#so I wanted to do something “short” and “quick” to try to highlight some of his... quirks

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY - Journal #6: Route 0 Days 67-80. [MASSIVE SPOILERS]

//Yeah, I wanted to play as much of this game as fucking possible. Pumped as hell because I'm for sure at the home stretch now.

//I distinctly remember some people who read my previous journals didn't give much away, but they were telling me that I was really gonna enjoy this next portion of gameplay.

//And you guys were definitely right about that. The Moko chapter of this route and the horrific imagery we saw of that definitely got my heart racing, but this was an emotional pummeling of its own.

//It interests me that the more we go along and the closer we get to Day 100, the worse things seem to get for us.

//One of my biggest highlights of this section is that it actually reprimanded a lot of the problems I had with the Tsukumo Twins and their initial character arc in the story, even though Ima, for reasons we covered at the end of the last journal, is mostly absent for this one.

//But I digress. We've got some shit to cover, so let's just get into it, and as always...

DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS POST IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED/SEEN THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY. I WILL BE TALKING ABOUT VERY SPECIFIC PLOT POINTS AND MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE GAME.

//So let's get started:

DAY 67:

//To give a quick recap as to where we left off, things have kind of brutally hit the fan.

//The group is reeling after the devastating loss of Moko, only for things to get worse the next morning. The captured Invader escapes under suspicious circumstances.

//The crisis deepens when the Tsukumo Twins go missing. Kako returns alone, injured, revealing that the Invader escaped with Ima, a new team member who had just begun fitting in.

//Worse yet, the group is trapped inside the school by surrounding flames, with broken fire extinguishers and no way to escape or resupply.

//For now, it's up to Tsubasa to prepare the Fire Extinguishers so we can go after Ima and potentially save him, but again, I wasn't holding my breath. This game has clearly shown that it's more than willing to kill off its main characters with reckless abandon. If Ima came out the other side of this as a corpse, I wouldn't even be surprised.

//Leave it to Kodaka to cut character arcs short, hahahaaaa...

//Anyway, today was another day of just Free Time, so not much really happened. However, I was curious whether or not the Report Card had changed now that we had confirmation that Moko was dead. Because she did appear in the file once she joined the group.

//Turns out I was right, because Moko's character sprite in the Report Card is darkened. Which...yeah, she's basically never coming back I guess...

//Interestingly, Hiruko still isn't blacked out, which suggests that MAYBE she could return? But it's been two months now since she went missing. I'm not holding out for a hero.

DAY 68:

//So Darumi gained the ability to read minds and see through the fourth wall!

//In other news, as expected, Kako is depressed over losing her brother, so she won't leave her room. Tsubasa is still trying to fix the extinguishers, but it's pretty challenging work, even for her.

//However, on top of all that crap, we now have another NOTHER problem! As Nozomi comes into the cafeteria and...collapses.

//Now, I kind of saw this coming, because Nozomi has been working herself to death trying to take care of "Moko" and now she should be winding down, but curiously, she mutters that her condition has something to do with "rejection symptoms."

//Takumi, Kyoshika, and Kurara take her to her room, and she's gonna be bedridden for a while. And unfortunately, these two clowns STILL for some reason think Takumi wants to have his way with her, so they're guarding her, and he can't ask her for any follow up questions.

//Nozomi already let her guard down enough to tell Takumi that the circumstances on which she joined this war are a bit different from the rest of us, so of all people, he's the one she's most likely to choose to open up to. But so long as Takumi is being cockblocked by these two, it'll be a while before we get our next Nozomi Lore DumpTM.

//So yeah, more Free Time ensues.

//I actually got a little miffed with this one, because right now, I've been trying to focus on leveling up my social stats/grades so that I could get it to a high enough level and upgrade my equipment. Like my traps and potions and stuff, because I'd like to have some of these in a higher quality.

//However, while getting the stats is simple enough, I don't currently have enough resources to craft/upgrade them. Which means I need to go on another search mission to get what I need.

//But on top of Nozomi being indisposed, meaning I can't as readily go out and get the materials I need, since my healer isn't here to keep the party spick and span like usual, but even if she was here, I can't go out anyway because the EXTINGUISHERS ARE BROKEN!

//The ONE TIME I actually WANT to go on one of these missions, I can't! GREAAAAT!

//It's especially bad when upgrading the thing I REALLY want to boost, which is the Spring Traps.

//No, not THAT ONE!

