#notebooks by Kas

[crimson-kas]

“Let me brush the stars from your hair.”

Reflections and commonplace book.

[crimsonkas-blog]

Hello, January.

[pyaari-naari]

Brooooooo 😭😭😭

It's feels good to be back on Tumblr properly 😭😭

Phone ka display gadbad ho gaya tha aur bhains ki aankh Mera phone kuch apps ko support hi nahi maar raha tha yaar sahi se 😭😭

[sbcdh]

I believe the English phrase is “odd duck.” Yes. Jan Kargad was an Odd Duck. He was born in 1922, right after Georgia joined the Soviet Union, in a commune outside of Batumi. But this was not a normal commune no. His parents were strange people. A small group of Dutch fuckers, very protestant people, started a winery in the countryside where they could read their bibles. You would think they did not get along with the Marxists, but you would be wrong. They loved work. The bible loved work. There was no problem.

Well, that is not entirely true. Jan was a bit of a problem. He was born with a “weak constitution.” We do not know what that meant exactly, but farmwork would give him seizures and very high fevers. He was not a good child for farm work. So, they taught him arithmetic. Young Jan was in charge of counting grapes and bottles of wine and so on. Maybe the Apparatchik did not mind a child doing all the counting, maybe he was bribed, maybe he did not give a shit. I do not know. But Jan was in charge of all the counting and, what is the fucking word- logistics. Yes. Logistics. And he was very good at logistics. 

There are theories as to his upbringing yes. Studying the bible alongside Marx and Lenin and so on. But I do not believe this. In Chechnya in those days many studied the bible and Marx like Jan Kargad, but we did not become like Jan Kargad. I think perhaps it was the fevers. One sees things with a fever when it is bad enough, yes. 

Kargad also studied the capitalists. He was very good at this. He read Adam Smith, but also Issac Newton, the South Seas bubble, and most famously the Tulip Panic. They say his journals were filled with pressed tulips. He was a bit of a, what is the fucking English word- pervert. A pervert for organizing things and numbers and so on. Jan Kargad loves logistics like a man loves his wife, and tulips are a symbol of this for him. They became a microcosm for him. You see how the bud unfolds into many petals, its is very similar to how capitalism unfurls into its many aspects in the world. But, I am getting ahead of myself. 

One day, after all of his schooling, Kargad has a terrible fever, more terrible than any fever he has ever had. This is in the early 1940s some time. After this fever he becomes strange. Well, stranger than he already was. He speaks of men with golden dog masks, their necks chained to the sun, tulips growing from their eyes, all of that shit. He never goes outside again. He becomes fearful of the sun. He does not let it touch his skin. 

He writes intensely for the next three years. I have seen his original notebooks and they are stained with sweat. This man is not well, but he writes. He does not get help, because he is very good at analyzing agricultural output. I believe it grounded him some how, to spend days without sleep, reading spreadsheets about grapes and wheat and so on. 

He is no longer christian. He throws out all of the crosses in his home, and replaces them with grape-cutters. They are similar to a sickle, but with a long handle, for reaching up and cutting off high bunches of grapes. He becomes obsessed with this idea of the grape cutter, and he begins to paint. And this is where many first learn of him. He influences a group of artists who become famous in the southern soviet union, though they are occasionally derided as being “mystical.” I personally? I love the drawings. Many figures reaching up to pluck grapes from the sun. It becomes the central theme of his work.

Here people discover his strange writings. But first he is considered a strange mystic. His early writings are still very christian yes, and this influences how he is read in the west. Many think he is speaking of hyper-economics or whatever fetishistic bull shit the americans are calling it. But I do not think so. His work is very soviet. There are stories yes, of good soviet men drinking coffee and loving spreadsheets like a man loves his wife, and in this they become a little bit like Jan Kargad. They are –you do not have an English term for this– cutting grapes from the sun. But this is not a serious phrase you understand. These men are perverts.

[eternal-love-song]

Trust The Rogue To Lead You

Follow up to A Wish Breathed Into You

Odile contemplates the quest that her traveling partner has dragged her into. She trust him to lead her on this path.

[Siffrin & Odile] [Alternate Universe, Second Person POV, Odile POV, Introspection, Character Study]

Siffrin was a bit of an odd fellow, you'd known that since the first time you'd stumbled across each other. They were aimless and air headed at times, while being completely singled minded and determined at others. They could forget their words mid sentence one minute, but tell you the entire translation history of a play in the next. You didn't understand them, but you found them frightfully easy to get along with. 

You had already been traveling for quite some time when you met Siffrin, and it seemed that they had been doing the same but with much less grace. They didn't seem to have a destination that they were aiming for and, though you wouldn't realize this until much later, didn't have a place that they planned to return to either. It was easy enough to let them stick by your side for a time and then just as easy to want them to stay there. 

It was true that you questioned their decision to visit a frozen country, even when your own desire to do the same was rather high. It was a dangerous, reckless, and ill advised course of action. As much as you thought them to be a madman for suggesting it, you must have been just as mad to agree. As unorthodox as Siffrin's methods could be at times, he hadn't steered you wrong yet. You were hesitant to speak the words aloud, but you had placed a fair bit of trust in Siffrin and it had been repaid poorly.

Still, this "Universe" that they went on about mad zero since to you. It was somehow everything, but also everything was inside of it. It was a guiding force, but also he couldn't tell you a single thing about it when pressed. Not that Siffrin had ever been good at explaining himself under pressure, but that didn't mean you could always stop yourself from trying. You understood that it was part of his religion in some fashion, but you desperately wished you could get a few more concrete details out of him. 

"I don't know what to tell you, Odile," Siffrin had shrugged at you when you'd tried to poke at his words. "The Universe leads, all we can do is follow."

He said it with such finality that it must have been a common saying in… wherever Siffrin was from. You'd yet to figure it out or get anything out of him on that mystery. The only thing you knew for sure was that he had no intention of returning there. Whether that was because he refused to for some reason or perhaps wasn't allowed to, you had yet to figure out. 

It hadn't taken you long to begin writing down all your observations about Siffrin. It had taken even less time after that to realize that you'd need a separate notebook if you really wanted to understand all the strange oddities of your new companion. There had been one too many instances of scribbling in the margins of an already filled page for your liking, so you made the investment for a Siffrin specific book.

It worked out in your favor, as he seemed to get a kick out of trying to peek over your shoulder and you enjoyed the little game you'd made of pretending to hide it from him. It also gave you a chance to learn more about them. You'd learned earlier on that they couldn't read Ka Buan, so you'd made a game of seeing which scripts he could and could not recognize. Poterian seemed to offer him no trouble, which made sense as the two of you had met in Poteria. He scrunched up his face at Mwu script, which led you to assume that he didn't have much, if any, familiarity with the language. He had no trouble with Vaugardian, but seemed to take longer to parse out Andiran, despite the languages similarities. 

