a little and rubbed his eyes, one hand still lingering around you. As he started waking up, the fuzziness of his mind started to clear, remembering the evening's events. A light blush crept its way to his cheeks as he looked at you wearing his shirt. “Did we really…” he trailed off as his memory flashed through his mind.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you. “Yes, but we can pretend it never happened if you think that’d be best. We were both a few too many in to make clear judgment calls, so I apologize if it makes things awkward.” You gave him a small smile, hoping it wouldn’t change your blossoming friendship for the worse.

“What do you think? Would you prefer we act like nothing happened?” He sat up more, laying his hands in his lap.

The loss of contact felt suffocating, but you tried to ignore the thoughts. “Honestly,” you started with a sigh. “I’m not sure what to think about it. I don’t regret what happened at all, but I do wish we weren’t drunk.” You shrugged and shook your head. “We can talk about it later too, but right now I need a shower some kinda bad,” you groaned as you rubbed your temples, feeling the headache start to set in.

“I’ve got a class to get to, so I have to get going so I can run home and freshen up beforehand.” He stood and looked around the room for his pants. “I’ll text you later?”

You nodded, watching as he got dressed to leave. “Oh your shirt! I’m sorry I wore it. Here,” you said as you moved to take it off.

“I gave it to you to wear, so don’t apologize. I’d let you keep it for now, but unfortunately I have nothing else to wear,” he said as he took it from your outstretched hand and put it on, silently basking in the way it now smelled like you.

“We’ll talk later, but I’ve gotta go. Thank you for a great night,” he said with a wink as he turned to leave.

You smiled as you got up to follow him and watch him leave. “Have a good day Bin!” You yelled right before the door shut. A sigh escaped past your lips as you stared at the door in silence.

Waking up next to a beautiful man everyday could be something you could get used to, if that man was Seo Changbin.

tag list🏷

@randomness7198 @soupbinlily @clumsy-writing-rdb

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck Week 2024

Day 4 - Favorite UMA: UMA Ghost

This is a really tough one since the majority of UMAs don't get much character development. Thus far, Spring and Clothy are the best explored, and the Master Rules are most likely going to rocket to the top pretty soon, but at the moment, I have to go with which UMA made the biggest impression on me, and that has to be Ghost

Not only does Ghost have, in my opinion, the absolute sickest design, he also facilitated one of the coolest fights. Andy vs. Nico was wildly upsetting in the best way; we got so much insight into Nico when up to that point it kind of seemed like he was just supposed to be a support character. We didn't know yet how impressive it was that he beat Language solo, and it kind of gave the impression that both of them were pretty weak, but the Ghost fight completely negated that impression

Unforgettable seems like it's not the most impressive ability, but the way that Nico was able to utilize it to master martial arts and recreate combat data of his fallen comrades suddenly made it odd that he was only the Eighth Seat! As we learn in his bio, Juiz kept his seat low on purpose so he wouldn't be obligated to leave the lab too often, letting him cling to Ichico's memory as much as possible

Ghost and Nico also are just an amazing combo. Memories and lost souls go together fantastically, and Nico's sunken, haunted eyes and aging emaciated body give him a simply ghoulish aesthetic that pairs perfectly with the gaping maw of Ghost's burlap cloak and skeletal limbs clinging to him

Loss, grief, memory...so long as we remember, people don't die, and the addition of Ghost perverts that very idea. The memory of those who have been lost is used to force them back into our world, and to force them to behave in ways they certainly wouldn't accept. Maybe Void would want to slug Andy, but there's no way he and Gina would ever allow themselves to be used to betray the Union

This same perversion is applied to Ichico as well. Ghost manipulates Nico with the promise of the memory of his wife. In Nico's heart, Ichico is dying, as all of his memories of her were before he became Unforgettable. If the accumulating memories overtake and crush what came prior, then Ichico will truly be gone. To preserve her memory, Nico strikes a deal with Ghost and kills all of his friends, endangers his daughter, and sells out the very world itself. Ichico would never be happy with that decision, but for Nico, it's all he has. Despite being Unforgettable, Nico cannot retain the one memory he wants to keep, and thus is haunted by a ghost that grows ever fainter

And of course, we can't discount Ghost's personality as well. Ghost claims to have always been lonely, likely because many people don't believe in ghosts even after his addition; many people manifest as generic spirit orbs rather than retaining their shape. When Andy acknowledged his soul, Ghost found him to be someone he could relate to and offered to be his friend. What exactly this means to him isn't delved too far into, but a UMA desiring friendship is very compelling. I doubt we'll get to interact with him again in L101, but I'd certainly appreciate it if he came back during the Soul fight

Honestly, if there's one fight I want to see reach the anime, it's the Ghost fight. How they would convey the difference between the hollow and soul-powered Astral Dolls, how they represent the silver glow of the soul, Nico's ever-mounting anguish as his personality slowly erodes and gives way to Ghost's possession...there's so much about this fight that I can envision would be so sick to watch, and if this season was any indication, there's a very good chance that they wouldn't disappoint