//Spring Traps, since I haven't brought it up yet, are craftable devices you can use in battles that let your characters bounce to distant areas on the battlefield with no movement cost. Really useful if you need to get someone around, however they are very limited in supply and need to be upgraded to get more, just like every other special equipment.

//But these one's are SO EXPENSIVE! Not only are they resource heavy, but you have to have Level 3 in Social Studies, Gym, AND Linguistics in order to raise them to a level higher than 2!

//WHY!? And why those three stats in particular!?

//Eh whatever...this sucks...I must be turning into Gaku because I have the worst luck in the world.

//Anyway, we end the night with another Karua scene and...this is the last one we have for what feels like a WHILE. The game even points out that this is the last one we see.

//And we actually don't get much from this one. We just see Karua taking care of a stubborn Takumi who is sick in bed. Apparently, so is his mother.

//Most of Karua's scenes in the game tend to hint towards situations that happen to Takumi in subsequent days of the story. For example, the first one was of Takumi finding Karua after she got lost, and then the very next day, needs to employ those same skills to rescue Eito from a difficult predicament.

//And then we have the scene of them at the fast food place, where Karua asks Takumi what he'd do if she woke up one day and didn't know who he was. Subsequently leading to Takumi meeting Nozomi for the first time, who seems to be Karua with amnesia.

//This one's a little different because this time, it's NOZOMI who's sick, not Takumi. So the connection is not too clear this time.

DAY 69:

//THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY YOU MADE A SPECIAL UNIQUE MORNING ANNOUNCEMENT TO CELEBRATE DAY 69!!!??

//This is normally the part where everyone (myself included) would make a really unfunny joke and say "nice" or some bullshit! But these jokes write themselves!

//Sirei's English Voice Actor in these scenes sounds like he's struggling to read these lines with a straight face, and is even laughing in the middle of it. I don't see why else he would let out those sudden breaths like that. But hey, the man does his job right.

//And hilariously, as Sirei says in this clip, for today and TODAY ONLY, the background music that you hear every day in this game is replaced by a rock and roll cover of it.

//AWESOME! lmao!

//At the same time though, is this an implication that the BGM, at least when we're inside the school, is canon? I'm...not sure what to make of that honestly.

//Anyway, today was actually a lot better in terms of the group's mood, largely because Kako made her grand return.

//...much more quickly than I thought she would. I seriously was thinking she might up and vanish for a few days, but no, just the one.

//Kako reveals that after their battle with the Imposter Moko, she and Ima made a promise. Should one of them died during the war, the other wasn't allowed to follow them into death.

//Apparently, it was a reversal of their old vow.Originally, they swore never to be apart, having only ever relied on each other and distrusting outsiders. But their time at the Academy, and the compassion they received despite their past behavior, changed their perspective.

//She also shares that the night before, she had a dream, or rather, a memory, of Ima from their childhood. In it, he told her that isolating herself and crying wouldn’t fix anything, and that nothing would get better unless she took action.

//Remembering this gave her the strength to keep going, and now she's more determined than ever to find and save her brother.

//Takumi even points it out in the scene, but it feels a lot like his own dreams/memories with Karua.

//And in the back of my mind, I'm thinking maybe something is happening to us that is triggering these memories. Maybe it's related to the Hemoanima or something, but it seems convinient that Takumi, Kako, and Shouma all had dreams/memories about their past that have proven to be very relevant to whatever current situation we are in.

//I'm willing to bet the rest of us are having these same dreams, and most are just not talking about them.

//I really like the character progression with Kako here. And it bounces back on Ima in some regard as well. Previously, most of the scenes the twins got, which wasn't that many because they weren't frontline fighters for the longest time, most of their scenes had Ima be the dominant character in them.

//It sucks that he's gone, but at least it gives Kako more space to actually be a character independent of her brother, even if her motivation is still to rescue him.

//And she's very slowly encroaching best girl territory now that she has a chance to flaunt her (not physical) stuff.

//She immediately proves to be a massive G, as she gives Takumi the opportunity he needs to talk to Nozomi, by asking him if he can help her carry some water to her room. Apparently, Kako had a vision that not only was Nozomi in trouble, but that Takumi helped her out of it. So she gives him the chance to get by Kurara and Kyoshika's oppression and talk to her.

//The girl is a legend, but unfortunately...said talk doesn't go too well.

//Takumi earnestly wants to help Nozomi, but Nozomi feels like she's being pitied because she happens to look like Karua. Despite his insistence, and despite her willingness to open up to him, and despite the fact that she's really badly sick, she doesn't cave to him, or tell him about her symptoms.

