#my brain is baren

[cryptidcat5105]

Empyrean AU

So I've been thinking about Onyx Storm and the reasons we got for Violet's silver hair and my brain decided "what if we just throw all of that out the window for now and give Violet albinism?" And so these mad ramblings came to be. I've got more too, but since I lack any fanfiction writing talents this is probably gonna turn into a series of vague made up lore about dragons, venin and magic itself with some occasional illustrations. Probably gonna name it Sky wielders AU.

Edit: art, part 2 and part 3 :)

Anyway assume there's spoilers for the entire series

I think albinism would be pretty rare on the Continent, maybe people only heard about it from stories and stuff. So when Violet is born and she's white as snow with red eyes I'm sure her parents nearly had a heart attack but quickly adapted.

Fast forward a few years and the Sorrengail siblings are hearing their first stories about dark wielders from Papa Sorrengail and at one point they would just ask "is Vi a venin?" to which Lilith would ban the fables in the house for a few months.

Everything else would go about as normal with Brennan faking his death and Violet getting forced into the riders' quadrant, except Violet gets a patch from Lilith before even crossing the parapet which indicates to leadership that no, she's not a venin, leave her be.(Violet doesn't actually know what it means and it confuses her greatly). She also gets to keep the Fables of the Barens for plot convenience.

I imagine the marked ones would all be collectively losing their shit once she gets in the quadrant, but would keep their distance once they saw that leadership didn't seam concerned, silently seething at the thought that Navarre would let the very thing that got their parents killed freely walk among them.

Xaden is overall just creeped out by Violet's appearance but quickly figures out she's just challenged in the pigment department and not a venin. Once he catches her at the marked ones' meeting things would go pretty much the same as in canon with Xaden adding some pointed jabs at her appearance. "What you lack in physical color you make up with your colorful vocabulary" or something along those lines probably, he still calls her a "violent little thing" though.

Sometime after this incident Violet starts noticing some of the older cadets locking eyes with her and bowing their head. She assumes most of them are either really tired or really high if the red rims around their eyes are anything to go by... until a hyperventilating first year with vivid red eyes corners her asking how to manage pulling from the earth.

Violet is obviously distraught at this but realizes pretty quick that if the both of them start spiraling shit's gonna get ugly real quick so she tries to keep a cool head and figure out what the cadet has done. (For my sanity and plot cohesion let's name this cadet Kate)

Violet: What do you mean you pulled from the earth?

Kate, panicking: Well it was really an accident. Some douchbag tried to jump me and it was self defense really. I don't even know how I did it. The othes said to come to you, since surely you know how to handle this, considering...*gestures at the whole of Violet*

Violet: I... I'm not a venin, I have never pulled from the earth? I don't know how I could possibly help. And who are these others? There's more of you maniacs?

Kate: But your eyes-... Uh, yeah there's more of us and they kinda assume you're a Sage, but I'm starting to realize just how wrong they were and just how screwed I am. *Slides down the wall*

Violet, considering her options, but tucking the Sage comment for later: Does the red fade?

Kate: From what they told me yea...but after one point it's permanent.

Violet: *sighs* I might have something that would probably give us at least some answers if not a cure

Violet than proceeds to have a whole metal breakdown about the existence of venin and how royally screwed everything is. Over the course of the next few days the same cadets that seemed to show an ounce of respect before, are glaring daggers at her and throwing suspicious glaces her way. She also started looking through the fables for some way to help Kate since she was clearly not like the evil monsters depicted in the stories, but rather a sacred and confused 20 y/o with no clue about what she's done.

Violet came to the conclusion that if the power from the earth is bad then the one from the sky is good so what's the harm in suggesting switching power sources if possible. One night Kate agrees to talk with her and they met near the river bank where the marked ones met at the beginning of the year. Kate was accompanied by two others but they looked just as nervous as her so Violet assumed they were both venin as well and looking for a solution just like their friend.

After sharing her theory about the sky and earth they spent the next few hours trying to pull magic from the air around them. They were not successful but at the very least all three cadets were able to sense the power coming from the sky and decided to try some more the following nights.

For maybe a week they all kept trying, some other cadets, even from upper years, all of them venin, joining them sometimes. They were all able to feel the magic but it was slipping their grasp like water.

At one point Kate kinda just gave up for the night and decided to just try and feel the magic around them, to study it in a sense. After a little while she felt a slight trickle of power cooling her skin. She quickly got up thinking she accidentally pulled from the earth again but quickly realized that the earth's power was warm not cold and there was no patch of desiccated land either. She looked around and everyone seemed to be staring at her.

Kate: What just happened?

Other cadet: Dude, I think you just pulled from the sky if you're eyes are anything to go by.

Kate, irritated: Ugh, great! Even the sky gets our eyes red! Awesome!

Violet: They're not red! Take a look at your reflection, they're silver!

Overall excitement spreads through the venin that are part of this little group and they figure out that they've got to let the magic come to them instead of taking it themselves.

Everyone fully stops channeling from the earth and their eyes no longer have any red hues. Instead they have a constant supply of power that feels borderline sentient with how it seems to watch their backs and make them aware of any possible threats. Their eyes also become iridescent and they all figure out they can change their eye color at will (Wink, wink! nudge nudge!). They're a bit weirded out by everything but pretty happy they no longer have to deal with the effects of channeling from the earth.

Her little gathering has been trying to convince her to channel from the sky as well since it would keep her safer in the quadrant but she tells them that she only figured out channeling from the sky as an answer to their problem and it didn't feel fair to do it when she didn't have a serious reason to.

Violet in the meantime starts recording all her new findings and bonding with her squad but not really telling them about what she's been doing, while in the background all the usual things happen, like challenges and the gauntlet except this time Violet has a bit of extra training from the nights spent past curfew so she does a bit better. During the Gauntlet the dagger trick still happens because I love when people win on a technicality. Everyone gets lined up for Presentation and they start marching forward. Quite a few dragons have been lowering their heads and sniffing some cadets, particularly the first years Violet's been helping and she hopes that none of them get torched today. A few dragons have been sniffing at her as well but she just thought it was because of the dragon scale corset or her peculiar appearance. Once they reached the end of the line of dragons Violet saw the golden dragon everyone seemed to be muttering about. It was pacing excitedly on the spot and raising itself onto it's back paws as if to see the line better. The brown next to it looked so done with the golden one and once Violet locked eyes with the smaller dragon, the brown immediately put a foot on the golden one's tail to keep it from bolting into the line of cadets. Violet was a bit concerned about the whole ordeal but she would not question the ways of dragons.

Threshing goes about as well as in canon except when Violet finds Andarna, she's imidiately accosted by a wiggling mess that's sniffing and circling her like she's some old friend.

Once Jack Fucking Barlow and his entourage show up the fight to protect the dragon ensues and Xaden still comes to watch the shitfest, but this time Andarna actually barrels into one of Violet's opponents (just because I would've like it to happen in canon) and Sgaeyl is reasonably concerned because Andarna was way more chill about all of this before Presentation. What the hell happened with being calm and collected, Golden One?

Tairn shows up, scares the shit out of JFB, torches the guy that wasn't already passed out because of Andarna and stops to sniff Violet as well before commanding she gets on his back. Violet starts wondering why every dragon has an obsession with sniffing her but gets sidetracked by Tairn's aerobatics.

When they finally land Violet notices there are a bunch of larger, battle-scared dragons, nearly on par with Tairn, in the clearing that weren't at Presentation, every single one of them had one of her sky wielders between their front legs and she felt a sense of pride at the sight despite the shock of getting two dragons herself.

Andarna continues to be hyperactive nudging Violet this way and that but Tairn didn't look too concerned so she took it as a good sign.

Violet: I don't mean to offend you, but are you excited that you bonded or is there another reason you are this happy?

Andarna: Oh, I'm happy I bonded, alright, but there are other reasons too. Those can wait a bit though, so don't worry!

Violet: Ok, I'll trust your judgement...

Tairn: Wise decision.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

[ee-where-they-shouldnt-be]

put absolutely every single ee character in a baren desert. my brain is feeling a certain mood today

Finally after all these years... It is done.

I present to you EVERYONE IN A DESERT

thats a screenshot because the file is way to big so heres some closeups!

Going from left to right

The Heathers

Giovanni and his boys

Rick dying for the 30th time + Feenie and Trixie

Arnold and Bugsy

Assorted Banzai Blasters

Scaregrow

The Ogres

Skywatcher and wellwatcher (Wellwatcher is in the well)

Percy, Gorou, and the Bartender guy

Indus and Mera

various background characters + wolf (who i made a little small here, oops)

Howie and the bees

Yoomtank

Zora and Gun Cat chasing Ramsey

Mollys classmates

Lorelai and Graham

Molly w/ da bears

Sylvie + all his sheeps

the bee i hate so fucking much

(follow the landscape behind graham and you should find him)

[shelovesme-imhappynow]

Here I sit, in a room so desolate.

With only the scent

left lingering on your shirt to keep me company.

I look to the roof,

Hoping to feel your touch

As you guide my eyes to yours

She’s beauty I wish to admire for the rest of my life.

I want her to interlock her fingers with my own,

And let the warmth of her breath

Entangle within my soul.

I want the pressure of her self,

To lay gently on my chest,

I wish for her to come back,

I wish she never left.

I look to the roof,

With chest that feels so light,

I turn to my side,

And the sight of not seeing you

Doesn’t feel right.

Will I reach for you in my sleep,

Or grab the duvet and bring it closer?

I just want to face the wall and sleep,

But the emptiness without you still lingers.

I turned around to sleep,

In the nights you were here,

Thinking I was comfortable in the silence,

But the silence is now screaming to me,

You make everything seem so clear.

But not too long to go now

Until the next night you sleep next to me,

But aswell, not long until the sun rises,

And a day without you begins,

Not long until I open the door once more,

To this baren, cold room,

That no longer harbours your smile,

No longer it is filled, with the light of you,

But I am still happy

For I’m left with the thought of you;

your smile,

Your elegance,

Your grace,

But most of all

The shirt still smells of you.

To keep you here with me,

It at least can trick my brain.

[myventpoems]

What would happen if I left.

What would my mom do,

Would she cry out in pain and loss

Or go about her day

Would by brothers jump in joy

Or rot in their own grief

Would my father sigh as tears roll down his face

Or lauph that there’s not another person taking up space

Would my dog notic.

Would she realize there is someone missing

What would my best friend do.

He is my best friend right

There’s no reason I wouldn’t say that.

But when he belevs people that’s lied to him countless times

How trust worthy can he be.

Would by girlfriend know?

Would some event tell her.

4000 miles apart

With only one text every week

Makes me thing about everything that’s been happening.

By left i mean gone.

Not alive.

Would my enemies cry in joy.

Would they ever regret the way they talked about me.

Would I even care if they knew.

How long would it take to be forgoten.

My bedroom cleared out

And left baren.

My face fading from memory

Should I care.

Should I spend all this time worrying about what people say.

Should I care if my friends actually hate me

Or if my family wishes I wasn’t there.

Should I care if they even know im gone.

Should I care if tears don’t fall from their eyes.

No tears over their face.

It’s always dry.

And yet I always seem to have tracks down my face

Always holding back tears.

The corners of my eyes red and burned from the sorrow I’m my brain.

Would my girlfriend notice when my text stop coming.

Would my family move on with out a second thought.