You were used to others becoming a bit uncomfortable if you paid too much attention to them, so it was a refreshing change of pace that you could tease Siffrin in this manner. If anything, he seemed flattered by your attention.

It also made it easier to show your affection in this way. You weren't very physically affectionate, but you could list out the traits that you found endearing about them and smile as they slowly slunk into their cloak to hide their darkening face. 

So, you were reasonably fond of Siffrin, you trusted him, and you were more willing to go along with his insane plans than you perhaps should have been. You didn't have a problem with any of this until you watched them fall out of a tree and scream bloody murder for so long that you knew you'd never be able to get the sound out of your head.

You hadn't questioned them on their little rituals, they'd always had them but this was one of the areas you were able to be patient in learning about them. You hadn't had any regret for that decision until then. If whatever they had done had led to this, you couldn't fathom allowing them to do as they pleased again. 

Only… it worked. You hadn't truly believed that he could "fix Vaugarde" or whatever their insane idea had been, but as you looked around and saw life returning to the branches of the tree, you had to second guess that assumption. It seemed that "wishing" had more validity to it than you ever could have guessed.

"Wishcraft?" You asked with some incredulity. You had demanded that he allow you to check him over for injuries, but amazingly, he didn't seem to be hurt at all. You weren't sure how that was possible with how hard he had fallen and how raw they had screamed themselves, but you decided to let it go for the time being. Too many mysteries at once would give you a headache. 

Siffrin simply nodded at you. "Yeah. It's… I'm not sure how to explain it?"

You tried to control your expression so that you didn't look as skeptical as you felt. "A craft based around… wishes?" You repeat. "I've never heard of such a thing before."

Siffin sank down into his cloak the way he often did when he was embarrassed, before he looked back at you and shrugged. "I… don't know why I know it, just that I… do?"

There were a great many things that Siffrin didn't know why they knew. His memory was unreliable at the best of times, yet his knowledge was usually spot on. He was more likely to underestimate his knowledge than overestimate it. 

"Tell me more about this… Wishcraft."

"Like what?" They asked with such an unassuming expression that you knew they were not simply trying to withhold the information from you. Sometimes you weren't sure how someone as expressive and kind as Siffrin had made it on their own as long as they did. You often sent thanks to whatever Expression had guided them to your side instead of into the hands of someone worse. 

"How does it work?" you asked, opening your notebook so that you could keep track of whatever they told you. "What does it do?"

"Well, it works by wishing?" He didn't sound particularly certain as he said that, but you attributed that more to him explaining it to you than any actual uncertainty in what he was trying to say. "And… it can do… a lot? Maybe not anything, but… I mean, if you wish for it…"

You wouldn't get anywhere this way. 

"Alright, how about you tell me about this?" You gesture to the Favor Tree. 

"You have to make a wish in order to use it," he started slowly. You could practically see him trying to arrange the words in his head. "And you can wish for anything, but the way that you wish makes a difference."

"How so?"

You could tell from the way that their face scrunched up that this isn't something he'll be able to answer. Or if he can, certainly not easily. You decided to try a different avenue.

"What are some ways to make wishes?"

Siffrin perked up a bit at that question. It must be easier to answer than the others. "There are rituals," he answered. "Like, if you're just saying your wish aloud, you can say it three times, or six, sometimes nine, but it isn't usually a good idea to go higher than that. You can, but…"

But he can't explain the ins and outs of it.

"What else?" You asked, writing that down.

"You can wish on a dandelion, but you have to blow all the seeds away in a single breath or it won't work. And you can wish on a star, but you have to really want it for a star to grant your wish and that's only for bigger wishes, anyway."

Siffrin had mentioned stars before, but you weren't sure why they had a hand in granting wishes. In fact, you weren't sure that any of this made sense to you. You didn't see any connecting thread between these things. You gestured for him to go on anyway.

"With the cranes, you have to fold a certain amount of them and the more that you fold, the bigger you can make your wish," he told you. "But just folding them isn't enough. You have to focus on your wish while folding and then whisper it into the folds of the paper so that the paper holds the wish and keeps it safe."

"Why does the paper need to hold the wish?"

He looked confused at the question. "Something has to take your wish to the Universe. So like, with a dandelion, each seed is carrying your wish away, but if you don't want it enough, then it won't be granted. That's why you need to blow off all the seeds." That… almost made sense to you. "Cranes can fly, so if you tell them your wish, they can carry it to the Universe for you, but only if you fold them right. Otherwise your wish will fall out and it'll be dropped before they make it to the sky."

Wishcraft sounded utterly absurd, but it was clear that there were rules. Rules that operated under some kind of logic even though you were clearly lacking the connective tissue to follow that logic. 

You finish writing down everything he told you, even the parts that didn't make sense to you. Perhaps if you revisit the topic down the line, it will. 

"So… unfreezing Vaugarde." It sounded completely mad when you'd first agreed, but now the task had gone from impossible to merely… daunting. You couldn't imagine taking on more responsibility than you seemingly just had. Unfreezing an entire country, fighting off hordes of these Sadness. Would it be just as volatile of a process every time? Would Siffrin need to use the same ritual? Would it always… hurt him?

You suspected that Siffrin wouldn't have the answer to these questions if you asked him. 

"We should get some sleep," you told him, closing your book and pushing yourself to your feet. You felt the strain in your limbs just a bit and when you stretched, you could feel the creak in your back. "I suspect we'll have quite a lot of work ahead of us when the town unfreezes."

Siffrin nodded and pushed himself to his feet. 

Tomorrow you might not have a choice in how things proceeded, so you should probably ask now, while you have the chance. 

"Siffrin." They stopped and looked up at you. "Are you sure that you want to take up this task? It will not be easy and it will not be quick. It'll be more dangerous than our previous travels and more labor intensive as well."

Silence settled between you for a while. You hoped that they were considering your words and not considering how to distance themselves from you for the audacity of asking.

"I have to do this, I think," he said eventually. "Even if the Universe didn't guide me here, I owe it to Vauguarde. Also… I might be the only one that can." He looked up. "So I have to do it. I don't want Vaguarde to become just a memory." Another pause. "You don't have to help me… if you don't want to."

You reach out to place a hand on his head. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone, my dear rogue. This old lady will be with you for a while longer, yet."

He smiled, small and shy, but full of warmth. "Thanks Odile."

In the morning the two of you watch as the town comes to life. People that had been frozen in motion lurched forward, bird song slowly began to fill the air, the lightlessness receded from the world, and the air warmed. You and Siffrin tried to follow the wave of the curse breaking to catch those that were stuck in awkward positions and try to explain what had happened. 