//During today's Free Time event, I wanted more of Kako, so I spent some time with her. There was this really funny scene where she admits that she's trying to figure out who in the academy she would kill and how if she were to commit serial murder here.

//It's okay though; it's for a novel she's writing.

//I'll be completely honest. I haven't spent all that much time doing hangout events in this game. I probably should, but when it comes to increasing stats, they're pretty nonessential in comparison to just giving gifts that the characters like.

//But the downside is that it means I miss out on awesome conversations like this one, and the one where Kurara threatened to shoot Gaku. Which is a bit disappointing.

DAY 70:

//Day 70, which means we only have one month left, and we're basically done with this school. Feels kinda surreal that we're at the home stretch now.

//And with it comes some good news, and some bad news.

//The good news is Tsubasa successfully managed to repeat the fire extinguisher, which means we should be able to leave the school again.

//The bad news is we can't rescue Ima, because we need to school bus if we're going to catch up with the invaders that took him, we need the school bus. And even though Tsubasa was able to repair the extinguisher on THAT, the bus itself is still currently out of gas.

//Thus, Takumi, Eito, and a very enthusiastic Kako head out with the new pump to get some.

//Standard exploration mission here and we achieve our goal, but THANK GOD my FLAME LEVEL FINALLY WENT UP ONE!

//Does this thing only get stronger every month!? I've seen this shit go up to at least Level 6! Is there any way I can make it better myself, or do I just wait for plot progression?

//Someone please genuinely tell me. I don't want to be playing this game wrong.

DAY 71:

//I got really scared when Sirei's morning announcement got interrupted, but thankfully there was no alarm. Just Kako showing up, super excited to rescue her bro.

//She's adorable~

//But yeah, like Kako says in this dialogue box, we go to hold a strategy meeting in the War Room for what we're going to do about rescuing Ima and recapturing the prisoner. Fortunately, we already had a plan set in motion.

//Apparently, Yugamu had a hunch that Shouma might try something suspicious with the prisoner, like helping her escape, so as a precaution, he secretly planted a transmitter on her.

//He doesn’t reveal exactly WHERE he hid it, which is more than a little unsettling...but it at least gives them a way to track her now that she's gone.

//What's more important though, is he explains that he kept this move to himself because he suspects there might be a traitor among them.

//FUCKING FINALLY someone says it out loud!

//Even if it's just a hunch, it's such a goddamn relief to hear that someone else is starting to realize their group could be under attack from within!

//I should also mention here that interestingly, Eito was the first to dismiss Yugamu’s theory, which is a little too fast and defensive for comfort.

//Now, with Ima in enemy hands, a strike team has been assembled to rescue him. Takumi, Tsubasa, Kako, and Shouma will be the ones heading out to face whatever threat is out there.

//Hi yes, hello, HOW?

//Daddy wants to drive the bus today~ Daddy wants to drive the bus~ Little bit of daddy bus drivin'~ Daddy wants to drive the bus~

//Also, real talk, why does this CG on the bus look like it was drawn by a completely different artist in a completely different style? This looks like a painting!

//So yeah, we get on the bus, and Tsubasa drives us all the way to where the prisoner's signal is being transmitted, BUT-

//It leads us...to an ENEMY BASE.

//We don't have sufficient enough firepower to storm this place and rescue Ima, so we currently have no option but to retreat and inform the others back at the school.

//Which...I kind of call bullshit on? We've fought this many Invaders in WAY fewer numbers. Four people, which is what we HAVE, is typically what we use for scouting parties?

//Eh, plot says no.

//I was really worried at this point that Kako might do something reckless, like storm the base herself, but thankfully, she seems to have more common sense than that. So we table the issue for the next day.

DAY 72:

//I gotta say, I do love it when you get to see the characters talk war strategy. It really makes the situation we're in feel more authentic, especially when we don't have Sirei, Hiruko or Nigou here to instruct us.

//But suffice to say that things have gotten a TAD complicated.

//The problem we face currently is we need as strong a strike force as we can muster to raid the enemy base and potentially rescue Ima if he's there, but at the same time, we can't leave the school defenceless either, which means the team is gonna have to split up for now.

//It takes a bit of discussion, but Takumi, Shouma, Kako, Eito, and Takemaru all agree to go fight the Invaders at the base, leaving Darumi, Tsubasa, Gaku, Kurara, Kyoshika and Yugamu to defend the school.