Would my best friend care to listen to me when I’m still here

Would I care if I lived or died

[cherokeegal1975]

Crystal Singer Series by Anne McCaffery

I have this book on my shelf, plus the two others in the series and the audiobook versions because I like those over reading when possible. Not that I'd turn my nose up at a good story just because I had to read it myself. I found a few very good books that don't come in audio that I think I already recommended here on my page.

About a woman who fails her singing test, she's not bad, but not top notch. She was good enough to get some good gigs but she wanted the best and so ran off to become a crystal singer instead.

Balybran, the planet that produces crystals that people depend on for communications and space travel, needs miners with a pitch perfect ear. This is to help them use their cutters when they mine the crystals.

One of the problems with Balybran is that there's a symbiotic lifeform that renders the human body baren, but give them supreme longevity. And the other problem is that they can't leave the planet for more than a year, because the symbiont requires them to go back to the planet or die.

There's even a bit of a cross over in the last book where Killashandra and her friend/lover ride on a brain ship. Which is introduced to the reader in another very good series The Brain Brawn Ship series. I highly recommend that one too. What can I say? I am a lifelong Anne McCaffrey fan ever since junior high.

So, this is my next recommendation. I like the audiobook best, and it's available on Audible. But also, Kindle and in print as well.

Happy reading!

[solardick]

U I O

Mommy, I’m afraid. I’ve never said mommy before. I don’t want to go. Through another change. I don’t know anyone here. Everyone’s French. I’m always singled out. But- I don’t want to go.

God damned man. Yes, yes I am. Thanks for noticing. It’s rare in fleeting moments to see that from a passing stranger.

Everything is evil. There’s nothing in life for me.

Oh wait. There already is another girl. Lol. Like a transition girl. I liked the way she talked. Redhead. Which was already brought up a couple times. The forst time. I was like what? Why would i care? No whatevwr. Privably druged that coffee today. Hopenit doesnt keep me up all night. Sleep is the onyl time the world stops and there nothing. Intil i opne them again.

Maybe ho bsck to art instead of watching everyone in existsnce pretend to be someone they ate not. No human interaction at all. Since all my availibale social means arent very trustworthy are they.

And honestly. I dotn like redhead dna. Oh my god im - racist. Time ti take anothwr beating.

Naw man, i may look all sexy and manly and all. And i may look all smart and all to everyones spite. But now. Im actually just sma fully receptive woman. I have no cock. Im net here to f@&$. Im here to be fuckd. Learn to enjoy it. 39 years andcoubtibg. It never gonna be different. Buy a couple dildos. And get an anema bag. Shave head to toe. Body hair is a turn off and i want to be a sexy as i can. Make my man. Or men happy. Live a sacrificial life. And not build myself up. Just be fully sexual. No need to connect to anyone. I just need so e dick. With wahte ever they injected me with covid. Choice is mych taken away anyway. And i qant to feel proud of my accomplishments. Even if that means getting them off. I want to be thanked and encouraged. Too bad i cant bear you children. Im baren. Cause indotn have a womb. So inlose anyway. I cant hive that to you. And it makes me sad. They bette rhave huge cocks cause. Your pussy little 6 inch isnt enough. Do ‘t want uou being smallesr than me. That be a turn off. Since thats the onyl part that matter. The rets of it. Is just gross.

Was enjoying the experience of the feminine mentality. In a safe secure way. But then they raped my spyche.

Not like i have any experience being masculine in any other way than object placement. Not allowed to be. Just the destructive, evil side where “instinct” has full control. Sangerous stuff but whatever. I remember how i was. And it sickens my heart. There’s no control. Oh well im just a sick fuck that need to be fucked. Feed the desease. And not the cure. Thats all life has ever done. Sorry if i wanted soemthign different for once. To go with me “being on my own” away from degenerate violent sources coming from inside my own home. And shading everywhere else. I dont want to be alive anymore.

Yup. Ok.

Heres my “ new” identity. Im a total fag.

There going to keep doing this to me for the rest of my life aren’t they.

No, she back. The whole fucken shop is just fucken with me. What’s new? That’s all life is. Since my first memory.

Ill just keep doing wgat im doing until tgey fuck me back onto the street. Then hooefully ill have a rffle by tten that i can suck off until i blow my brains out.

I aint dealing with tjose ficken cocksuckers today. Give me a fuvken written punishment for heing abusef afain. Go for a walk and enjoy the sun.

Well ill have my IHF course completed soon enough. Takes a first step. And it gives me something to look forward to. A way out from being the devil’s bitch. Mmmnn the sun feels nice.

Go and treat myself. Sone lively dialogue with done pretty women. Sunshine. Well noy anymore. Cloudy. Pick up some more things. Wash my own back. It’ll be nice.

I walk in, there she is staring me down again. A guy, who abuses the term sans design or however its spelled. Your coffeees and ice cap or something. Because i carried it from timmy’s not in a thermos. Wasnt hot. Getting cool. Mostly drunk. Talking over and through her standing in between with her back tunerd only slightly showing the front. I pause. “ it will be once i get inside. Dudes hyped on speed getting straight to work while i calculate the sheet. And set up the work station. Already inside loading it up. Ok then. Helped the station beside me. Insulating rhe freezing from getting in. Poorly parked vans. Well im ready now. Lets go to work. Nope. Processing the mind rape games. Was left just standing around waiting. Getting more depressed by the minute. Sitting at the table. Dead. People wanted to see. So then ealked passed trying to be unassuming or whatever. But as soon as i got in and the office and saw me. Depressed. Gave a sigh of disappoitnemt. Like i should be in a good state. Yeah ok. Sure. So i left. I could barely function. I chose suicide.

What you fucken speedo. Getting mad at me cause im fucked. Yeah sure leave. Bye. Ill do the van myself. No? What your back? Who you gonna be positive and try and display a healthy bond. Ok. Thats cool. We can do that. But no. I was just left standing around. While not knowing the details about wtf? Crates? What you tlaking about. Ok ill just stand arounf for the next hour.

When it is enough, man. Or was i just born to be tossed around and damaged? 39 fucken years and counting.

Your nothing but a bad influence. Your nineties punk rock mentality. Negative associations to everything. Giving none smokers nicotine. Bitching about your cowerkers stupid bs. And then give them cigarettes. Your first approach to me was handing me a speed pill. I was flabergasted at what the fuck your were trying to do. Fist bump? Ok. No? What? Hand shake? Wtf? Ok. Oh your giving me somethign. Oh its drugs. Ok. Maybe one day if i ever needed it. Its cool that you chauffer me around. Even though i always insist that you didn’t. Thanks for the shit. Though. Its cool to have some furniture. And im polite and social with uou. But i dont like you.

Ill work with the dipshit. If he wasnt talkign about cocks and gay shit. Be militant.

There sidetracking accomplished. Stay the fuck away from everyone. Keep doing it till they toss you back int the sea again. You’d think that after all these years. Youd be a good swimmer. Naw. Inwas never a good swimmer. Its one of the only things i ever did poorly at. And and guitar. Lyricsl notes are beyond me.

And they’re never going to stop fucken with you. It’s for life. Born in hell. Tortured all the way through. Parent just equal violence. Brothers just equal violence. I apparently just equal sex. Theres no parents there. Just a fool for a father. Childlike. Being the youngest of a sized family. Temper tantrums and absence. Or stupid jokes. Like im a still baby. Mother is unstable. Freaking the fuck out in fits of bs. Never known a stable things. Homes, schools, jobs. Threats. Always threats. Growing in an oppression. Keep things to myself. The external always. Its always. I yeah. Nursery rhymes are olaying. You auto corrected to olaying.

[aworldoffandoms]

INSPIRATION NEEDED

SO I DESPERATELY NEED SOME WRITING INSPO SO CAN YOU PLEASE SEND ME SOME PROMPTS FROM THIS LIST HERE or HERE 🙏🙏🙏 (credit goes to author of both prompt lists)

I need to get my creative juices flowing so I can continue my mini-series of Nicolette's family (I'm stuck 😭) because I've been so busy with real life and have had no motivation to write so, again, I need your help!

I would be eternally grateful 💕 The prompt list is angst (I'm good at being a masochist lol) and love (because I love a good love fic) so send them through!

Ethan x MC or Bryce x MC pairings! 😊

Tagging my OH tag list so you can all give me some prompts to inspire some creative writer stuff in me 😂 please don't hate me for it

Taglist:

@senseofduties @polishchoicesfan @princess-geek @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @binny1985 @fanficnewbie @x-kyne-x @thefluffyphotographer @thecordoniandiaries @rainbowsinthestorm @jens-diamondchoices @hopelessly-shipper @my-heart-beats-for-ya @landofenchantedwonder @flyawayboo @stanathanxoox @oofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @heauxplesslydevoted @trappedinfandoms  @perriewinklenerdie @riverrune @caseyvalentineramsey @nithya @kaavyaethanramsey @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @theeccentricbiblophile @maurine07 @openheartthot @takemyopenheart @queencarb​ @drariellevalentine @drakewalkerfantasy @pixelberrychoicesaddict-blog​ @starrystarrytrouble ​ @buzz-bee-buzz @anything-but-reality ​ @doilooklikeiknow ​ @mvalentine ​ @jamespotterthefirst ​

Looking forward to all or none of them 😅❤

[brassclaws-of-oddworld]

How I depict Wayne and Baren in writing: *Diabolical, greedy, deplorable douchebags who have a surprising amount of ambition to work with what they have.*

How I depict Wayne and Baren in the Discord server: *Hurr-hurr, two douchebags who scream at each other about why the other doesn’t have Uno on Xbox*

[neochan]

pairing | dealer!renjun x reader ft. stoner!hyuck

warnings | mention of pills

wc | 600

song | #22 on my apple music replay was titanic by juicewrld

you shouldn't be here.

the winter wind stinging your bare face and wisps of fallen snow melting against your exposed skin. his door is baren, the dark green paint flaking off to land on your boots. the first knock didn't seem to grab his attention so you pound on the wood again.

"huang renjun! i know you're in there!"

and if he wasn't, you knew one of his roommates would be. hyuck would surely sell to you, lord knew he bought from renjun too.

shuffling steps from the other side of the door pique your interest right before it opens and warmth floods the front of your body. you wish he would invite you in, but you knew he wouldn't - there was no need for formalities.

the blonde haired boy stares back at you, "what do you want?"

your friends had told you what to say, so you wrack your brain trying to remember the script.

"i need some candy." the whisper is weak, but you were scared of getting caught. the last thing you needed was to get expelled from college and locked up for buying e.

e. ecstasy. mdma. molly. whatever you wanted to fucking call it.

you needed it. he had it.

he raises an eyebrow , "halloween was two months ago."

a smile cracks on your freezing cold face, "yeah, not that type of candy."

he leans against the doorframe as if the wind wasn't below freezing and snow flakes weren't wetting the floor of his entranceway. "I've never seen you before."

you shrug, "i'm new to campus and i heard you got some good shit."

"got that." he sighs deeply, raking his eyes over your bundled up figure, "why?"

the questions trips you up, "why?"

because you wanted to party. that's why. and if you showed up to your apartment empty handed, your friends would rip you to shreds.

"yeah. why do you need it?"

"clear my head i guess." you shift your weight from one foot to the other and wait patiently.

it takes a second of contemplation from him, but soon enough he waves his arm, beckoning you into his apartment. he seems deep in thought when he responds. "yeah... sit on the couch, i'll bring your shit in a minute."

the smell of marijuana hits you the second you step through. like slamming into a wall.

the apartment is nice - simple and clean, but obviously lived in by a bunch of boys. shoes were left discarded left and right, socks too.

renjun disappears down a hallway but you see the couch from where you're standing and head towards it. a shirtless male figure is sprawled across the cushions, a joint in his hand, and when he hears you enter the room his red eyes slide to yours.