By the afternoon, most of the town was unfrozen and by nightfall, you could see the borders where Siffrin's wish had stopped.

You tried to explain, as simply as you could, what had happened. Neither you nor Siffrin really wanted to get into the idea of Wishcraft, but you didn't really need to. People understood that the two of you were responsible for unfreezing them and the rest didn't really matter to them all that much. 

"We're so grateful to you, saviors!" Your eyes went to Siffrin when one of the townsfolk grabbed your hands to thank you. From the way they were shrinking into their cloak, you didn't think that they would appreciate the correction. Siffrin didn't particularly enjoy too much attention on him and while you knew that the attention would inevitably come, you didn't need to hasten the inevitable. "Please, is there any way that we can help you?"

You only needed to consider your response for a moment. 

"There's a long journey ahead of us, a sizable task. And aid that you could offer…"

"Of course!"

"Anything for our saviors!"

The people of Vaugarde were generous. That could be expected from a person in their position, but you were fairly certain you would not receive this warm of a response from Ka Bue if your home had been in the same position. They offered you supplies for your journey, as much food as you could reasonably carry, and begged you to stay long enough for them to hold a celebration with you both.

You agreed, of course. There wasn't a time limit to your journey. Between fighting and traveling, the task would be arduous enough, but you weren't yet sure what burden Wishcraft would put on Siffrin, so you wanted to give them ample time to relax while they could. 

During the height of the celebration you decide to check the Favor tree. You aren't yet sure what significance they hold to Vaugarde, you haven't gotten the chance to ask anyone yet, but Siffrin had told you what they were called and it had served as the base for their wish which seemed like it must be significant somehow. To your surprise, the light that had been housed within the paper cranes had died. 

You spent a long time staring at them and at the people surrounding the favor tree. There were still so many unknowns about this journey, this mysterious craft. You weren't yet sure how to navigate it all, how you could help Siffrin, but you were determined to try. You knew that much. 

"Hey, Odile!" You turned to Siffrin smiling up at you, holding out their hand. "Flower for you!"

It was a simple thing, the flower. Just a small token. But it had been frozen just hours earlier and now it was alive. Because of you. You and Siffrin. 

You accept the flower with a small smile. "Thank you, Siffrin."

The smile that they gift you with is even better than the flower, but only one of those can be bundled up so that you can keep it with you forever. 

[yayabee]

ligaya

pt. 2 pt. 1

filipino!daisuke juarez x fem reader

note: 4 days of writing and thinking of what should happen lol. nakilig ako sa pag gawa neto so like I hope u guys get kilig din sooo (ay conyo pala to) also... SELOSO DAISUKE?? halaaaa

“ang tahimik mo, y/n,”

your best friend, said as she leaned against the desk beside yours during lunch break. her eyebrows were raised, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“may tinatago ka ba saken?”

you looked up from your notebook, confused. “ha? wala? why would there be?”

she smirked, tilting her head toward the door where daisuke had just walked past, carrying a basketball and grinning at his friends.

“hmm, wala lang. just wondering if it has anything to do with a certain someone who’s been glued to your side lately.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “hays, don’t start. daisuke’s just… he’s just around a lot, that’s all.”

“just around, huh?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“because to me, it looks like he’s around you, specifically. like, a lot.”

“nakakainis sya, okay?” you said, slamming your notebook shut.

“he’s always bugging me, cracking stupid jokes, and acting like the world revolves around him. bat ko naman yun magiging crush??”

“mmm,” your friend hummed skeptically, resting her chin on her hand.

“it’s just funny how you’ve been smiling a lot more lately when he’s around. and don’t think i didn’t notice how you waited for him to walk home together yesterday.”

“i wasn’t waiting for him,” you insisted, your cheeks heating up.

“he just… he always shows up at the same time. it’s not like i’m gonna tell him to go away or something.”

“aminin mo na gusto mo sya.” your friend said with a grin, poking your arm.

“hinde ah!”

you snapped, shoving her hand away. “seryoso, tigilin mo na yan.”

she shrugged, still smirking. “whatever you say, y/n. but don’t come crying to me when you realize i’m right.”

“you’re not right,” you muttered, standing up to throw away your trash, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

over the next few weeks, daisuke continued to find his way into your daily routine. he’d sit next to you during lunch, walk with you after class, and sometimes even show up outside your house to challenge you to a game of basketball—though you always lost, to his endless amusement.

“you’re improving, y/n,” daisuke teased one afternoon, tossing the ball back to you.

“but you still kinda suck.”

“shut up," you shot back, panting as you tried to catch your breath.

“i’m just… letting you win.” he laughed, that bright, carefree laugh that always managed to get under your skin.

“yeah, sure. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

you rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. there was something about the way he looked at you, the way he treated you like you were the only person in the world when he was talking to you, that made your chest feel tight.

one night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, your friend’s words came back to haunt you. you so like him.

“mm, di naman.." you whispered to yourself, but the memory of daisuke’s grin, the sound of his laugh, and the way your heart raced whenever he was close made it hard to believe your own denial.

“wait.” you muttered, burying your face in your pillow.

“maybe i do like him.” you kept your feelings to yourself, confiding only in your friend, who reacted with a smug

“sabi ko na ga eh.”

“but you’re not gonna tell him?” she asked, leaning across the table during lunch.

“no way,” you said firmly.

“it’s not like he likes me back. malandi lang yun.”

mae raised an eyebrow. “uh, no? he’s not like that with everyone. just you.”

“whatever,” you said, brushing her off, though her words stayed with you.

the next time you and daisuke hung out, everything felt different. you couldn’t meet his eyes without feeling like he could see right through you, and every little thing he said or did seemed to make your heart race.

“okay ka lang?” daisuke asked one day after school as you walked home together.

“tahimik mo.”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you said quickly, keeping your eyes fixed on the ground.

he stopped walking, grabbing your arm gently to make you look at him. “are you sure? you’re acting weird.”

“i’m not acting weird,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched.

“you’re just imagining things.”

“huh,” he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he let go of your arm.

“if you say so.”

you continued walking in silence, the tension between you almost unbearable. every time he looked at you, your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t stop wondering if he could tell how you felt.

later that night, as you replayed the day’s events in your mind, your friend’s voice echoed in your head again. just tell him already.

“no way,” you muttered to yourself, clutching your pillow tightly.

“i’m not ruining this.”

but deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe daisuke felt the same way.

the next few weeks turned into a full-blown show of daisuke’s affection. it seemed like he had one goal in mind: to make sure everyone in school—and especially you—knew how much he liked you.

it began subtly, or at least, as subtly as daisuke could manage. he started sitting with you and mae during lunch, his tray always loaded with food he claimed he couldn’t finish.