//However, it's not all doom and gloom, as Kurara sends a message to Takumi revealing that Nozomi is willing to speak to him.

//I do love it when Nozomi gets to be the plot girl. As I've said a few times before, I ADORE the worldbuilding and lore of this game. It's not something Kodaka really does with Danganronpa a lot, and when he does, it's usually in his less-impresssive projects (DR3 and Ultra Despair Girls) but DAMN is he good at it in this game! Tribe Nine too as a matter of fact.

//Takumi goes to meet Nozomi, and kicks off the conversation by telling her that he's no longer comparing Nozomi to Karua, true connection be damned. I know for a fact that this isn't gonna be the end of the mystery though, even if Takumi doesn't keep searching for it.

//Especially because there's an interesting little scene here when Takumi finally namedrops Karua to Nozomi.

//I think there's a little bit more to her reaction here than her just reacting to Takumi bringing it up. I think the name is familiar to her, even if she doesn't quite know why.

//But we don't get any more details on that in this conversation. We DO however, get a pretty hefty lore dump on the truth behind this war! Including Nozomi confirming something that I had GUESSED a long time back!

//Something that, I'll be honest, WAS pretty obvious, but even so, score!

//I'm effectively about to paraphrase what she said, purely because I'm super into this lore. So I hope you guys don't mind.

//Nozomi begins her explanation by finally revealing the truth behind her mysterious illness. The “rejection symptoms” she previously mentioned are actually her body reacting negatively to the Hemoanima within her. Essentially, her own blood is rejecting her.

//Until now, everyone, including Takumi, believed that Hemoanima was simply the result of their blood being altered when they stabbed themselves with their Infusers. They were told that the Infusers themselves were tools that allowed them to access their Class Armor and Weapons.

//But Nozomi explains that this understanding is incomplete. If Hemoanima were just a byproduct of the infusers, then anyone could use it.

//The reality is that the infusers don’t create Hemoanima, they AWAKEN it. They only work on individuals who already possess a rare type of blood that contains dormant Hemoanima.

//Everyone at the academy, including Takumi, was chosen precisely because they carry this special blood. Which is exactly what I predicted when I played the prologue for this game.

//This rare blood type is called "Cryptoglobin." A term coined by Nozomi’s mother, who was a leading researcher on the subject.

//Cryptoglobin is no ordinary blood. It has bizarre, almost supernatural properties that can’t be explained by current medical science. It can shift between liquid and solid states at will and reacts directly to the host’s emotions, especially aggression and willpower. In essence, it’s combat-adapted blood, seemingly designed for warfare.

//HOW CONVINIENT!

//Nozomi’s mother conducted her research at Kamukura General Hospital, which, while appearing to be a normal hospital, was actually a covert Cryptoglobin research facility.

//This ties back to a memory Shouma once shared, where he recalled seeing everyone being treated like test subjects at that very hospital. The experiments aimed to infuse Cryptoglobin into ordinary people, but most attempts failed, with Mrs. Kirifuji's subjects consistently suffering from violent rejection symptoms.

//Now that Nozomi herself is experiencing those same symptoms, which in itself confirms she was one of the experimental subjects in her mother’s trials. Though she did say before that she was one of her mother's experiments, and now we finally have context for that line.

//The very power that lets her fight is also what’s slowly killing her. This is why she’s always been hesitant to use Hemoanima in battle, though the demands of fighting the Invaders eventually forced her to draw upon it, and triggered her condition.

//Worse still, Nozomi admits she doesn’t know whether the rest of the group was born with Cryptoglobin or had it successfully implanted by another, more advanced experimenter. As far as she knew, she was the last surviving subject, meaning Takumi and the others' origins, and the truth of their abilities, are still largely a mystery.

//We get a lot more information about how Nozomi fits into this dychotomy of plot dumps later, but there are other things to cover here.

//Unfortunately, there’s no known medication that can effectively treat Nozomi’s rejection symptoms, or at least, none that’s currently available to us. However, there was one method she and her mother previously experimented with that showed temporary success.

//One of Cryptoglobin’s more disturbing traits is its cannibalistic nature. It has the ability to absorb other Cryptoglobin to increase its own power. Essentially, the blood strengthens itself by consuming more of its kind.

//Takumi quickly connects the dots, as this is basically what we've been doing to the enemy Commanders every time we beat them. We absorb their Hemoanima, or rather their Cryptoglobin, and they end up as blackened mummies as a result.