"customer?" he asks, taking a hit from the blunt between his fingers.

you nod, not really sure what to say.

he lets the air filter out of his mouth and greedily sucks it back up through his nose.

"i'm haechan."

ah so this was haechan.

"a pretty girl like you should come sit on my lap and take a hit, hm?" a shit eating grin is plastered on his face when he pats his grey sweat pant covered thigh.

"stop flirting with my customers, hyuck." renjun deadpans, coming back with handfuls of pills. when he notices your eyes widen he chuckles, "didn't know your taste so i brought it all."

somehow, with a load of pills on the table, and a shirtless flirtatious stoner behind you, you can't help but wonder if your friends had thrown you to the wolves.

-

send me a number 1-100 and i'll write a drabble for the corresponding song on my apple music replay

[starfirette]

The Freak In Your House

Masterlist

✨Laura Palmer x Reader; they/them pronouns used!! Y/n is gender neutral!

✨considering this is a twin peaks fanfiction there are a few warnings. Nothing crazy but: BOB makes an appearance, y/n bleeds a little bit nothing bad though, no real spoilers for as to who killed Laura but I sprinkled in as much weird shit and foreshadowing details as I could.

✨I didn't explicitly specify if Y/n was dating Laura or not. I guess that's up to interpretation. I worked on this for a long time; after a while it became incoherent to me. I don't know how this really is, but I had my brother read it a few times and he said it was okay so I went with it. My brother is my beta reader for anything not smutty isn't that weird??? I mean I guess it's cool I have a good relationship with him then. ANYWAYS I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS PLEASE ENJOY IT

You waited in vain for Laura Palmer.

The night's breeze tousled your hair as you dug a circle in the ground with the toes of your All Stars.

You checked your watch. Already past midnight.

The neon green light times out as you begrudgingly gather your things back up into the wicker basket. The bottles of cheer wine chasers and vodka that you'd stolen from your older brother's liquor cabinet clattered in the basket. So much for the night out.

Laura was likely preoccupied by her plethora of alter egos and their respective occupations.

Laura's tendency to dabble in her various interests often meant that you were going to be left behind. For example, tonight was supposed to be a "chill night" wherein you would both chill. You were desperate to chill. The withering troubles of life gradually wore you down and down and Laura often worried that one day you'd just be a field of sand; like a rock being filed by the salty sharp waves that Twin Peaks had to offer.

The night forest was roughly illuminated by the waning gibbous moon, whose moonshine was casting rough shadows over the baren treetops. You navigated back to the main trail as you pulled a cheerwine out of your wicker basket.

Twigs snapped underneath your shoes, the flat soles barely keeping you from slipping over the clay like dirt. Chuck Taylors didn't make for good foot protection. Your mother told you as much everyday you departed for school with a new pair on.

You tossed the cheerwine bottle cap into the forest floor as you took a long drink. The pop was meant for you. The vodka was meant for Laura.

Owls hooted and watched you skip through the forest like Little Red, sipping pop and swinging the heavy wicker basket from hip to hip. The birds with their stern brows marked your passage in their wee brains, you presence in that forest, on that night, being forever marked in Great timeline.

They would not forget your face.

The morning sunshine didn't wake you like it usually did. This time of year it wasn't so surprising that the clouds and dreary rain remained adrizzling over the town. But your little home was situated on a peak that generally found itself out of the cloud bank.

You'd learned to navigate through the thick fog because the descension of your backyard led straight into misty cloud.

You sat up. The wicker basket fell to your bedroom floor.

The bottles rolled to the hardwood and shattered. Damn. You must have fallen asleep with it on your lap.

The sharp smell of vodka made your eyes water as it filled up your room. You scattered out of bed to open up a window. Your feet caught little knicks as they dashed over broken glass, the alcohol making the gashes burn.

Dewy mist dampened your room as you pushed the window panels out, happy to have a fresh breath of air.

You looked out at the yard around your house. How strange that the cloud bank was so far up. You stuck your hand through the fog and waves it around, dewy drops sticking to your skin.

You felt content here. Within you surges the sudden change of heart as you gripped the window sill gazing upon the yard. The trees were large enough in the distance that they trimmed through the clouds.

A tongue slithered over your bleeding foot.

A sharp gasp stabbed your chest as you yanked back, trying to look down while simultaneously escaping. You fell out your bedroom window, your back blowing out as you slammed into the grass. Contrary to your every childhood thought, the grass did not cushion your fall. You hiked your knee to your chest as you looked up to your window. You scrambled for a better view as the rolling low clouds impeded your view.

A man leaned out your window, looking at you with a bloody smile. Your blood. It coated his teeth like he's taken a large drink of it from a glass.

His smile was unpleasant. Eyes, bugged and dark, with stringy grey hair straightened down his shoulders by grease. Your body did not register the fear that rippled throughout until he started to speak to you. His shoulders curled as he hunched out, curled like a dog about to vomit. "The Owls told me you'd be here," he guffawed as he wheezed with laughter.

That voice. It made your ears hurt as you scrambled for proper footing. Your curled toes slipped with blood as you locked eyes with the man who watched you from your own bedroom.

You took off in a sprint to the front of your house. The wet ground and the blood that squelched between your toes made you slip on your ass, your tailbone shouting with pain as you tried to get back up.

Towards the front of the house was the round driveway, which came to an ellipsis after being dragged on a steep hill. Most people were too frightened to drive up it, opting to park at the bottom of the hill.

You saw an extra car parked uncharacteristically behind your older brother's. The side promoted the Twin Peaks sheriff department. Immediate panic twinged as your feet pounded on the hollow deck stairs.

You struggled to get the door open as you hit it with your fists. A freak is in the house. That's what you kept thinking. But at least there was a sheriff there, for whatever reason.

Laura took a long drag of her cigarette, blowing the air away from your face as the wind blew. The view from your roof top was her favorite. "You don't know what kind of freaks could be in your own house, Y/n."

You regarded Laura with confusion. "What's that mean?"

"It means that you're too pure for this world," Laura informed you with a swish of her blonde hair. "I've seen dirty things. Done dirty deeds. Heard dirty words. But you're the purest thing in all my life, you know that?"

Your shoulder aches after you threw yourself against the door, the entrance to your house becoming open to anyone who might linger. Despite all the cars in the driveway, there was no one in the sitting room.

Voices meandered upstairs and you nearly slipped up the steps as you heard the cries of your toddler sister.

Your voice was shouting out for anyone that might be able to answer. All you could imagine was that scary man, the way his voice sounded, and how your toddler sister might perceive him; the cruel things he may be ready to do to all your precious family members.

You slammed up the steps to the second level.

No amount of shouts and cries could have gotten their attention, otherwise the entire town would have come to your door.

You moved from room to room, trying to find someone, anyone, and maybe even a sign of the grotesque man that had loitered in your bedroom.

"... they're just not waking up," your mother's voice said, raised in such an octave that it inspired a sense of mild panic within you.

"Look at their feet! They're bleeding!" Someone said in a stern way.

Blood rushes cold in your veins as you hurry to your bedroom.

The entire family was surrounding your bed. The window was wide open, as you'd fallen from it before, but the misty fog had cleared. Wind rushed your sheer curtains up into the hair of your little sister as she pushed your face.

Your physical face. Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach as you caught sight of your physical form laying on the bed, the wicker basket strewn on the floor with the bottles shattered and broken. The vodka had still burned into the air.

The blankets had been pulled off of your figure, leaving you in your oversized band tee shirt and fleece pants.

The bottoms of your feet were scratched up and bleeding from the fresh wounds. This morning had been real. You'd startled yourself out of bed, cut yourself on the glass, then fallen out the window. All the evidence was there. But your body was laying still before your very eyes, sleeping soundly with tousled hair.

"Watch your feet, baby," your mother said to your sister as she hoisted her up. Your sister burried her face into her mother's neck. She whimpered with fear.

"Y/n is just sleeping," your mom said as she cast a wary glance to your father.

"Call an ambulance," the sheriff asked his deputy, who passed you with an air of strong servitude. He was a no nonsense sort of man. You could just tell as he made way to the foyer to make the call.

You prepared to wreak havoc.

But no yelling and shouting and stomping went noticed. You were in the face of the sheriff, screaming profanities as he tried to determine what to do in such a situation.

"What's going to happen?" Your father demanded as he pulled his wife and daughter close to his chest.

"There's no way Y/n has any part of what's happening!" Your brother added. Of all, your brother was exceedingly angry.

As they reared away from your bed, you crawled over to peer closet to your physical body. Sleeping soundly, breathing evenly; not dead. Every piece of cartoon logic and literature informed you that all you needed to do to fix this mess as simply dive straight back into your own self. Like jumping in a pool of water.

Stretching out to reach your body felt like dragging a screw behind a magnet. The pull was obvious; you could feel the surge that wanted to pull you back into your own figure.

"All I can tell you is the truth," the sheriff said solemnly. "Laura Palmer is dead. Y/n was supposedly with her last night. Now they're unresponsive, and with the wounds on their feet and fresh mud on their shoes? It looks suspicious."

The whole world felt like it was going to topple from beneath you.

Loud wind screamed through the bedroom as you clumsily fell back from your physical self.

"You can't do anything without a statement!" Your brother informed the officer with an aggression that you felt was only going to make things worse.

"As soon as Y/n is awake and healthy, we'll conduct standard procedure. Until then we just want to see that they get proper care. Admission to the hospital is necessary. There's no legal action being taken at this time."

Your desire to wake up was severed. The magnetic pull disappeared as you wandered around your bedroom. The ensuing chaos was only seen in television dramas; you watched the paramedics enter your house and take your body. The vitals, they said, were normal. You were healthy enough on the outside. Feeling calm with such a finding, you stayed back in the house as the rest of your family followed the ambulance to the hospital.

The front door shut, jiving out the little cries of your stressed mother. You uttered a soft apology her way. You'd wake yourself up in time.

The sooner the better. Or so you thought. As the door shut you also recalled the thought that you may not be alone in the house.

You toed around the home. Fear trickled down your neck in the form of sweat as your heart beat painfully in your chest. Was that man here still? Was that man even real?

You ransacked the place as best as you could. You learned that your actions were limited. The things you managed to touch were moved in such a superficial manner that it might as well not have even been moved at all. To test such a theory you knocked over a chipped ceramic vase and it's flowers. The object did collapse under the pressure of your palm, shattering in the kitchen floor, spilling water and dying white roses over the tile. But in a slow sensational movement, the base reconstructed itself. It gathered its water back and the flowers became revitalized. Without being touched, the vase flew to its original position with the white flowers looking healthier than ever.

This had to be a sickening sort of dream. Perhaps Laura wasn't dead. Perhaps she'd shown up last night and given you a hefty dose of some sort of drug that was making you dream of such strange happenings.

Honestly; life had turned into a Wonderland; it was like looking through the goddamn looking glass. Nothing made sense, nothing even looked right as you started to look around more and more.

Nauseous and tired you retreated to your bedroom. Confident you were alone, you sank to your bed.

Now what? Maybe your best bet was to get to the hospital and rejoining your body. Helping out to figure out Laura's death.

Proper grief hadn't settled in. You hadn't accepted that she was dead because you couldn't really belive any of this was actually happening.

The blood trickling down your feet as you fell deeper and deeper, the blood being lapped up by the strange MAN-

Your vision went black and suddenly you were opening your eyes again. Laying in the bed, in your bedroom.