“y/n,” he’d say, sliding a cup of coffee or a bag of chips toward you.

“sayo na to.”

“bat mo pinapakain yung tira mo saken, daisuke??” you said the first few times, pushing the snacks back toward him.

“tira? binili ko to para sayo!” he’d insist, grinning as he shoved the food back in your direction.

eventually, you gave up fighting him, though you made sure to roll your eyes every time. your friend, meanwhile, watched the entire thing with a knowing smirk, her eyes darting between you and daisuke like she was watching a rom-com unfold in real life.

“he’s so obvious,” she whispered one day as daisuke laughed at one of his own bad jokes, clearly trying to impress you.

“he’s just being annoying,” you muttered, though the heat rising to your cheeks said otherwise.

“sure, y/n. keep telling yourself that.”

the real chaos began when daisuke decided to involve the entire basketball team in his efforts.

during a practice game, you and your friend had stopped by the gym to return a book one of your classmates had borrowed.

as you were walking past the court, daisuke spotted you.

“y/n!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the gym.

you froze, already dreading whatever was about to happen.

“this one’s for you!” he yelled before taking a shot from half-court. the ball swished perfectly through the net, and the gym erupted in cheers.

the team clapped him on the back as he jogged over to you, grinning like he’d just won a championship.

“ano yun?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“just showing off for my favorite girl,” he said, leaning in slightly.

you pushed his face away with your hand. “hay nako daisuke.”

“and you’re cute when you’re mad,” he teased, winking.

your friend, standing beside you, let out a low whistle. “he’s really laying it on thick, huh?”

“don’t encourage him,” you muttered, but your heart was beating just a little faster than usual.

another time, he took things to a whole new level.

you were walking home with mae when daisuke pulled up beside you on his bike.

“oh? ano nanaman?” you asked, stopping in your tracks.

“offering you a ride home,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“and i brought you this.”

"ano yan?”

you asked, staring at the stuffed bear he crafted made to look like you.

“ikaw. creative, diba?” he said, grinning.

“now hop on.”

“you’re unbelievable,” you muttered, but you climbed onto the back of his bike anyway. your friend gave you a pointed look before waving and walking off in the opposite direction.

“hold on tight,” daisuke said, glancing over his shoulder with a teasing smile.

“just don’t crash,” you replied, gripping the back of his shirt.

as he pedaled down the street, he started humming a cheesy love song, earning a groan from you. “stop that!”

“what? i’m setting the mood,” he said, laughing.

“kainis,” you said, but you couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto your face.

as daisuke’s gestures grew more exaggerated, so did your classmates’ reactions. they cheered him on at every opportunity, shouting things like, “go, daisuke!” and “she’s totally falling for you!”

“they’re so embarrassing,” you said to your friend one day, watching as daisuke performed a dramatic bow after handing you yet another bouquet flower during lunch.

“they’re not wrong, though,” your friend said, smirking.

“shut up.” you said firmly, though the way your heart fluttered every time daisuke smiled at you suggested otherwise.

it wasn’t long before daisuke’s boldness reached its peak. "court. pagkatapos ng klase.”

he said one afternoon, casually leaning against your desk.

“why?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“you’ll see,” he said, winking before walking off.

against your better judgment, you showed up at the basketball court later that day. daisuke was already there, holding a bouquet of flowers and a small box.

“ano to?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“just a little something to show you how much i like you,” he said, holding out the box.

inside was a necklace with a key charm on it.

“seriously?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

“you don’t like it?” he asked, feigning a pout.

"what's the heart necklace you're wearing?" you stared at the heart necklace he was wearing that had a keyhole in the middle."

"it's matching. kasi na sayo ang susi sa puso ko."

you blushed, completely ignoring what he said.

“i.. i guess it’s… nice." you admitted, slipping the necklace on.

“it looks perfect on you,” he said, his grin widening.

“you’re such a show-off,” you said, but your cheeks were burning.

“only for you,” he said, stepping closer. “so, am i winning you over yet?”

“don’t push your luck,” you said, but the smile on your face

told him everything he needed to know.

from then on, daisuke’s efforts became even more over-the-top. but no matter how much you rolled your eyes or scolded him, you couldn’t deny that his antics had started to grow on you. and judging by the way his grin widened every time he saw you, he knew it too.

the chaos started when a new transfer student arrived. he was tall, good-looking, mestizo, and immediately popular with your classmates. the guy had this smooth confidence that made everyone gravitate toward him, including you—at least, that’s how daisuke saw it. from day one, daisuke had his eye on him.

“who does this guy think he is?” he muttered to your friend during lunch, glaring at the new student as he laughed at something you said.

“ay, seloso ka pala?” she teased, nudging him.

“ako? seloso?” daisuke scoffed, though the way he was gripping his utensils showed otherwise.

it didn’t take long for the new guy to start getting a little too friendly with you. he’d sit next to you during lunch, walk with you between classes, and even offer to carry your books. daisuke watched all of it with growing frustration.

one afternoon, as you were packing up your things, the new guy appeared at your desk.

“hey, y/n, wanna walk home together?” he asked, flashing you a charming smile.

“ah, uhm..” you hesitated, glancing over at daisuke, who was pretending not to listen but was very clearly eavesdropping.

“kasama nya ako.” daisuke cut in, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking up to you.

“i didn’t know we had plans,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“we do now,” daisuke said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

the new guy looked between the two of you, his smile faltering slightly. “well, maybe another time then.”

“yeah, maybe,” daisuke said, his tone sharp as he grabbed your arm and led you out of the classroom.

“what’s your problem?” you asked once you were outside.

“my problem? what’s his problem?” daisuke shot back.

“walking around like he owns the place, trying to steal my girl.”

your eyes widened. “your girl?”

“you know what i mean,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“no, i don’t. care to explain?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“wag na nga,” he said quickly, avoiding your gaze.

you sighed but decided not to push him. “you’re so weird sometimes, daisuke.”

over the next few days, the rivalry between daisuke and the new guy only escalated. daisuke started showing up earlier to class just so he could sit next to you before the other guy had a chance. he started carrying your books, offering you snacks, and even walking you home every day, no matter how much you protested.

“you don’t have to do all this, you know,” you told him one

afternoon as he handed you a bag of your favorite chips.

“yes, i do,” he said firmly.

“why?”

“because he’s not gonna win,” daisuke said, his eyes serious.

“win what?” you asked, genuinely confused.

he didn’t answer, but the look on his face said it all.

things came to a head during a school event. there was a basketball game, and daisuke was playing. you were sitting in the stands with mae and the new guy, who had conveniently found a seat next to you.

“daisuke’s really good, huh?” the new guy said, leaning closer to you.