//So we've been unintentionally harnessing this cannibalistic feature of Cryptoglobin the entire time, absorbing the blood of fallen enemies to enhance our own power.

//However, this also comes with a chilling confirmation that the enemy Invaders ALSO possess Cryptoglobin. Which suggests a direct connection between the Invaders and the experiments that created the Special Defense Unit.

//However, Nozomi can’t shed any light on this connection, since her mother never mentioned anything about Invaders during her research, leaving this piece of the puzzle frustratingly unresolved.

//My personal theory at the moment is that all of us are secretly part of the Invader's species ourselves, or that we're at least a cross-breed between regular humans and Invaders. The latter theory would explain why we transform into uniforms, while the Invaders turn into giant monsters.

//Returning to Nozomi’s treatment, in one of their more desperate trials, her mother injected her with additional Cryptoglobin in an attempt to force-feed her blood with more of its own kind.

//The result caused the rejection to stop, at least temporarily. The theory is that her blood, when given more Cryptoglobin, stabilized by absorbing and integrating it into itself. It wasn’t a cure, but it worked, for a time.

//This is enough for Takumi though, and he comes up with a plan. If absorbing a Commanders Cryptoglobin will stop Nozomi's symptoms, then the only choice is to take her with us to the enemy base when we raid it, hoping to find and fight one of them, then have Nozomi get the killing blow on it.

//As it turns out, Nozomi isn't the only one coming with us either.

//After Nozomi declared she would be joining the vanguard, Kurara had Kyoshika tag along with us to serve as Nozomi's bodyguard and protect her.

//Which I am MORE than happy about because Kyoshika is at least a solid 40% of DPS on this squad. She's constantly heralded as one of the best units in the game when it comes to damage dealing, and I can indeed confirm this to be the case.

//Takumi, Nozomi, Eito, Takemaru, Shouma, Kako, and Kyoshika board the bus and head out toward the enemy fortress, ready for what could be their most critical mission yet. Once we arrive, our next big battle ensues.

//The operation kicks off with a unique challenge that we haven't actually seen yet. The goal is to eliminate all visible enemies in a SINGLE TURN using strategically placed explosives scattered throughout the battlefield.

//Basically the closest we get to a stealth mission in this kind of game.

//Also, because she's still suffering from her rejection symptoms, Nozomi enters the battle already slowed and slightly injured. Which is not good for her, because Nozomi has very little health to begin with.

//Also, at this point in time, I was wondering that if Nozomi was having a rough time with her ailments, why she didn't just use her healing abilities to get rid of them, lol? She literally cures every stat condition in the game, including stun!

//Then again, the hemoanima abilities themselves are what's causing it, so I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't work.

//Once the "stealth" section ends, the real battle begins. The team unleashes everything they’ve got.

//What follows is a grueling boss fight against a surprisingly menacing enemy commander. The commander pushes them hard, but thanks to smart team coordination and relentless stacking of damage thanks to Last Yell, we eventually overwhelm him.

//Seriously dude, Last Yell makes this game SO EASY! I sometimes worry about using it because it just means the battles aren't a challenge anymore.

//Nozomi lands the finishing blow—her first time dealing the final strike to a commander. And thankfully, absorbing the Commander's power does the trick, and her rejection symptoms vanish. It’s not a permanent fix, but for now, it buys her more time.

//In more unfortunate news, Ima doesn't appear to be in the base after all; but OF COURSE HE'S NOT! It was stupid to even assume that things were gonna work out and we were just gonna get him back that easily.

DAY 73:

//The search for Ima lasts all night, but there's still no sign of him.

//Fortunately, we don't return empty handed!

//UNfortunately...we don't return empty handed.

//Eito finds a mummified corpse drained of it's Cryptoglobin inside a small room of the base. A very unexpected surprise, but fortunately, it's not Ima's body.

//But it IS apparently the body of the Invader Commander with purple hair that we captured!

//STOP KILLING THE HOT GIRLS!!!!!

//Sorry! I'm a little MAAAD!

//Well, there goes my potential 16th party member. I wonder how this might change on the other routes honestly, because her having a character icon on the map CANNOT have been a coincidence.

//Eito claims that another enemy commader must have done this to her, but is confident that Ima isn't dead yet, otherwise we would have found his corpse here too.

//Everyone seems to agree, but...did they already forget what happened to Moko? Why is nobody coming to the conclusion that they're going to invaderize Ima just like they did with her?

//I mean, later on they say that the ability the Commander used to copy Moko was an ability unique to it, but that doesn't mean they can't do similarly terrible things to him.