The wicker basket on your chest, sifting down as you stirred. You caught it this time.

Sitting straight up, you pushed the wicker basket to the side and kicked off the sheets.

Thick, jagged scars on both of your feet. The bottoms were marred by the glass of the vodka bottles, which at the current were sitting by your side, not broken.

You touched your shoulders and your chest. You punched a roll of fat on your arm, feeling the pain and assuring yourself that this was really happening. Whatever had gone on before was a dream. A terrible, vivid dream.

There was a commotion outside your door. Your heart sank when you heard the voice of your mother. "Let's just wake them up and break the news easily..."

The door to your bedroom slid open and in walked all the members of your family.

Your toddler sister toddles to the bed, holding true to her role. She climbed into your lap as you suppressed tears.

Two officers followed behind.

Your heart flopped over with anguish as you recognized each of the men from your dream. The realization dawned on you that it was all real. It had happened.

With a heavy heart, you informed both of the men: "Laura's dead."

The lingering figures exchanged a strange glance to each other.

"Is it true?" You asked as your sister pushed her face into the crook of your neck, mumbling gibberish as the sheriff slowly nodded his head.

Your chest felt like it was struck with something heavy. Something in your mind splintered as you silently cried, clutching your small sister as she wiped her sticky hands on your face. "Don't cry," she said. "Carrie will come back."

You shook your head, smiling bitterly at her naivety. "Her name was Laura. Not Carrie."

She shook her head again. "That's not what the nice owl told me."

With wide eyes, you stared at your sister and tried to get her to tell you more about the nice owl. "Don't talk to them," you commanded her. Her little eyes filled with tears as your mother pried her away from you.

"The owls are my friends," she shrieked as her mother gently pushed her into the hallway. She continued her indignant stories of the nice owl who told her Laura wasn't Laura at all, but a woman called Carrie. Her voice drowned out as she was offered pancakes for breakfast.

"Is Laura really dead?" You asked the officers. You wiped your face over and over, the years continuing to fall even as your voice remained apathetic. It was a bad defense mechanism that you couldn't shake. In spite of the shock of it all, the only thought you had in mind was how. How did Laura die? What the hell happened?

Maybe you should have gone looking for her when she failed to show up to your meeting place in the forest. Maybe you could have gotten to her in time.

Laura had always seemed like the type who could take care of herself. She had a knack for getting out of bad situations, ones she had often gotten herself into in the first place. She'd always done her best to bring you down into her dirty deeds, claiming it's all more fun with a friend. Donna Hayward just-

"-isn't enough." Laura puffed a cloud of smoke out. It faded into the crisp air as her bare feet dangled over the edge of your roof. "I love her. But I don't think she'll ever really know me. Not the way do you. She sees me. She knows what I get up to. But it's like she doesn't care; no, that's not right. It's not that she doesn't care. It's more Iike she just doesn't notice. She's too naïve to realize what's going on And then when it comes to you, it's like you notice everything."

Your face burned as you looked away from her. "You're my best friend," you said impulsively, but something else simmered in your chest. Laura laughed; a real laugh, a girlish giggle as she puffed her cigarette again.

"I think that you're the only one who will ever see me for what I am and accept it."

You peered to Laura with raised brows. "Alright," you said, choosing to humor her. "What are you?"

Laura cast you a grin. "Burned."

Something so bad that only you could see it. Someone so bad she never spoke the name. You'd always figured she'd been through something, and that's why she "acted out." And as for her partying? You didn't actually expect it to be dangerous. After all, what could a teenage girl really do around here? Unless she was in much deeper than you'd thought.

"Can you come to the station? We'd like to have a formal discussion with you."

The officer's words chilled your bones. Your dream told you something that perhaps gave you the upper hand. You were going to be a suspect based on the sole reason why you'd been out last night. At least now you're awake to tell the story yourself.

As you quickly dressed for the outing, you looked at your open window.

That man's face kept flashing through your mind; the imprint of him had been burned into your eyelids. Closing your eyes just broadcasted the inverted image of him.

Of the freak in your dreams. The freak in your house.

"You don't know what kind of freaks could be in your own house, Y/n."

You regarded Laura with confusion. "What's that mean?"

"It means that you're too pure for this world," Laura informed you with a swish of her blonde hair. "I've seen dirty things. Done dirty deeds. Heard dirty words. But you're the purest thing in all my life, you know that?

That's why I wanna make sure you're ready to face him. There will come a day when you have to meet the freak in your house."

"Who's the freak in my house?" You asked. Your voice was a whisper.

"The same one that's in mine, of course." Laura momentarily sounded lost.

She looked out into the mountains. "Let's just run away."

"We should graduate first," you said knowingly. "But after that...yeah. Let's do it."

"I don't know if I can wait that long," she sighed. "But I know you will."

"How do you know that?" You teased.

She elbowed you in the ribs as you rolled your eyes at her.

"Because you love me. And because I love you. We're meant to be, don't'cha know? I do love you," she said. "And I know you love me too. You'd do anything for me."

"I'd walk through fire for you," you told her in a gentle voice.

But her eyes hardened. Her face strained upon hearing your words. "Don't walk with the fire, Y/n," she said in a soft commanding voice. "Don't you ever."

[the-slasher-files]

THE INNOCENT - ANDREI

Hello friends, I am extremely nervous to post this but I have been putting this together for a while now and I just wanted to showcase Andrei's feelings about the war. I knew that when this began I had to put this character away for a while because it never seemed right at all. First of all, I 100% support Ukraine, I am Ukrainian myself and I have donation links at the end of this so if you can even spare a dollar the links are there. Andrei is fictional, obviously but this weighed heavy on me to think about what Andrei would do. This is open-ended and I want you to decide what happens at the end, I also want the conversation to be open if you're comfortable. People are in the middle of this war and it is not an easy topic so if you can read it, I am very glad but if not, I completely understand as well. Hopefully, this makes Andrei more of a character with more depth and hopefully you enjoy🔪💕 My asks are always open if you would like to chat about this fic or my others

The air was heavy and he saw it coming for months. Prideful leaders rule from iron thrones with fool's gold crowns, trying to play life as if it were an insignificant board game to conquer one's territories. He had seen this many times before and saw it firsthand how his motherland ruined so many, and all for what? Money? Pride? Loyalty? Honour?

Thousands of lives had been within the crossfire not knowing if the streets were safe or if a missile would be launched into their home or if a husband could flee the country with his 6-month-old child; Wrapped in blankets made from his grandmother's fabrics, rosy cheeks that became red from a cold breeze and crying, not sure when the next meal was coming. They were the innocent. Lost and scared, holding onto hope when the rest of the world turned its back, and that he could relate. A lone wolf outcast among frozen lands on which he fought for, protected and served.

The old farmhouse door creaked open - white paint cracked and chipped as the old screen mesh was torn from left down and flapped on the winter wind - slamming back to the frame as he didn't care, the sound seemed to be muted behind all the thoughts that circled his dangerous brain. A danger to itself, but also a danger to others and that was something he had proved time and time again, just ask the bodies that were left covered in muddied puddles of water, tread by the Russian tanks that invaded unfamiliar towns full of the unaware. This dangerous brain was only a threat to the host at the moment as the other side was turned off, a response to the memories that flooded back like tsunamis in this time of war yet again. This time, it was so different. The soldier was no longer within his squad, they were all gone now, and he had a family, a pack that accepted him and tried to help when he was at his worst. Something he still could never get used to.

Black combat boots stalked along the weathered wooden porch, his steps were not commanding as they usually were, they were softer and almost like he did not want to disturb the quiet that was his land; A baren abandoned town that was built to serve the war efforts, making ammunitions as the people tried to make it home even through tyrannical leaders and horrific conditions, but in the end, people left it. Leaving the ghosts of family members behind with the most gentle reminders of the humans that stayed there, like children's toys and family photos framed on cracked walls. This place had seemingly met its match when the wolf stumbled into town looking for refuge. Seeking a home. Ironic for what he did... back then. Everyone deserves a home, however, those were never thoughts that crossed his mind as he was the man behind the gun.

The wolf's body was slumped. Not standing to his full confident height that screamed of his dominance but he displayed a weak form, one wounded and struck. Andrei knew he couldn't do anything this time, he would be executed the moment he stepped foot on the battleground and his side was undetermined. Russian loyalty, honour, strength and courage ran through his veins where being a coward was worse than death, but what did he have to lose now? He fled from his own death, turned his back on his blood, was bisexual and killed his brothers in arms. Coward. It was practically branded into his porcelain skin as he lived each day hiding and protecting his family. And that was just it, to add to the turmoil in his head, he had a family now, they were his life and he was helpless.

Andrei pulled the carton of white Winston cigarettes from his beige military jacket, specks of rust-coloured stains could not be removed from the rough fabric as much as he tried. Learning to live with the bloodstains was just another daily occurrence as the soldier kept the screams of the dead down on most days but now it seemed deafening. Worn hards lit the cigarette once it was placed between Andrei's pale pink lips, inhaling the strong bittersweet taste of his favourite generational addiction.

Taking a few steps forward and down a stair of the porch, the wolf sat with a groan. His body felt heavy, muscles ached from pure tension he couldn't release as he used to. A raw desire laid quietly between his bones and seeped from old scars was somehow dulled when it should be at its peak. Only a numbness overcame him as Andrei's ice blue eyes watched the heavy snowflakes fall in a dull wind. He remembered the flakes of ash from the burning homes falling on the bodies as his country laughed, he laughed with them riding on the tanks.

Muted footsteps carefully came from behind and a warm body sat next to him as he smoked the toxic tobacco. A new sweet smell overcame him as he turned his head slowly to see the woman he was absolutely enamoured with. Xaviera Lah-Mo, now Xaviera Kulokova, or that's at least what he called her never being able to officially sign papers.

"The babies are down for a nap and I made you some tea, my wolf" She softly spoke, handing him the grey coffee mug into his large hand from her small one, knowing everything going on was affecting the love of her life more than words could ever say. Xavi felt it.

Andrei simply nodded, turning his head to the right, pulling the cigarette that hung loosely from his lips to exhale the thick white smoke away from her. Hot ash fell onto the snow, making it melt beside his boot and blue, tired eyes gazed out into the vastness of his land, he was so far from here within his head. Xaviera sighed seeing the great wolf torn open and nothing but a bleeding, exhausted shell of himself. Her dreamy soft blue eyes examined the tension in his body, taking the burning cigarette that was becoming all but just a stump and throwing it in the snow, not wanting Andrei to burn himself as he was lost.

"Andrei..." She tested, seeing a small flinch reaction in the muscle.

Drawing his attention towards her, the Russian only glanced in her all-knowing eyes before looking at how the wind tangled between her long white hair. This was submission, he couldn't face what was on his mind, for her to know. He could hear them crying out, all the souls wasted.

"Want to talk about it?" Xaviera's voice was peaceful and like whispers in the wind.

She never pressured him no matter what he did and Andrei couldn't say just how much he was grateful for her. This woman was his life, truly the only one that could tame him in rough times, but this was beyond the depths even she could reach. He never knew his life could change so much for a partner and for the better. Knowing that, Andrei tried desperately to hold her and give Xavi the life she needed and deserved every day, however, the thought always lingered of 'is this enough?'. Meeting on the frozen mountains and wanting to kill her to having twins and calling himself a husband wasn't his life plan, and no one would ever think it was, they even told him.