“yeah, he is,” you agreed, your eyes on daisuke as he dribbled down the court.

daisuke glanced up at the stands and immediately spotted the two of you. his jaw tightened, and his movements on the court became more aggressive. he stole the ball from an opponent, dribbled past two defenders, and scored a three-pointer, all while glaring at the new guy.

“he’s showing off,” your friend whispered, smirking.

“he always does that,” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile a little.

after the game, daisuke found you by the bleachers.

“enjoy the game?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching yours.

“yeah, you played great,” you said.

“thanks,”

he said, his lips curving into a grin. then he looked over at the new guy, who was standing a few feet away. “you heading home?”

“yeah, with—”

“she’s with me,” daisuke interrupted, grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“ha?” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“tara na,” daisuke said, ignoring your glare as he started walking away.

“he’s unbelievable,” you muttered, following him.

as the weeks went on, daisuke’s gestures became even more exaggerated. he’d bring you flowers, carry your books, and even buy you snacks from the canteen, all in front of your classmates.

“he’s so dramatic,” you said to mae one day as daisuke handed you a rose during lunch.

“he’s cute, though,” your friend said, smirking.

“he’s annoying,” you muttered, though the small smile on your face said otherwise.

one afternoon, daisuke finally confronted you.

“y/n,” he said, stopping you in the hallway after class.

“what now?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“can we talk? alone?”

you hesitated but nodded, letting him lead you to an empty classroom.

“look,”

he said, running a hand through his hair. “i need to say something.”

“okay…”

“i like you,” he said, his voice steady. “i’ve liked you for a while now, and i’m not gonna let some random guy take you away from me.”

you stared at him, your heart pounding. “daisuke…”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. “just… think about it, okay?”

before you could respond, he walked out, leaving you standing there with your thoughts in turmoil.

as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. he likes you too???? (malamang?? tf 💀)

[vulpixisananimal]

(Mirabelle)

"Pay attention, class. Todays lecture is on sadness and their many forms, types, and oddities."

(You had your notebook ready. You fidgeted with your hands. You breathed, and payed attention.)

"The first kind of sadness is one born of the radiant emotions of all people."

"They're born of the collective emotions of everyone. Everyone, from the youngest child to the oldest grandparent radiates their negative emotion, eventually, this pools together into a Sadness. A Radiant Sadness, to be precise."

>>>

(You slash at the sadness, you were tired, and hungry, and scared. You had to fight it off, you, had to get to Jouvente, you had to survive, you had to get help and, a-and. . .)

("Radiant sadness are weak, but in large numbers, or against a weary opponent, they are deadly.")

(You, you couldn't be weak. Everyone was counting on you. You had to make it, you had to win!! You had to get help!! You had to, save, everyone!)

>>>

"The second kind of sadness is much more rare."

(You were in a lecture hall. You were stuck in this town for a few days, you had nothing to do, so you sat there.)

"These are Bonded Sadness. On a very rare occasion, when ones emotions and craft skills are strong enough, a sadness is created from their emotions alone. However, there's been no sightings of Bonded Sadness in many, many years."

"Before the King, that is." (Muttered a woman next to you. You look over. Older, Ka Buan, it looks like. Dark hair. Glasses.) "Now it's like a theory has come to life."

"What do you mean?" (You ask.)

"Well. . ."

>>>

(You jump back, the sadness' fist slamming down on the ground you were just at. Isabeau was nearly knocked out, and Madame Odile couldn't keep going much longer.)

("Well it seems those who are frozen in time have spawned their own, strong, Bonded Sadness" She had replied that day. "If you defeat them, the powerful craft and emotional energy will rebound on who created it. And since its creators are frozen, it will just re-form later.)

(The sadness lunges at you again, you close your eyes.)

(You hear footsteps, wind, a slash. You open your eyes, you look up, the sadness was cut in two, dissolving into dust, with a stranger holding a dagger where it once was.)

(They turn to look at you, and smile.)

"Sorry for cutting in!"

>>>

"Crafted Sadness?"

"Yes, Mirabelle, you could also call them Fused Sadness."

(Yourself, the Head Housemaiden, and Siffrin where standing in front of the King. Frozen in time.)

"That's my little theory, anyways!" (She smiled at you.) "So overcome with his own emotions in this house frozen in time, he spawned his own bonded sadness, and fused with it."

". . . . Is. . ." (Siffrin had been quiet. Sitting in front of the King, looking at him.) "He. . . He didn't, always, act normal. . . . Tears. . ."

"A-are you sure, Head Housemaiden?"

"It's just a guess, but, it's what I think."

>>>

"Ramos!!!" (Isabeau cried out.) "C'mon buddy!!! Snap out of it!!!"

(It was true. Fused, crafted, whatever word it was, it was true. You didn't remember at the time. You didn't remember after, not at first. You were too focused on mind craft, on Ramos, on Siffrin, and everyone else in your friends body.)

"I don't think they'll hear you." (Odile had responded. You looked at the sadness, you couldn't tell if Ramos was in there, if he was gone, if, if. . .)

("Whatever the King was, maybe he could have been saved, changed. But he spent so much time wallowing in sadness and emotion it became a part of him.")

>>>

(You close your old notebook.)

(You had made it to the homestead.)

(Your old notes were hard to read.)

(You had to go to sleep. It had been a busy night.)

(Your room, shared with Ramos and Odile. Bonnie and Nille in theirs. Siffrin and Isabeau in theirs.)

(Go to sleep, Mirabelle. Tomorrow awaits.)

[catxolotlquoise]

Has this fella in my head for WEEKS but didnt like their other designs, by finally smth stuck. Also I tried to replicate ISAT artstyle...eh, not great but no bad either...

Anyways, meet Roo. At least that what her notebook reads

- Primarily a Paper type, but knows some piercing craft

- She does sleep, but always feels tired. Often gets mistaken for a sadness if they go out

- Very much a recluse, doesn't like interacting with people

- Collects anything and everything related to The Country

- Grows out hair, refuses to cut it. Plays on her "hair holds memories"

- Knows Vaugardian and Ka Buen. Remembers a bit of the forgotten language, but of course gets a headache

Roo follows more Ka Buen traditions as she was very close to her father who was Ka Buen. He who left his home country to be with the women he loved. Roo took interest and would dye her hair black like his and have some diamond motifs in their h̵̩͉̟̗̼͙̒̀͊͜͝õ̷̦̭̚m̴͕͆̔͛̑̋̇́e̴̤͉̻͙͝ outfits. Roo's mother never took offense that her child didn’t find interest in her culture. The dad was a bit concerned but indulged his childs curiosity. Roo was basically a "The Country beliefs are boring, papa's culture is more interesting" kind of kid. The irony now...