//And we do actually see that later, but...spoilers. Anyway, in the meantime, we've got no choice but to hea back to the school, which has been fine in our absence thankfully.

//One other thing I want to mention here is that Shouma goes into a bit more detail about why he felt such a kindred spirit for the enemy Commander, and treated her so nicely.

//Shouma acknowledges that, yes, the enemy commander was technically our...well...ENEMY. But that doesn’t stop him from feeling genuine sympathy for her.

//While she was held captive, he remembers hearing her cry through the night, as if she desperately wanted to return home. It struck a chord with him, and he started to wonder if she had something, or someone, waiting for her, just like all of us do.

//He reflects on how everyone in the group continues to fight because they’re driven by the hope of returning to someone they care about at the TRC. Whether it's family, friends, or the life they had before, they’re all fighting for the same reason. To protect what matters to them. Shouma believed the Invader might have shared that same longing. He dared to hope that beneath her alien nature, she had something relateable.

//Kyoshika, however, coldly dismisses the idea. She insists the Invaders aren’t human in any sense and therefore can’t feel things like longing, grief, or love. Clearly still very hung up over how they treated Moko, which is more than fair.

//But Shouma pushes back. If the Invader was truly devoid of emotion or self-preservation, why did she surrender in the first place? Why cry? Why beg for life?

//That kind of desperation, he argues, doesn’t come from programming. It comes from a WANT to survive, and to return to something meaningful. He had hoped that if he could bridge the gap, learn her language, and understand her thoughts, he could uncover the truth behind her actions and perhaps find common ground.

//But now that she’s gone, that fragile possibility is lost. Her death has left him full of conflicted emotions. He didn’t just want to spare an enemy—he wanted to understand her. And now, he never will.

//Like...I LOVE Shouma in this scene. And there's never been any point more where I've just wanted to give the guy a hug!

//What he's saying is correct, and entirely fair, and yet everyone is coldly dismissing it (or at least Kyoshika is) like a bunch of warmongers. And he seems to be the only one with any genuine empathy or understanding that this war appears different to both sides.

//He understands that we are the bad guys to the Invaders just as much as the Invaders are bad guy's to us. And yet in the end, he himself is so self-loathing that he settles on himself being the one in the wrong.

//It's just painful, man. I feel so much for Shouma in this whole situation, just as much as I do for poor Kako. I know this is an impossibility at this point, but I wish Shouma would find it in him to put himself first for once.

DAY 74:

//MORE LORE YIPPEE!

//Before we get into that, there's a few things to mention.

//First off, is Yugamu the only smart one here? Why is HE of all characters the one bringing up all the points I make?

//A couple days of him missing, and his disappearance literally happened the DAY AFTER we found otu Moko was an Imposter, and yet Yugamu is somehow still the first person to bring up the possibility that they might somehow screw with Ima, or make him an enemy or some shit!

//Granted, he does specify in this scene that they couldn't use Ima the same way they used Moko because he's pretty sure only one Invader, the one we already killed, had the power to copy our abilities. But that doesn't mean none of the other Invaders have abilities that are SIMILAR. Or at least similarly fucked up.

//On a lighter note, I notice that Takemaru has been crying a lot in these scenes recently, and it's funny that every time, he always comes up with a different excuse as to why he's crying.

//But yeah, that aside, Nozomi suddenly asks Takumi if she can come by his room later, and when she does, she finally gives us a lot more context on the story she fed us before about her condition. Not so much on the war itself unfortunately, but more of an explanation as to why she's here and how.

//First of all, as we kind of got hinted at before, unlike the rest of the group, who were recruited or forced into joining Last Defense Academy, Nozomi enrolled willingly. And she had two deeply personal reasons for doing so. First, to carry on the dream she shared with her mother, and also to seek revenge for her mother's tragic fate.

//Her father had died in a car accident when she was very young, and her mother, though loving, was almost never home due to her demanding work (which is the same case for Karua as we know.) But when her mother WAS around, she would confide in young Nozomi, sharing details of her research like they were secret stories meant only for the two of them.

//These intimate talks became the only real connection Nozomi had with her mother. Through them, she learned about the devastation caused by World Death, the truth of the Tokyo Residential Complex being a subterranean shelter, and the grim reality that humanity’s days were numbered unless drastic action was taken.

//Nozomi basically knew all of this stuff even before Nigou told the Second-to-last Defense Academy group, and before they told the rest of us.