With a deep breath, his eyes finally met and held hers. Heavy bags lay beneath the red dull orbs. Andrei parted his lips as to speak, but no words would come except a cracked sigh. The beautiful woman before him almost seemed like a daydream between the nightmares because of everything she did for him. He couldn't leave... Yet, he needed to go.

Delicate fingers brushed the ashy brown hair away that rested on his brow bone, she could feel torture more than ever since this war started. He wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat and he wasn't the same man but the little snow leopard never even thought about leaving his side for a second and that's what hurt the most. Giving Andrei a few moments to feel the skin on skin he reached up to hold her hand in his; Twice the size, broken and scarred compared to the soft, gentle beauty were worlds apart.

"Xav..." He took a sharp inhale as his rough thumb ran over her knuckles "I don't-- I don't know what to do"

Andrei admitted in a whisper, closing his eyes and turning his head not to break. The frustration and shame of all of his emotions and thoughts began to bubble up, making the solider rise from the porch and walk off the steps leaving the hot mug and her hand behind, now just standing in the snow and looking at the ground then to the grey sky in hope for an answer.

"There is noth-" She began to speak but he quickly snapped towards her.

"Don't say that!" Andrei tensed his jaw, he never meant to sound so rough and cold with her, it just made him more frustrated within the helplessness "...Fuck... sorry" he whispered and leaned on the front of his old black range rover slipping his destructive hands into the pockets for his black cargo pants.

"Just-"

"I know, I'm sorry too," She too placed her mug on the old floorboards and got up to stand in front of the towering wolf with broken eyes. "I shouldn't have said that. My wolf, I never meant that"

Xaviera lifted up her ever warm hands to cup Andrei's stubbled cheeks, fingers grazing over pink, shiny scars and their gaze met again. There was indecision, fear, helplessness and the sense of needed freedom etched into his features and she tensed. A wash of strength found him and she swallowed, knowing what was about to come. The wolf had the face of a warrior once more for something he was so uneasy about and was not sure he was with his country anymore but only time would tell. All he knew was to go fight, that was what the wolf of the north was built for, but Andrei remembered his father; He left the life of war for him, for love, to raise and protect a family despite what others had said.

Blue eyes became cold with drips of guilt, and when he speaks, it's quiet, so much unlike the usual dominating growl of the wolf:

"I... I gotta go"

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

WAYS TO DONATE TO UKRAINE:

- The Red Cross

- International Medical corps

- 736 project

- Project Hope

- UNICEF

- World Central Kitchen

- International Humane Society

[mouse-fantoms]

That Time Of The Year

Phantoms during the holiday season, new meaning

Julie nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I will NEVER get used to that.” She said in response to seeing Luke on the couch as she walked into the living room with a box.

“My bad.” He apologized.

She carried the box with her and set it down on the table beginning to open it.

“What’s that?” He wondered.

From the cardboard box she pulled out a red bobble. “Ordaments!”

She noticed his reaction, “Oh... this early?”

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that early...” she said beginning to put ordamendments on baren tree.

“Sorry... it’s just-” she noticed how he seemed to hesitate.

“You don’t need to get into it if you don’t want to.” She assumed it had something to do with the past, a touchy matter.

“But I want to.” He let her know. “When I ran out on my parents... it was around this time.”

“Oh...” She understood. “...maybe you can work on associating it with something else.” She offered.

He cocked his head curiously. She held out a blue ordament in her hand. He stared blankly at it.

“Come here.” She gestured her head.

He got up from the couch and went over to her. He tried to grab the ordament however his hand went right through. However after a few attempts, he finally got a hold of it. Julie stepped aside from being in front of the tree. He looked at her for what to do next. She looked to the tree then back at him hoping he’d get the hint. He hung the blue bulb on the open branch in front of him, he then looked to her for gratitude.

“You want to help me put more on?”

He hesitated but then a smile adorned his face, “Yeah... that would be nice.”

They shared a smile as they began to pull more ordaments from the box and place them on the tree together wherever there was open space on the tree.

“Wow.” They heard someone from the couch say. They turned their heads to see that Reggie had decided to poof in.

“Like it?” Julie smiled.

“It looks nice.”

“Want to help?”

“No thanks... I’m- I’m alright.” Luke immediately saw his uncertainty to answer.

“The invite still applies you know.” He said.

He nodded understanding. “I know.”

Julie felt like she was in the middle of some sort of second code. “Decided to get away time from dad?” She decided to change the subject.

“Yeah, he started to look up presents for you guys and I didn’t want to intrude.”

“That reminds me!” Julie remembered. “What do you guys want?”

“What?” Luke asked confused.

“You want to get us something?” Reggie wanted to clear it up.

“Yeah...” she was confused as to why they were.

“You don’t have-”

“But I do." She interrupted Luke. “You guys are important to me.”

Reggie and Luke smiled at her calling them important in her life.

“It’s been awhile.” Luke had a hard time remembering the last time he was asked.

“Pretty sure we’ll be happy with whatever you get us.”

Just then Ray entered the room.

“Starting early?” He asked seeing his daughter had already began to decorate.

“I couldn’t resist.” She shrugged.

He noticed how much of the tree was decorated in the short of time. Especially the ordaments that where placed higher than his daughter’s height.

“Had help?”

Her smile answered his question.

“Are they...?”

Seeing the blue ordament move from the box to the tree he got his answer.

“Hi Luke.” He smiled.

Learning the truth about his daughter’s band was... interesting to say the least. Luckily though, he got pretty used to the idea fairly quickly. The boys had brought music back into her life. They brought his little girl back. Not that he directly owed them anything but they had done so much for his daughter. It was always touching knowing that they weren’t only a band but friends too. Of course, since learning of them, Ray and Carlos were constantly curious if they were around. Julie couldn’t blame them but it did get repetitive after awhile so instead a system was emplaced especially after Ray learned that Reggie likes to hang with him.

He decided to leave a notebook out with a pen so that Reggie could let him know if he was there. It didn’t take long for the others to also chat with Ray. He left out many different colors of pens but Reggie seemed to always go for the red, Luke the blue and Alex the pink. It was already pretty clear who’s writing was who’s but it was always nice to see the different colors of writing. It was refreshing whenever Julie came home and he would hear, “Luke stop pushing Alex. Alex stop telling Reggie that it’s your to turn to- ok all of you will get a turn to talk to das if you just wait.”. Out of anything for the boys to “fight” over that was probably the best option.

“Should have known.” He added when learning that it was Luke who was helping her with the tree. “Are Reggie and Alex...”

“Reggie’s on the couch.” she told him, “He was with you until you started to look at gifts for Carlos and I, he didn’t want to intrude.”

“You could have been talking to me.” He looked in the direct of where he assumed Reggie was.

There was silence as Julie was listening to what Reggie was saying in order to translate it to him.

“Sometimes he just likes to be by you... it’s comforting.”

“...well in that case be by me as much as you want.”

“Also stay around as long as you want if it means seeing what we get.” Carlos had come from the kitchen into the living room overhearing the conversation.

“Carlos...” Ray began.

“Just a suggestion.” He put his hands up in defense.

Julie let out a laugh, “It’s not like he would say anything if he did see something.” she paused hearing what Reggie was saying. “He wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Oh yeah!” He dad remembered hearing the word surprise. “Did you...”

“Yes I did, I already have it covered.”

Luke’s eyebrows furrowed guessing what was being talked about. “You guys both really don’t have to get us any-”

“But we want to Luke.” She looked heartwarmingly behind her to him. “Please?”

He couldn’t deny the look in her eyes.

“They’re having one of their moments.” Carlos whispered to his dad which Julie gave a response via a glare. She looked over to Ray as a hint to tell him to scold him.

“How many times have I told you to not get involved in your sister’s realationship?”

“DAD!”

“Hey,” he looked to his son already pushing him towards the door, “why don’t we head to the store to pick up some of those decorations?” He wanted to change the subject.

“Ooo!” Reggie perked up. “I wanna go too!” Luke and Julie watched him poof away as Ray and Carlos left through the front door.

“Glad he can at least do that.” Luke said to himself with a warm smile once his friend poofed away.

Julie looked to him curious.

“Back when he was alive,” she noticed how he paused, “his parents were always shouting at each other. He would come late at night to the studio to join Alex and I. We always told him that he could come more often if he needed to and he’d just nod. The amount of Christmas’ we would spend in that garage. It would be a no brained for Alex and I and we’d always remind him that he was invited.”

Reggie hanging out with Ray, Luke earlier telling him that the invite still applied and turning down the offer of decorating the tree all suddenly made a lot of sense.

“It’s just nice to see that he doesn’t mind going with your dad and brother to do Christmas-y shopping.”

“So you guys have always spent Christmas with each other?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah... guess we have. But now-”

She shared his smile, “Now?”

He handed her an ordament to put up. As the two continued to accessorize the tree, Julie thought about how much of a change this Christmas was compared to past ones. Sadly, it would be one without her mom, but she’d be spending it with 3 of the most amazing guys in the world. She kept in mind that after she be very very sure that the gifts in her room were extra extra hidden (just in case). At least the blue beanie, gay pride pin and a The Child plushie were all already wrapped.

At least she’d still be spending the season with her family, that hadn’t changed even with the 3 new additions in her life.

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — Four: Spicy Ramen

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 3.5k 

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 4 / 15

Warnings — language

A/N  — Taglist has been added to the bottom of the post. It’s open for anyone who wants to be added! Comment, message, or ask and I’ll get you on there :)

Previous — Next

That night, you dream a different dream.

It's not full of death or murder, of the art museum or the crimson fountain, of fear and loss. This dream is full of new love and wishes, of magic and freedom, of Paris and the Chateau. It ends with a kiss instead of blood. It leaves you feeling rested instead of exhausted.

And it's the first time it's happened in this lifetime.

You wake, not in a cold sweat but in a hazy daze, with a tingling sensation on your lips. And despite the justifications you try to use to make sense of it all, that feeling remains there the whole morning.

It's enough to distract you for hours. From brushing your teeth to crossing the street to grabbing coffee, you're frazzled and dreamy all at once. 

"Say you'll come. Say you'll run away with me."

His words echo over and over in your mind. The boy in last night's dream, though younger than you've seen him, is the exact same one as you usually see. And he's Kim Taehyung. You might've been doubting yourself before, but this time you're sure of it.

"I'll go anywhere with you."

Your resolve strengthens as you enter Big Hit HQ, scanning your employee badge to gain access to the elevator. You did make the right choice to move to Seoul, to get this job, to risk it all for answers. Half of you had started to believe you were going insane...but after that dream?

You haven't lost your mind. In fact, you're closer to having a full grasp on the truth than you've ever been.

The morning passes quickly, and eventually, you're able to muster enough focus to get some of your to-dos handled early on. The office is almost completely bare on Sunday. You weren't surprised; most of your coworkers were probably at home relaxing, enjoying their last day off before the Monday madness. But you knew this coming week was going to pick up due to Map of the Soul: 7. If you could go down the list and get ahead of the curve, you knew that future-[Y/n] would thank you by Wednesday.

What you don't expect is to have Director Hyeon pop her head into your office just as you settle back into your chair with a cup of instant noodles.

"Knock knock!" she announces cheerily, eying your lunch. "Sorry, didn't realize you'd taken lunch. I can come back—"

You shake your head and put your chopsticks down. "—No, please! What can I help you with, Director?"

"You're part of the Big Hit family now, call me Misun," she insists with a smile. "I was actually hoping I might find you here. I have a few people I want you to meet, and the baren weekend office is absolutely perfect. Can you spare a few minutes?"

"Um, sure!" 