So what happened was, Roo went to mainland to for a week to collect some new additions to her library back home. She loved getting the books herself instead of their assistant. Loved that fresh new book smell

Until...suddenly...they had no idea why they needed so many books...why were they here...where'd they come from...who...who was she? All she had was her notebook which thankfully was written in Ka Buen. She knew that at least but....some parts had little notes in another language that...everytime that attempted to read, gave them a massive headache

Also just realized her and Odile would probably get along. Because neither of them remember their mother's HA. bad joke

[feyhunter78]

Lost Notebook - Nerd!Miguel

Description: You left your notebook behind, and Miguel ends up with more than he bargained for when he returns it.

Shout out to @smokeywhalee for the idea🥰

Nerd!Miguel headcanons!

It’s your notebook that stops him. Pastel pink with your name written in black sharpie in the bottom right corner. He grabs it, unable to resist the urge to flip through it, to admire the way you take notes, it’s so chaotic, but he can see the genius behind the madness. Miguel knows you don’t think you’re smart enough for this class, but you are. You’re smart enough for anything you put your mind to. Genetics just seem to be something you can’t get your mind on board with, though.

He should return it, your notebook. You’ll be worried, anxious, he’s surprised you haven’t texted him asking if he’s left already, if he’s seen your notebook. He smiles to himself, tracing the loops of your handwriting. He loves when you text him all frantic, loves that he can put your mind at ease, loves when you make time in your schedule to come meet him somewhere on campus to retrieve your forgotten items. It makes him feel needed.

He should return your notebook, sooner rather than later, you’ve been on the edge of tears nearly every lecture, and he doesn’t want you to worry more than you already are.

Miguel knows your schedule, as embarrassing as it is to admit, he’s memorized it. After lab, you usually walk through the courtyard to get to your next class, it’s across campus so if he moves quickly, he can probably catch up with you. So, he grabs your notebook and hurries out of the lab, backpack slung over one shoulder.

The sun is shining down through the trees casting patterned shadows across the stone walkways, chatter fills the air, as he enters the courtyard. It’s a large square, each side opening up to a different part of campus. The library, the student center, the Humanities buildings, and then the labs he just came from. Along the low brick walls that box in parts of the courtyard, he can see the large colorful Frat letters. Each decorated differently with a variety of guys hanging around them, a scattering of girls, sorority girls he assumes, mingling with the various groups.

He spots you almost immediately, your hair shining in the sun, your pink backpack hanging low on your back, your scuffed sneakers moving slightly as you shift your weight from side to side.

You’re talking with someone; a man Miguel doesn’t recognize. He’s taller than you, shorter than Miguel, with short blond hair and striking blue eyes. He laughs loud, it rings out in the courtyard and for a moment Miguel thinks you’re laughing too. But then he sees the way you tense up, how you nod awkwardly and turn away from the laughing man, your steps measured but hurried, your head buried in your phone.

He catches up with you easily, long strides nearly double yours, and calls out your name.

Your head shoots up, a frigid, prickly look on your face that melts into a brilliant smile when you realize who called your name. “Miguel, hey, what’s up? I thought you had Calculus after lab?”

You know his schedule? His heart skips a beat, and he pushes his glasses up, holding your notebook out to you. “Yeah I—you left your notebook, and I know you’ve been stressed about class, so I thought I’d—”

You burst into tears, completely stopping him in his tracks.

He steps closer, anxiety swirling in his chest. “I’m sorry I should’ve texted you; it was weird of me to just show up like this. Please, please don’t cry.”

You shake your head and wipe away your mascara stained tears the best you can, bottom lip trembling even harder when you see the black marks on your finger. “No, no, you didn’t—I’m sorry I’ve just had a really tough morning, and then this asshole in KA, he was running his mouth and like I’m not even involved in that drama, so I don’t know why he started coming at me, and you’re just—you’re so sweet. I know you hate being late to class but here you are bringing me my notebook that I stupidly forgot and I…”

Miguel steps even closer, tentatively resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s nothing, really.”

You shake your head again, crying even harder, and throwing your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “I just—he was so mean, and I don’t even know him!”

“What did he say?” He asks softly, wrapping his arms loosely around you, rubbing his hand up and down your back as soothingly as he can.

“He said that I’m just a dumb bitch who needs to mind my own business and learn to shut up.” You sob, your fingers gripping his sweater.

Rage flares in his chest and Miguel wants to march over to that bleached blond douchebag, but the warmth of your body against his, the sound of your sobs, keeps him rooted in place.

Not like he’d even have the courage to go confront the guy, he’s not Gabriel. His brother would waste no time telling the guy off, maybe even punching him.

“He’s an ass, y/n.” He says softly.

“Yeah but…I mean, you sit beside me in lab; you know I’m not all that…I don’t know, and I do talk a lot, maybe he’s right.” You pull back and look up at him, crystalline tears on your lashes. “Do you think I talk too much, am I too in your business?”

“No.” It comes out more forcefully than he intends, and he clears his throat before trying again. “No, y/n, I don’t think you talk too much, or that you’re too in my business. I enjoy hearing your stories, and the fact that you’re in my business is just proof that you care.” He gathers his courage and wipes away a stray tear with his thumb. “You’ve got a big heart; some people don’t appreciate that...but I do.”

His face is burning, and he prays you can’t see him blushing, or feel his heart pounding, or hear the tremble in his voice as he forces himself to voice a tiny fraction of his feeling towards you.

You blink up at him, sobs dying down to sniffles. “Miguel I—” Your phone buzzes, and your eyes dart down to it. “Sorry, it’s my big, I texted her about what Clayton said.”

Miguel steps back, lets his arms fall to his side as you answer the call, your notebook in your hand as you throw him a quick thank you and a smile over your shoulder and rush off to class.

His arms still tingle from where he held you, his shirt still slightly damp and stained with mascara as he watches you walk away.

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan

[blue-jisungs]

kiss me

song inspo. kiss me — dpr live

summary. jisung words out his thought on you wearing makeup... and he just wants to cuddle

warnings. swearing

a/n. ummm yeah it’s gonna be sfw bc unlike my music taste i don’t write nsfw n pg18 stuff aha! the song slaps tho got me giggling n all

han was laying on the bed, one of his hands under his head and the other was holding his phone, looking at some memes stays created. but he was, in fact, not looking at them. jisung observed you instead, eyes focused and flicking between your scrunched up face and the pen moving with the speed of light.

you sighed and closed your notebook suddenly, throwing the pen somewhere on your desk and turning around on the chair to face your boyfriend.

“done! i just need to take off my makeup and i’m ready to cuddle” a satisfied hum left your mouth, han shaking his head.

“why do you wear it anyways?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“what?” you scoffed, as if the answer was so simple.