//At the time, Nozomi didn’t understand the full implications. She just saw her mother as a hero, someone working tirelessly behind the scenes to save the world. But as she got older, those bedtime stories started to take on a darker tone. She began to grasp the depth of her mother’s desperation and the ethical gray area of her research.

//Her mother devoted everything to the project: her time, her health, and eventually her relationship with her daughter. Her life's mission was to unlock the potential of Cryptoglobin to make humans capable of wielding its power.

//But when her experiments began to repeatedly fail, and management cut off further testing, her mother made a fateful decision. When Nozomi was in the upper grades of elementary school, her mother sat her down and asked Nozomi to become her test subject. Not out of malice or cold ambition, but out of desperation and love twisted by purpose.

//Shockingly, Nozomi agreed. At the time, she felt proud to be useful, proud to help her mother’s dream come true, and above all, glad that this meant they’d get to spend more time together. She admits that she was essentially brainwashed, convinced by her mother’s idealism and her own desire to matter.

//On a day when the hospital staff were off-duty, Nozomi accompanied her mother to the lab, and they attempted a transfusion of Cryptoglobin into Nozomi’s own body. Her mother clearly struggled with the ethics of experimenting on her own daughter, but Nozomi, young and naive, didn’t see the problem at the time. In fact, she remembered those days fondly, not for the pain or danger, but for the rare moments she got to be with her mother.

//However, the procedure didn’t work. As the experiments went on, Nozomi began to show increasingly severe rejection symptoms, and her health started to deteriorate. Despite the setbacks, her mother continued to push forward, until everything came crashing down.

//Just as Nozomi entered high school, her mother took her own life.

//She left behind a note containing fragments of her remaining research and final thoughts. According to the note, Cryptoglobin was meant to be humanity’s salvation, and a tool to fight back against what her mother referred to as "the enemies of mankind".

//Enemies we can now assume are the Invaders.

//She believed that if she could create stable Cryptoglobin carriers, those people could stop World Death and ensure humanity’s survival.

//But despite her years of work and personal sacrifices, the higher-ups abruptly shut down her research. They never explained why. No final review. No closure. Just silence. After pouring everything into her mission, and risking even her daughter’s life to complete it, Nozomi’s mother found herself abandoned and discarded. It BROKE her.

//Nozomi wasn’t just heartbroken when she found out. She was just furious at the cold, uncaring system that chewed up her mother and spat her out.

//After her mother’s suicide, Nozomi couldn’t just move on. Grief gave way to obsession, and she found herself repeatedly sneaking into Kamukura General Hospital, desperate for answers. She wanted to understand why the administration had suddenly cut off her mother’s research, and why the project that had consumed her mother’s life was so abruptly shut down.

//During these covert visits, she discovered files and restricted data revealing the existence of a newly-formed Special Defense Unit composed of teenagers who possessed the power of Cryptoglobin.

//I.e. Takumi and the others.

//Whether they were born with it naturally or someone had succeeded where her mother failed didn’t matter. What mattered to Nozomi was the grim realization that she and her mother were no longer needed. The project had gone forward…just without them.

//Digging deeper, Nozomi learned that the mission of these Cryptoglobin-powered teenagers was to destroy the enemies of humanity and, ultimately, save the human race. Exactly the goal her mother had spoken of with so much passion and hope.

//But then, a thought occurred to her: what if she could continue that dream herself? What if, by joining the Special Defense Unit, she could prove her mother’s work had been worth something after all? Maybe then the people who had shut her down and effectively killed her would be forced to recognize her contributions. Maybe Nozomi could redeem her mother’s legacy.

//On her final trip to the hospital, fate presented an opportunity. While sneaking through a restricted area, Nozomi stumbled upon what we currently believe to be a transport chamber housing Takumi and the others, unconscious and sealed in pods, clearly being prepared for deployment.

//Without hesitating, she climbed into one of the empty pods and hid. The next thing she knew, she had arrived at the Second-to-last Defense Academy, alongside Kurara, Yugamu, Moko, and Kyoshika.

//However, Nozomi chose to keep everything she had learned, and everything she had done, to herself, with Takumi being the first and only person she confided in about this. She felt that the others were angry about being dragged into this war, forced to fight without their consent as humanity’s final defense.

//If they found out that Nozomi had entered this world willingly, knowing what it meant, they might see her as complicit in the system that enslaved them. Worse, if they learned her mother had been one of the researchers responsible for the Cryptoglobin program, they might suspect her of being involved in the conspiracy itself.