You push away from your desk and follow the petite woman to the common area down the hall. It's a space with cafeteria tables, lounge chairs, and a full kitchen for staff to use on their breaks. Usually, it's packed full of people for the two hour period around which most people take their lunch. However, due to the weekend, it seems that only a handful of people are using it.

But today's handful isn't your usual coworkers. You recognize most of them, but not from work. Well, not exactly. 

Your legs freeze and your eyes go wide, realizing that the entire band has decided to make themselves at home in the lounge and prep for a mid-day meal. Jin and Jungkook are puttering on the other side of the counter, searching the cabinets for pots and pans. Jimin and Taehyung are unloading a few bags worth of groceries onto the island. Namjoon is talking with two older men, whom you assume are their mangers. Hoseok and Yoongi are sitting on the bar stools at the island, laughing abut something on Hoseok's phone.

The entire group is oblivious to your entrance, but Misun waves down one of the older men and pulls him from his conversation with Namjoon. She gestures to you as he approaches.

"Sejin, this is [Y/n] [Y/l/n]," she introduces. "She's our new production assistant. [Y/n], this is Kim Sejin. He's the band's primary manager."

Sejin flashes a smile and casually bows as a greeting. "Nice to meet you, [Y/n]."

You mirror his polite gesture. "Likewise, Manager Sejin."

"I was hoping that Sejin might be able to introduce you to the boys," Misun explains. "That way you can get to know them before we start filming next week."

"I saw that on the schedule," you add. "That's for 'Run,' right?"

Misun nods. "I know it's only your second week, but it would be good for you to get a feel of the production side. No better place to do that then in the chaos that is 'Run BTS!'"

"I agree," Sejin says. "Especially since we all have to fly out on the 18th to go back to the U.S. for the Grammys and their various public appearances. Fallon, Corden, it's going to be a busy few weeks. And I just found out that a couple of the assistants we usually take are unavailable. I was hoping, if you think you're ready, you might be willing to come to America with us?"

He ends it as a question, clearly giving you the option to say no. Realizing this is the best chance to get the answers you're searching for, you smile confidently and give an assured nod.

"You can count on me. Besides, I speak both languages fluently. I could be more than just a production assistant."

"Then it's settled!" Misun claps her hands, catching the attention of some of the boys, who give various looks of intrigue. "Sejin, get everyone acquainted. Even if it's just for a half-hour if your schedule allows nothing else. I have a committee meeting to get to, so I'll leave you with that."

As Misun exits the room, Sejin nods his head towards the rest of the group, a polite smile on his face. "C'mon. I'll introduce you."

You swallow visibly, your gaze shifting from the manager to the boys in the background. Particularly to the one already looking intently your way. Curly dark hair and deep brown eyes, you'd know this particular face anywhere.

"Everyone," Sejin calls, getting the attention of the others, particularly to Jungkook and Jin who are bickering over how to properly cook ramen, "I have someone I want you to meet." He gestures to you. "This is [Y/n] [Y/l/n]. She was hired last week as a production assistant. She's going to be on-scene for tomorrow's Run filming, and she's going to come with us to the States."

He turns back to you and gestures to each of the boys in turn. "[Y/n], these are Kim Seokjin, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Taehyung. And the wonderful man behind them is Song Hobeom, another of the band's managers. You'll be working with him a lot as well."

Each of the boys waves politely, and some say hello aloud. They seem a bit shy and reserved, which isn't something you expected from them—if you expected anything at all.

You return the gesture, flashing a small smile and saying, "Nice to meet you all," in your best natural, Seoul dialect. God, you wanted to make a good first impression.

"Are you American?" Seokjin asks abruptly.

Jimin turns to the eldest member with wide eyes, muttering something along the lines of, "Don't be so rude." Yoongi merely rolls his eyes at his hyung, and Hoseok gives an apologetic look in your direction.

"No, it's okay," you reply, knowing that you probably were going to get this question at some point, despite your efforts. "I am. I only moved to Seoul a little over a week ago, but don't let my looks fool you. I've been speaking Korean for years."

"She's fluent in both languages," Sejin nods. "I see her being a huge help, especially to you, Namjoon."

Namjoon is the first to walk over and greet you with a wide grin, showing off his dimples in the process. He extends his hand in an American-style greeting, obviously happy to meet you half-way.

"Welcome to Seoul," he states in perfect English, his accent slightly lilted in a region you can't quite specify. "I hope we haven't put you off too badly already, but if you can forgive our—" he nods over his shoulder towards Seokjin, "—brashness, then I have to say: you and your bilingual skills are more than welcome here."

His comment makes you chuckle as you retract your hand. Seeing that everything is going well, the managers take their leave to their respective offices, telling them they need to work out a few more details for the shoot tomorrow. 

Already feeling more at ease, you change your language to his as to reciprocate the same respect. "I'm sure you get pretty damn tired translating all the time."

The lilac-haired man groans and slouches his shoulders. "You have no idea!" Turning towards the group, he waves you over. "Misun mentioned something about interrupting your lunch break as she left. Jin and Jungkook make the best ramen. As an apology, join us for lunch?"

"Hope she can take the heat," Seokjin chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows. "I've found that most Americans aren't used to Korean-level spices."

You cross your arms and flash a confident look. "Is that a challenge?"

"It is if you want it to be."

Jungkook groans, "Hyung, be nice!"

At that, Seokjin merely rolls his eyes. 

"Keep rolling your eyes," Yoongi chimes in with a smirk. "Maybe you'll find a brain up there."

Before the eldest can muster a sarcastic response to the next-oldest member's comment, you shake your head. "No, no, I got this. My best friend at home is Korean-American, so I basically grew up with Korean food through her. I'm used to it."

Both Jimin and Hoseok give cheers of approval, the latter pulling out a stool for you to sit on between him and Taehyung. You gladly take the chair but are off-put by Taehyung's continued silence and apprehensive aura. He continues to throw glances your way, the odd expression never quite leaving his face, though he attempts to mask it.

"She's got more balls than you when it comes to spicy food, Seokjin," Hoseok laughs.

Looking offended, Seokjin places his hands on his hips in a sassy manner. "Oh, really? I'll bet you 100,000 won that I can outdo the new girl. You and me, Jagiya: a competition of who can eat the spiciest ramen. You in?"

The other boys turn and stare expectantly in your direction, even Namjoon who is clearly apprehensive about the first impression they're giving you.

You rest your elbows on the counter and your chin on your folded hands, giving off an aura of confidence and ease. "Bring on your worst, Kim."

"Oooh, you're going to wish you hadn't said that." Seokjin grabs the large cooking spoon from the counter with a sly grin, waving it at the youngest member. "Step aside, Kookie. This is a job for Worldwise Handsome Master Chef."

Jungkook raises his hands in defeat and scurries back to the group, perching on the stool nearest the oven. 

"Dear god, what have you done?" Yoongi asks.

"You've awakened the competitive monster inside Jin," Hoseok states, turning to you. "There's no stopping him now. Start praying to the Scoville gods, [Y/n]!"

Namjoon looks completely done with his members, especially Jin, as he runs a hand through his colorful hair with a groan. "Seokjin, this was supposed to be an apology for being abrasive and standoffish, now you're making things worse."

Seokjin shrugs, giving an innocent look as he begins boiling the noodles on the stove. "She, quite literally, asked for it. And who am I to deny a pretty lady what she wants?"

The youngest member, along with Jimin and Yoongi, groan at Seokjin's attempts to be suave, making you chuckle all the more.

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

The brunet gives you a playful wink. "You haven't seen anything yet, Jagiya."

Taehyung shifts in his chair at Seokjin's words, and Hoseok turns to face you as pots and pans clatter in the kitchen. "Well, since he's in the middle of losing his mind, tell us a bit about yourself?"

You do just that. You share a little bit about where you're from, what you studied, your home, friends and family, interests outside of work and the like. A bit of everything is covered. Most of the group reciprocates throughout the conversation. You end up learning just as much about them as they do about you. You might've started out nervous and shy, but the more you converse and the more time you spend with them, you realize they're just normal twenty-somethings. Sure, they're famous and on another level creatively, but in the end, they're ordinary guys.

"Why are you putting the beef in the oven?" you inquire of the oldest a little while later. "There's no part of ramen that requires an oven. At least, not that I've seen."

"Because if I bake the beef with the spices, the heat goes up by a thousand!" Seokjin raises his chin triumphantly as he slides the pan into the oven. "It's my secret, and I am the chef, so don't question my genius."

Yoongi snickers, "I think we can agree there's only one true genius in this group, and that's Namjoon."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Which one of us is the only one to have a bachelor's degree and is currently working towards a master's?"

Your eyes widen. "Wow, that's actually really impressive!"

Seokjin looks like a showy bird at the compliment. "See? Impressive. I like you. You can stay."

"But you're still going to make her eat your noodles of pain?" Jimin laughs.

"Absolutely! I have my honor to protect. No going back now." He leans down to see the selections on the oven. "So, I can either bake it at 200 degrees Celcius for 10 minutes or 2000 degrees for 1 minute."

The youngest's eyes bulge with concern. "No, that's not how you use the oven."

"Floor it?"

"No!"

"How about 2,000,000 degrees for one second?"

"Kim Seokjin, you are going to burn the entire office down!"

"Relax, it won't work, you idiots."

"I'm going to harness the fucking sun to make this ramen!"

"Annnd there goes any form of a good first impression, down the drain with Seokjin's dignity."

You burst into laughter, nearly falling off your stool in the process. Taehying grabs your arm before you fall, and Hoseok stabilized your chair. Wiping the tears of laughter from your eyes, you thank them both.

"I haven't had this good of a time in a while," you giggle as Seokjin finishes the last details of the ramen.

"At least we can provide entertainment," Yoongi states sarcastically. "We're not usually this bad, I swear."

Namjoon agrees, "We're all a bit tired from New Year's Rockin' Eve and the Golden Disk Awards."

"Not to mention both before and after that has been non-stop work on the comeback," Hoseok adds. 

"Even if you were, I wouldn't mind," you reply, placing your palms against your cheeks. "My face hurts from smiling and laughing for so long."

"Well get ready for another level of pain, because voila!" Seokjin slides a bowl of ramen in front of you, handing you a soup spoon and a set of chopsticks. "Get ready to hurt, [Y/n]. You're going down."

Less than half an hour later, you're beaming with pride and 100,000 won richer than before. Seokjin has raised his white flag of surrender in the form of a napkin, his face flushes scarlet from the spice. It seems he'd overdone it while trying to ensure your defeat. Needless to say, he completely underestimated your ability to eat—and enjoy, to his horror—the so-called "noodles of pain."

"Thanks for lunch, Jin!" you cheered after finishing your second helping. "That really hit the spot."

Seokjin leans against the counter and continues to press a small bag of crushed ice to his face. "You're not human."

The afternoon wraps up as the others finish their portions. Luckily for them, they'd all been given ramen made with a normal recipe instead of Seokjin's deathwish version. Manager Sejin returns after a couple of hours and tells the boys that they have to get a few more hours of practice in before the day's over.

"I need to get a couple of things wrapped up, too, so no worries," you say nonchalantly. "You guys go have fun."

"We need to do this again," Jungkook says cheerily, nodding a shy goodbye before following Sejin.

"I agree, this was a blast! Especially seeing Seokjin actually lose when it was his own cooking," Jimin chuckles. "See you tomorrow, [Y/n]!"

You wave after them, and Yoongi shakes his head as he turns to Seokjin. "You just had to go and try to show off, didn't you?"