“girl… take your fucking make up off right now” he joked, his finger whooshing in air threateningly “i wanna love my girl underneath all those artificial lies”

you blushed, eyes widening.

“are you serious? it’s… my skin isn’t perfect and just…” you stuttered, observing him.

“i know sometimes you’re shy. don’t cover it, ‘cause either way you’re mine” han hummed and stood up from the bed, his hair falling freely on his hair “c’mon, let’s wash this off so i can cover you in kisses already”

“you’re insane” you grunted, still clearly flustered. because who wouldn’t?

you entered the bathroom, han washing his teeth and you taking your makeup off. he was done before you so he just leaned against the sink and watched you, admiringly.

“what now?” you giggled, grabbing your toothbrush. you gave him a teasing look and leaned in, only to pull away last second before meeting his lips.

“explain yourself, why so cruel?” he grunted, pout forming on his lips. you scoffed, putting the toothpaste “they way you kiss me…”

you rose an eyebrow amused, washing your teeth.

“…oh, so rude” jisung crossed his arms.

“don’t be such a baby” you stuttered through the foam in your mouth, causing him to grin “i’ll give you kisses once my mouth is fresh”

he just shook his head and his lips were on yours the second you slay out the toothpaste, causing you to chuckle into the kiss.

skz masterlist | event masterlist

taglist.  @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang

[crimson-kas]

Some morning pages. I’ve been doing much better at getting up early each morning to get my thoughts down. I’m also enjoying the quiet of early morning.

[lost-my-sanity1]

You wanted my crisis posts right? Well here it is- my ex (yes the one i just broke up with) had given me this diary thing with like a lot of notes and stuff from the time of our relationship and me being the absolute idiot that i am, forgot to keep it safe. You cannot blame me, i am emotionally distraught. My mother found it and wondered what this notebook looking thing was WHILE I WAS AT WORK!! MIND YOU!! She opened it and read it and obviously found the very love confession type stuff written inside AND THEN SHOWED IT TO MY DAD (who by the way, has on many occasions openly stated that he does not think being gay is real at all, nor is he tolerant of it). When i came back from the office- they sit me down and straight up ask me IN A CHILL MANNER about who (insert ex's name) is and if this was a relationship or one sided thing from her??? And im like what the fuck??? Is going on??? And then they proceed to be very chill about the whole thing and they like tell me that you should burn the diary or smthn to help you move on??? And im just sitting their in crisis mode??? Like WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK??? And then theyre like dont let this all distract you from your career tho gurl that comes first AND THEN DAD HANDS ME A FUCKING JALJEERA BOTTLE???? HELLOW?????? And says "aaj ka gyaan hogya, ab khaana khaale jara" PROCEEDS TO SERVE ME AND MY BROTHER LUNCH. And my mother is getting ready for a party?? And my dad is sleeping now??? And i am just sitting with my head in my hands wondering what the flying fuck has gone on in this house. I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY TO ANYONE ANYMKRE LIKE WHAT DO YOU THEY KNOW WHAT DO THEY THINK WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO WITH ME????????

YOU LITERALLY CANT MAKE THIS SHIT UP LMAOOOO WHATEVER THEY SAJD ABOUT REAL LIFE BEING STRANGER THAN FICTION😭😭😭

[qalbofnight]

Chand dinon pehle humare urdu ke profesor ek sher padhte hue ek gumnam shayra ka zikr karney lagey,

Us shayra ko 16-17 ki umr se hi shayri ka shauq tha vo likhti rehti,padhti rehti lekin Zahir hai apne ghr se muashrey se chup kar, jaisey sabko hota hai unhe bhi allhad si umr mein ishq huwa lekin kabhi samjha na gaya,in sab se ghabra kar 21 saal ki umr mein hi unki shadi ho jaati hai , unhe phir lagta hai ki unhe us mard (shauhar) se mohabbat ho gayi hai, lekin duniya ki tamam ممنوعات (taboos) se bandha kamzarf mard bataur e shauhar mohabbat ka dawa to karta lekin shayra ko samajh na paya, usne shayra ki qabiliyat aur mohabbat ko pehchana hi nahin so shayra ne bhi naummeedi ki aur saada zindagi us mard ke ghar me ikhtiyar kar li lekin bardasht ka vo ghoont khud shayra ko pi gya aur ek din unhone apni tamam diaries,kitabein aur notebooks ko apne sath jala Kay khudkushi kar li , jab shauhar kamrey mein hadsey k bad phncha to ek Jale hue panney pe Sher likha Mila :

" dil hi dekhta koi ,dil ki binayi se

Ek hi Tamanna to thi faqat yahi to chaha tha humney "

Vo pehli baar tha jab shauhar ko pata chala ki unki biwi ek qabil shayra thi aur saheli ke zariye unki ek kitab bhi publish hui.

[yurivbproject]

Hi hi! This is our first post, but the Yu(me) Ri(ka) project is gonna be an ongoing collab between two artists (M n C), that's gonna involve two goober girls trying to make a name for themselves, musically, even if they have no idea what they're doing. stick around for some art, tunes and really, really goofy notebook drawings

[ramayantika]

I was in no mood for studying. Every time my eyes glanced at the page of my textbook, I would try to understand the concept, but my efforts were in vain. All the words flew above my head, and my mind was cluttered with a hundred different things.

I was humming a tune with my feet tapping to the beats. My fingers tried to rotate an empty pen flawlessly as my mind raced with thoughts about the upcoming tests, with catchy tunes from Instagram reels serving as the background music.

Sighing, I placed the pen on my open notebook, scribbled with equations and definitions, and grabbed my phone from my bed. I peered outside the window, silently admiring the quiet roads of my society. It was 11 p.m., and I could see a few balconies lit with golden LED lights that looked warm and cosy.

Below my window were green bushes and jasmine plants that were filled with white buds, ready to bloom at dawn. I plugged my earphones into the phone and opened YouTube to play my favourite go-to songs to soothe my mind.

And just like that, my body began swaying to the familiar tunes, and a smile graced my lips. Deciding that I could no longer stop myself from dancing, I quietly locked my room from the inside and unplugged my earphones.

Opening my braid, I let my hair fall loosely down my shoulders. Admiring the curly ends that had formed because of the tight braid, I smiled at the mirror and admired myself in the mirror.

Dressed in a long grey sleepwear T-shirt and black capri, I wasn’t a sight to behold at eleven in the night, especially for someone who had spent all her day studying. I looked exhausted after all the mental labour my brain had to do, but the open hair and the light breeze from the window did make me feel a little refreshed.

Aankhon ki gustakhiyan came up, and I grinned at the mirror. I twirled in the room as gracefully and quietly as I could. Kavita Krishnamurthy’s part came up a while later, and I was ready with katakamukha mudra to enact a woman shyly opening her veil to her beloved.