"Shut up."

You put some new crushed ice into another bag and offer it to the oldest member with an apologetic smile. "One for the road?"

He takes it with a grateful expression, eyes soft despite the playful bickering going around. "You're all right, [Y/l/n]. You can stay."

Yoongi claps his hyung on the shoulder, nodding in agreement. "Jin's right. You sure you still want to travel with us?"

Nodding fervently, you reply, "Wouldn't miss it for the world!"

Hoseok walks towards you, arms opened slightly. "Are you okay with hugs?"

"Of course!"

Hoseok eagerly wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you can feel the infectious giddiness that fills him like sunshine personified.

"Hobiii!" Jimin calls from down the hall.

"The third-oldest pulls back, flashes a smile, then turns towards the others while shouting, "Hobi coming, Hobi coming!"

Namjoon walks over to you as Hoseok slips down the hall. The only other person still in the room is Taehyung, who lingers by the door. His eyes shift between the other member and you, a torn expression on his face. You'd be lying if you said you don't feel similarly on the inside. There will be a time to ask the questions you so desperately want answers to, but today isn't that day. It might ruin what you've created with the band, and that's the last thing you want to do.

The leader extends a hand, a piece of paper in his palm. "In case you need to get ahold of any of us, or if you just want to talk. I think I can trust you not to put these on social media."

You take the note and unravel it, seeing nine sets of telephone numbers with corresponding initials beside them. "Oh, wow! You trust me that much already?"

He nods. "We all got a good vibe from you, and Sejin says we'll need to work with you on socials and whatnot. It'd be easier to just give you our directs instead of working through him or Manager Hobeom every time, although I did include their numbers as well."

"All of you?" you clarify, eying the figure still lingering by the door, attention now on his cell phone. "I don't think he likes me very much. He hasn't said a single word to me."

Namjoon knows exactly who you're referring to, even without looking behind him. His voice lowers as he responds, "Taehyung has been dealing with a lot lately. We all have, but he's been exhausted and hasn't been sleeping well. And..." 

He trails off, shaking his head. "Nevermind. My point is, don't take his reclusive behavior too seriously. Taehyung is as kind as they come, but he might take a little while to warm up to you. That's just his nature, and his resting face is pretty intimidating." Namjoon taps the piece of paper. "Maybe try texting him. He's usually pretty good about responding there. Might feel more comfortable."

You fold the paper and slide it into your pocket, giving the lilac-haired man a nod and smile. "Thanks, Namjoon. And thank you for being so open to a newcomer. I know it can't be easy, letting someone else close to such a tight-knit group."

His dimples reappear at your words of gratitude. "I don't know what it is about you, but I feel we can trust you. So don't thank me." As he turns, he glances over his shoulder and murmurs, "Give Taehyung time. He'll come around."

Heaving a sigh of relief, you nod back at him. God, you hope he's right. 

When your eyes shift towards the exit, you see Taehyung slipping into the hallway ahead of Namjoon, disappearing into the dark.

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can​

[mister-lady]

ooh the drawings are great!! I don't know much about rottmnt! or well, any of the tmnt eras actually. are these two your favorite characters too or just f/os? what are they like? what's the show about?? i'm curious!

mgfnhmghm,,,!!! also!! haii!!! ilyilyy!!!! an i hope ur doing well!!!! an also tytytytyvvmm this was super fun answerrinnngggg!!!! also wow im sorry not sorry for the paragraphs i wrote, gushing about things (especially tmnt) is normally uh.. not often-ish so you broke the dam dfsksngkfj. /lh/nm am veri verie happie over this especialy after my dentist appointment so thank u lots, u always cheer me up even when u don mean too<<33 /nm/gen

im glad u think the drawings are goooddd >//,!!! kfgndfhkj i uh.. seem to have a repeated occurrence of getting into tmnt fdnskjdgnkj (i got into 2012 erra several times, almost got into 2003, and this is my second.. maybe third bouncing back to rottmnt? i think second dfkjdngkdfj).

uhm!!! yes sdkndfndfkjfd .///. why turtles? i dont know. why several times? not a clue. Brain likes turtles ig fsnkfdfg. Not crazy big f/os but 10/10 would do gay stuff fnkdnjkfdg. lowkey crush on raph too fngndjh

at first i jus liked donnie but you know me and only having one f/o from media isn’t legal sdsgdfgfh /lh/j oh gosh where to i begin- Leo is verie punny and cocky and almost smug in a sense an he has the whole “im the greatest guy ever but i won’t admit im actually insecure” thing going on. idk the right words for it but he’s like the clowning kid in class? many jokes and such and isn’t really serious in serious situations so u know when he does get serious it’s well.. verie serious fjndfjh. is also verie smooth gndkngdfjh

uhh Donnie is uhmm.. donnie djsdfnsjnjhg. he’s a hermit and normally is in his lab building or upgrading stuff. Oh!! also he is a soft shell turtle an that’s why he has the shell cover thingy that goes over his shoulders!! to protect his shell!!! He’s super blunt and forward and almost has a flat/robotic voice when he talks? Except there will sometimes be a moment where he gets passionate and gets all emotional fkjsg. verie deeply wants parental acceptance and probably the same from others and is also very “i dont give a crap what you think but lowkey i do” kinda guy ngkdfnj err... turtle-.he would probably shoot someone if he could. also Leo and Donnie are twins-

oh i lov the sshow- verie good character developement i lov the villians and everything, though im super sad that nickelodeon crushed the show for some reason so a lot of the episodes were rushed and it got rushed in general so it didn’t have the proper build up it deserved to the finally episode but they still pulled it off wonderfully and i still love it. it also has a lot of episodes of the characters goofing off and thats honestly the content i came for- tbh i wasn’t too big on Splinters design at first but i got used to it!! THE MUSICALLSS. theres no full-on musicals but the moments they do sing is great an i espeically lov Baren Draxum’s musical tid-bit- (he’s the main villain an he’s a new one to be introduced but all around fantastic)

[muffindaddystyles]

(CLANDESTINE CHAPTER TWO)

ᗩᑭᑭOIᑎTᗰᗴᑎT, ᖇᗴᗪ ᐯᗴᒪᐯᗴT ᗩᑎᗪ ᗰᑌᖴᖴIᑎՏ

𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚

Rhythmically mellifluous waves of notes echoes after bouncing back from anile theatre's walls, the trill getting softer the more I firmly place my chin over the tail piece.

Eye lids slip shutting at the flurries of heart chasing the last cadences, pinky shivering as the middle and ring finger pushes the string down while the bow touches through the strings simultaneously producing the last chords.

Feels like a voyage over a baby leaf that's leading me through a pallid wind.

My chest heaving vigorously and lifting my jaw from the violin my head snapped in the direction of loud claps flowing. After a hectic performance the seats went empty and instead of going backstage I tried to play a melody for myself.

I was so lost finding my way through strings that didn't even noticed when Azi came. He's the owner of this old hideously beautiful theatre, his love for arts has this place still running without compliance knowing else it would have left baren just like the other popular theatres they shut years ago.

"Well done Harry, people seemed to love your performance last night and today." A smile quenching from my inners causing the bottom lip to tuck in between my teeth.

A feeling like no other spiralling around my ribcages, this's all I ever wanted.

"They were properly soused into your magic and we know what that means, shit loads of money." I remained quite putting my violin and bow aside while he spoke with a tobacco cigar rolled in between his lips.

I never wanted to play for money but nor do I've problem if we're getting it because half of the people in theater needs it. They deserve it.

It's not their fault they've to die in return of loving the devotedness that's gifted naturally.

Their talent and adroitness is the only thing keeping them in this world even though they've to remain veiled from the ordinary people.

Azi drags the stash of money on the table in my direction causing me to shake my head in refusal, "you know that I don't need this money. Save it for the renovation of theatre before we all get buried deep under it." He laughs lungs rumbling from his old age.

For God's sake the ceilings are about to cripple and chandelier might bonk my head one day.

"Or' maybe double pay our ballerina she was prepossesing last night." The twitch of his wrinkles at the corners of eyes smoothed down sadly and he sighed loudly piercing a hole in my stomach.

Anticipation wrapped around my head shoving me into the sea of worry where I'm finding it difficult to process, "what happened-" my words choking in my windpipes when he cuts me off revealing the horror information.

"She was abducted last night, her body was found shot near the suburb of where she lives." Everything's feeling claustrophobic around me and I keep on gawking him in astonished dread.

She was one hell of the great dancers, the only ballerina of our theatre. She didn't not deserved this; fuck it nobody does. I refuse to believe.

Fuck this government. Fuck this stupid world.

Gripping my hair from roots I looked him straight in the eyes, "Tell me if her family needs any help." Then the realization dawned upon me like a heavy dust she never had a family. This theatre, her skills were her only family.

"Harry my boy listen I know you'll take it as a hard toll but believe me we can't do anything for what has happened, go home have a rest you've a performance in the coming month." I was taken aback when he hugged me assuring me like a father would do, not utterly sure how to respond to interactions like these I raised my hands several times only to let them fall back.

Memories of her on tips dancing beautifully on the stage displaying infront of me as I stored my violin into case putting it aside.

We weren't close. But the few times we had exchange of words in the middle of lunch breaks and her full concentration on my foolish jokes was worth than any friendships I ever had; which I unfortunately never had.

Without even noticing the whispers let out of my chest, "I'll miss ya." Never thought you could yearn to have a single glimpse of people last time even though they were barely in your life.

I didn't changed into comfortable clothes letting the flashy suit stick to my skin, so the weigh of it will keep on making me realize that the world has no place for us.

A sacrifice for living praise.

The alley outside's pitch dark with the sun roguishly trying to dawn from the horizon.

Azi Theatre's situated at the most lifeless spot in the city possible, you've to walk through several hidden allies to reach there.

While, walking past the streets and avoiding to ruin my trousers by splashing my boots into puddle my brain havoced with unnecessary thoughts.

Thousand of faces with erastz beauty passing in mili seconds on these vast fulgurant billboards their mocks appearing like arrows to my already wounded guts; though it's all in my head it's still crawling under my skin.

A peek of cognisance from the day she made me ate her red velvet muffins dizzied around in my mind painting sorrow over me.

Even though I protested with my nonsical excuses she won ending up handing me one of her perfectly shaped muffin on my palm with a huge grin.

Just like that alot of people's smiles in my life petered out in the lost pocket of my mind.

In the littlest remembrance of her I made route to the small bakery situated two blocks away from the building I live in. The city's sleeping the only thing's shop's boards blinking and hazy bakeries showing through the thick fog.

It's open twenty four hours seven. The sky tweeked with ribbons of brume and the digital clock showed 5:00 sharp in the early dawn the large glass windows fogy from weather. The counter lady's wrapped into a comfy blanket trying not to fall asleep.

The bell chimed startling the cute old lady when I stepped inside passing by the wooden counter, "uhh..hi sorry to disturb. I'll look in myself." She nodded slumping back into her seat soon about to knock off.

Strolling in between the squeezy aisles my eyes roamed over empty refrigerators ceasing to the one at the far corner.

There in the transparent domed box are four cherry-red muffins attracting every dull view of bakery towards themselves. They're perfectly shaped and snow-flaked into red coconut shudders but failed to water my mouth.

I've no appetite to eat them. Her's used to be baked into undescribeable funny shapes but atleast I had a company while chomping them in one bite.

A reel of same memory binging and before it could permanently imprint in my brain I cleared my throat raising my pointy finger as a habit, "I'll have these!"

We said in a unison. Hold on. We? Am I that exhausted that I've started to hallucinate.

My head snapshoting towards the person from whom the feminine voice billowed in the dense warm air.

Resplendent. Florid and kaleidoscopic were the first words that striked my confused mind when my vision raked from the faux suede ankle boots richer in pigment than the red velvet muffins resting inside the refrigerator; then straight towards to meet their eyes.

Her gaze projecting warmth in this wimtertide and out of curiosity I met her eyes to recognize their colour.

Golden syrup. They're like the glassed honey pool that has squeezed the bee in the syrup lake as if it's greed for honey became it's trap, hazel speckles caged inside the rim of irises flickering with her slightest of eye movement.

We both keeps on looking at eachother the morning peace surrounding us too unsure how to break the spell.

She's wearing a cerise peach long trench wool coat a sweet rose enamel pin attached to where her heart is. Her nose and ears pink from the cold outside, but her lips plump from under the translucent violaceous bubble gum coloured gloss.

Burnette tresses of hair loose till her covered shoulders, the peach tealed beanie intact on her head.

The women standing infront of me is in abstract contrast to the pastels of the bakery and the luster of gray buildings out of these bakery walls.

The pastelish hues still prominent in her and crimson peaked up my neck at the fact that she caught me intriguing her by my peer.

Boldly her eyes remained fixated at my suit that's very exotic for strolling into a bakery. She might think so I'm a bellend idiot.

The cashier lady came to us yawning placing her hands on her hips done with two strangers just looking at eachother but she doesn't know that both of them are inquisitive of what the other is wearing this early where anybody's barely awake.

"We've the only box, decide it quick kiddos that who'll get it." The lady yawned for fiftieth time taking the box of muffins out of refrigerator.

"I came here first and I was the first one to ask." I frowned for an obvious reason and the lady was about to give me the box when a honeyed voice again melted in my ears.

Now I really wanna hear her talk for a long time, "but I pointed at it first!" She whines softly jutting her lower lip.

"But vocalisation matters the most." I quipped arching my brow at her and she glared me but her beatific personality radiating naturally from her is breaking the bitter demeanour she's trying to pull towards me.

"Kay. We can leave it upto the rock, paper and siscorss." She smirks mishveously raising her brows several times in a challenge.

Her tongue poking out from her glossy lips with her one leg straight and other bended perpendicular she placed her on foot over another balancing with only one leg like a flamingo.

The cute small lady groaned, "are you really gonna do this?" Our eyes widening and chuckles spiraling when we once again we said 'yep.' In unison.

She was ready to launch her hand in a paper and mine was stone so I quickly interrupted looking down at her legs, "why are you standin' like a swan?" Her eyes slitting into a squint and lips shrinking into a pout.

Tilting her chin towards me and standing in the same position as before just the difference now's that her hands are on her hips to convey the offend.

She ruched her lower lip inside her mouth to stop from giving a smile, so she's a buoyant person...

"Because maybe I am?" And she doesn't have simple answers to straight questions. Our fists still raised into air and the cashier lady hissed this time ready to throw hands.

"You kids are worse than my grandchildren!" She gasped comically at the words of short lady.

"That's very mean of you..." I'm clearly surprised that she isn't one bit influenced by lady's sharpness instead she's further engaging in a conversation that will result in the loss of time for all of us. "...and your daughter wouldn't be very happy to know."

"Kay. Back to where we left." She quickly turned her head towards me her complete concentration struck over me making my stomach go fluttery and funny.

"Uhm..yes- rock, paper, siscorss!" I never thought I'd play a game with some stranger who's looking so cozy and comfy in the early dew, for some muffins in the middle of empty bakery when I scarcely interact with people.

"Yes! I won." I punched the air when my siscorss cut her paper and her jaw went slack for a moment.

What the fuck you're doing Styles!?

Out of shyness and awkwardness I abruptly combed back my curls rubbing my hand down the nape of my neck not meeting her eyes.

The lady handed me the box with a boring expression while Hers stayed ticked to it, "anyway I don't even like red-velvet muffins." Yeah. Grapes are sour when fox can't get it.

She was about to walk away near to step out of shop. I want to call her but don't know her name; so out of sheer rampage I blurted out the only word that the department of my brain could manage at the time.

"Swan!" She halted in her tracks torso turning and with her chin atop of her shoulder she looked back at me smiling coyly.

"Yes. Sparkly?" She's probably calling me that because of my glittery black suit and I'm sure my ribcages did something at the name. Getting made fun of doesn't sound very good; but it is at the time.

Today's an odd day.

"Um..we can share if you want to?" Her grin etching to the corner of her lips and she jumped excitedly clasping her hands together,"Really!?"

A timid smile crawling over my features watching her get delighted at the littlest of fact. "Yes. There are two pair of muffins we both can have one pair if you like to?" I told her and she bobs her head while going towards the cash counter, patting the counter with a huge grin indicating me to put the box down.

"Your total's $8.25." We both payed half of the total price and I shoved my hands into my trouser's pockets scrutinizing my surrounding while the annoyed cashier lady packed two muffins separately for one of us.

And she rummaged through her wallet which has alot of ebullient key-chains hanging from it, who's this girl?

Why I've never seen her here before? and I've never seen a person this cheerful in the crowd of prosaic people of city.

The lady handed us our respective delights with a roll of eyes and I was the first one to take mine and quickly sprinted out of there, because I didn't know what else to do.

A whiff of pungent vanilla, mulberry pomegranate sprouting with cocoa made it's way in my nostrils when I passed beside her. Her fragrance's divergent.

You know a scent that addictively clouds your senses but it's so rare you never get to smell it again; but if out of nowhere you get to it brings back nostalgia for no reason, she smelled like that.

When I glanced back the two women were still watching my weirdness in amusement through the glass windows of bakery.

It appeared like her rose enamel pin winked at me from far.

Mick was tangled up into cassette tapes when I stepped inside my flat, the tiny bugger he is jumped atop me straddling me to the floor.

"You're lookin' like a disco ball. No need to be so proud." Instead he gave a long slicky lick to my cheek woofing at me.

He's being too cheeky but it wouldn't last long when I'll take him for a checkup. He fucking envy his doc. I'm already sensing sympathy seeking whining from him, happens every year.

Shaking my head I grunted skiding from underneath him but he's fast and climbed up in my lap while I struggled to open the box.

The minute red hilly muffins were infront of me it reminded me of honey the ooze of golden, treacle eyes. Her eyes.

Shit. It's getting hard to get rid of her delicate image that's playing like an aesthetic reel in the back of my mind.

I was jerked into reality when Mick lurched greedily eating the delcious muffin from my hand in one bite, leaving his slickness at the tip of my fingers. Before he could attack my muffin too I quickly grabbed it.

"Mick you wouldn't believe what happened today!?" I spoke in an animated voice scratching his sweet spot under his ear my mouth full of red coconut and he looked up at me with his sick puppy eyes.

"We wouldn't have been able to eat these if I wouldn't have won from...." I stuttered pondering over the fact that the nameless peachy coat girl's too stubborn and wouldn't leave my fuzzy thoughts alone, "...from swan."

Mick just barked at me going to his sleeping pillow and I practically rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms to bring myself to some consciousness from that bloody bakery fantasy.

_

When the proper morning hit I made myself breakfast and the longer I stared it the more it impeded my appetite.

With one hand offering Mick treats to deceive him into the idea that I'll take him to the park for a walk which instead will end up in a clinic's room and other hand diligent in searching word puzzles over the newspaper my jaw worked to chew the sandwich.

Throwing a sweater over my head and slipping into white washed jeans quickly I got ready to take Mick with me.

I had to scoop Mick up in my arms when he sprawled onto footpath of veterinary clinic the second he realized what was about to happen.

The kid leaning against the wall giggled loudly watching me practically drag my dog across the floor because he's too socially akward, fucking wow.

The waiting area's already full of pupils alongside their pets, someone stood up from the last bench and taking the advantage of opportunity I strided towards it sitting at it's edge.

Fifteen minutes passed since I've been caressing and comforting my scared bud, tucking his crown under my chin to make him at rest.

There's loud raucous noise when the elevator doors to the floor we're at opened wide gaining everyone's attention and when the person in tizzy strided inside the corridor I had to look at her twice.

What the fuck she's doing here? She never owned a pet and the one for whom she'll get this worried about.

Lyida's exactly same, her eyes bright as always and she has become more striking from when she was with me.

But she's not mine now, she never was.

She lurched over the receptionist with the box in her hand and distress of having to meet her eyes creeped inside me. The girl beside me threw daggers at me when I stood up hastily causing the whole bench to shake. I apologised for the disturbance.

My hands fumbled with the knob of nearest door right beside me and I had to shush Mick sternly when he kept on whining.

Heavy puff of breaths escaping my lungs when I stumbled inside some empty doctor's room shutting the door behind me, back meeting against the wooden plank of door, cold sweat breaking under the nape of my neck and I blinked several times taking in my surrounding.

I'm a weak son of a bitch.

It's fuckin' gruelling to be in her presence. It's hellish to meet her sympathetic gaze for me and I'm a bastard who's pathetic as hell.

I have to be away, I've to go right now. Trotting towards the large window panes I uncliped them stepping outside the shared balcony of room.

There's a drain pipe so I can climb it down to the ground and get the hell away from here.

Maybe, Mick was right it was a bad day and idea to come here.

Adjusting Mick inside my armpit I threw my one leg over the rail and then the second, my breath wavering as I gripped the rail tighter taking baby steps towards the plastic pipe.

The smack of air stinging my eyes while the cars are being parked infront of me at the parking lot.

A delucet voice clamoured from inside startling me to death and Mick barked lowly in reaction, "Whoops! Sorry to interrupt your suicidal mission." I turned my head steadily to see who's it even though I can comprehend the sherbet similarity.

Her voice has melted like a hot maroon stamp into my ears since the dawn hour and with the corner of my eyes I watched her leaning against the stretcher.

"But let me tell you Sparkly this height would cause you nothing but two broken ribs, one fractured thigh and you might loose your brain memory. No more than that." I gawked her appalled while she remained peacific arms folded infront of her chest, into different cardinal clothes now.

Again a replete splitness to what every other person's wearing outside.

Even though my intentions are nothing like that but saying this to someone who's about to take their life doesn't seem very pleasing.

I was about to speak something into my defence that she misinterpreted things but she cut me off popping her chewing gum and capturing the ropes of sticked bubble around her lips with her teeth.

Fuck.

.

A/n; Please lovies. Reblog it and gimme feedback alot of kisses!

[catapilla]

From a journal of mine;

I had an odd dream last night, wrote it down as fast as I could. My writing isn't always chicken scratch, I realized I picked up a blue ink pen instead of black in the dark of the morning, and I am still shaking from this dream. I feel a calling to paint it. Odd to feel so resolved when I say that, but the image of it... I can't get it out of my mind.

If anyone is ever interested in knowing, I'd share more about the dream. The most recent, my fourth dream in months. I'll never forget it. Perhaps when I can live on my own again, I can put paint on canvas, maybe do it justice. I haven't been brave enough to attempt to actually paint in years. I'd love to pick someone's brain as to what it means, the dream.

Simon says it's vivid, intense imagery from my subconscious, because that's where all of my processing of like, everything gets dumped into. Good to know, a lawless wasteland deep inside of my brain, I'm imagining tumbleweeds and baren lands as far as the eye can see. One day I'll ask to see the notes he's compiled from talking with me. It would be good for the biography. Juicy fucking material.

I need to sleep.