Aankhon ki sharm-o-haya maaf ho

Tumhe dekh ke jhukti hain

Uthi aankhen joh baat na keh saki

Jhuki aankhen woh kehti hain

I pretended to peer down while darting my eyes for a second at my imaginary lover in the mirror at the last line. Taking another twirl, I began practicing a few hand combinations for the instrumental part while practicing an easy-going, graceful smile in the mirror.

Quickly lining my eyes with kajal and applying a bindi to the centre between my eyebrows, I hurried back to the middle of my room, which acted as my imaginary stage, and giggled to myself while blushing hard for the upcoming stanza.

Kajal ka ek til tumhare labon pe laga loon

Haan chanda aur suraj ki nazron se tumko bacha loon.

I dabbed some kajal from the corner of my eyelids and applied it below my lips, and then I acted to be completely besotted with my beloved.

Har dum tumhe sochti hain

Jab hosh mein hota hai jahaan

Madhosh yeh karti hain

Moving my fingers around my kohl-lined eyes, I closed them a little and curved my wrists in a spinning motion to show the state of being drunk in love.

My eyes for a second moved outside the window and went downwards at the bushes when I found a boy staring up at me. I gasped and averted my eyes while scurrying back to the door to calm my racing heart.

I counted the rapid beating of my heart until ten and tip-toed to the window again. Hiding half of my face behind the curtain, I peered down the window to check if the boy was still standing there or not.

He was!

“No use hiding. I have already seen you. You dance really well.”

Blushing at the compliment and at my embarrassment, I replied, “Thanks.”

“What’s your name?” The boy asked.

The white lights were dim, and some were already switched off. I could barely make out the boy’s appearance. I could spot a bike and the boy standing beside it, all dressed in a sleeveless grey tank top and black trousers. His hair tousled because of the wind, probably from the bike ride, and his face was half hidden thanks to the dim street lights; he looked no less dreamy.

I wondered how I hadn’t seen this guy before.

“Sameera. Yours?”

“I will tell you if you agree to meet me at the society park tomorrow evening. I am new here, though.”

Taken aback and slightly amused at his forwardness, I said, “I have my dance class in the evening.”

“When does your class end?”

“At 6.30 PM.”

The boy thought for a while before saying. I silently looked at him, wondering what in the fictional novel world I had actually seeped into when he looked up at me again. “I will see you around 7 then. Goodnight.”

Passing me a two-finger salute, he sat atop his bike and sped off towards D-wing. After a minute, I tapped my head and stood in front of the mirror to contemplate what had happened in these ten minutes. Aankhon ki gustakhiyan had finished a long time ago, and Dekha ek khwaab had begun playing.

I rolled my eyes while trying to hide the bright smile on my lips as I glanced at my reflection. Hiding my face in my palms, I closed my textbook and notebook. Placing them on their rightful shelves, I made my bed, and with a strange, warm smile, I went to bed. My mind was now fixed on the boy on the bike outside the window.

***

Taglist: @alhad-si-simran @ramcharantitties @jukti-torko-golpo @navaratna @krishna-priyatama @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @krsnaradhika @kaal-naagin @houseofbreadpakoda @aesthetic-aryavartik

This was supposed to be a short story par nahi hua so maybe with enough motivation I might just end up writing this in parts to fuel my writing with end sems kyunki dimag isn't dimaging well :(

IT'S 1 AM NOW?? HOW BYE I WILL GO SLEEP AND WAKE UP TO STUDY TOMOROW

Also if you want to be added in the taglist, do let me know

[remthegremlin]

show us your ocs! yap about your ocs! i love seeing peoples ocs, and your art styles really cool so i just know the designs eat

MY LITTLE GUYSSSSSS!!!!!!! this is the only updated drawing i have of all of them its just a doodle but theyre here!!! i very quickly colored this so you could properly see them lol

yapping session under cut

from left to right we have ilan, rankis, talx, turtle, jakach (jah-ka-kuh), nicholas, quack, selene, vera, and aaron

ilan ilan ilan!!!! you cant see her pink eyelashes very well here so have this old doodle

rankis my beloved. hes so stupid <3 he’s the best actually, he hates cops and wears white pants into battle cause hes so extra

talx!!! he’s mute and uses sign language btw! he’s a TALL BOY, 6’5! hes the silliest <3 i only have this doodle bc i updated his design and everything else is outdated ₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄ᗣ‾᷅ )̧̢ ���₎

unfortunately for turtle her art is too old for me to want to share. im sorry turtle. shes cool as fuck too, she fights with sound and carries a boombox purse. i need to draw her once hermit may is over.

jakach is a little impy guy <3 he’s very electric, like an eel. hes very proud of his outfit. hes a proper little gentleman with that suit vest. he very despeeately does not want people to be scared of him. hes best friends with selene and quack. i think about my ocs more than i draw them i also need to draw him more (i keep tweaking his design its my fault lol)

NICHOLAS STRATT. nich for short, spelled n-i-c-h at his insistence. hes a bastard. i love him. his morals are terribly compromised but its not completely his fault so he can be fixed. quack is determined to get him to fix himself. speaking of quack i will go on forever about their relationship (its platonic for clarity lol, nich is 20 years older than her) if asked to. they are THE rivals/friends of all time. he occupies so much of my brain space its embarrassing

QUACK MY BELOVED. she was the first, shes been bouncing in my head since i was twelve. quack is but a simple human trying to fight authoritarianism in a world of magic. shes doing better than most actually. she is very devoted to her craft of bullying nich until he changes his ways. its going. she is in every single one of my notebooks somewhere

like any good artist i have too many aus for my characters so theres mostly tma au doodles in here cause theyre the most recent lmao. archivist quack <3

SELENEEEEEEE SHES SO PRETTY IM SCARED TO DRAW HER. same with ilan actually. anyways selene is a special kinda mage she gets her spells from a book rather than naturally like rankis or talx. she manipulates gravity and casts spells with her voice <3 i love her

vera!! i also just redesigned her shes very fun. shes a fae, shes also a monster like jakach. unlike him tho she doesnt care that people find her scary. she enjoys watching the chaos of her friends/teammates while poor selene and aaron have to do damage control

and finally aaron. hes so tired. so sick of his employees shit. how is he supposed to fight in a war when the dumb fucks he employed keep blowing up cities? hes trying his best. and is also on the run for breaking necromancy law. its a whole thing. he’s got prosthetic legs that he likes to take off and joke that hes skipping leg day. quack will not stop bothering him but unfortunately hes too fond to do anything about it. hes totally not fond of his employees why would you say that

thats themmmm!!!! sorry this is so long lol but if you like them yay!!! if you ask me about them again i will implode with happiness and yap forever and ever. tumblr please dont break