//Nozomi didn’t want to risk being ostracized, especially not after everything she had gone through just to be there. But at the same time, the deception weighs heavily on her. Every time she sees how broken, afraid, or angry her friends are, she feels the guilt tighten around her.

//I just really like the way they handled this scene. The dialogue is great, the lore is incredible, and the emotions are real. And I'm really hoping it pays off in these final few days.

//One other interesting thing we find out here is that Nozomi has no recollection of the TRC getting attacked by the Invaders. Which is odd, but at the same time, this is the second time we've seen this phenomenon.

//Hiruko claimed she'd been fighting off the Invaders for a long time before she arrived at the school, which is why her stats were so much higher than ours. Yet Takumi and the others never knew about it.

//But this also made me think about another thing that happened MUCH MUCH earlier on in the story, which I kind of didn't pay much attention too at the time, but with that scene of Hiruko and now this one with Nozomi in mind, it takes on a bit of a different meaning, and it's this one:

//At the time, this really does just feel like a mistake Sirei made, because it's not too out of character to him. But when I watched NicoB play this game, he picked up on it, and thought there was more to it than this.

//At the time, I thought he was reading between the lines a little too much. But now, looking back, I'm not so sure.

//Did the fight at the TRC not happen then? That could have very well been a VR simulation or something, since we know we have the tech for it. But then what do our families think happened to us?

//I really have no clue what this plot is setting us up for. I hope the payoff is great when we get closer to Day 100.

DAY 75:

//Another Free Time day today, but there are a couple things to note.

//First of all, Yugamu has been spending a strange amount of time away from the cafeteria in the morning. Hell, for most of the day, he's locked himself up in the bio lab, and I discovered at some other point that I can't even take him out for exploration missions.

//Same for Nozomi, even though she's doing better, because she's locked up in there with him.

//Good news though. I knew today had to be the day it happened, but we finally got more VR missions.

//Albeit only one, and the BP increase is only slightly higher than before, but hey, I'll take it. Especially since it gives me more of a chance to use Ima now that he's...indisposed.

DAY 76:

//I only have one real highlight for today, and it's not really a good one. The breakfast conversation this morning was honestly really awkward.

//Kurara is feeling uneasy about how close Nozomi and Takumi have gotten recently, and she's both confused and upset that Nozomi would be involved with Takumi, whom she still sees as a creep.

//Eito tries to defend Takumi by reminding everyone that he already has Karua back at the Tokyo Residential Complex. However, this backfires when Kurara recalls that Takumi once said Karua and Nozomi resemble each other, leading Kurara and Kyoshika to accuse him of projecting Karua onto Nozomi.

//Meanwhile, Darumi wants us all dead just because we’re "normies."

//Also, I'm stupid, because I didn't realize until this point that Kako and Ima aren't actually high-schoolers yet. They're still both middle-school age, and it wasn't until Kako said so here that I figured that out.

DAY 77:

//Okay, so first of all, before I say anything else about this day...

//How!? How is that already a thing!? Why do you guys know what sunscreen is!? You HAVE NO SUN!

//Can someone actually explain this to me, because this is fucking with my brain! Takumi didn't even know what the MOON was before coming to Last Defense Academy!

//Like, they must have SOME kind of substitute for the sun in the TRC, because Tsubasa and Takemaru wouldn't be that tanned if there wasn't, but even so, is it ever actually explained anywhere? Like in one of the books? Have I missed it?

//Other things of note. For both today and the previous day, Takumi tells everyone that he and Nozomi have become close friends, but every time he does, Nozomi looks a little downtrodden. I guess she's being friendzoned because she thinks Takumi likes Karua?

//Alsom Gaku and Eito are up to something. Which I don't like, for obvious reasons.

//I'm gonna be honest, this day was SHIT. I did NOT have a nice day today.

//Despite knowing it was probably a bad idea, I decided to go exploring today, even without Nozomi at my side. My flame level had increased, unlocking new areas and giving me access to more content, so I figured I’d take advantage of the opportunity.

//Unfortunately, that meant leaning heavily on save scumming just to keep my party alive, and I had to reload more times than I care to admit.

//In the end, it was all for nothing. I gathered a ton of loot and resources, but none of it was remotely useful. I was specifically looking for tech-related items, and somehow walked away with everything BUT that. It was frustrating, exhausting, and honestly kind of demoralizing.

//I finally threw in the towel and decided I won’t be venturing out again until Nozomi is back and available to join me. Without her, the whole thing was a nightmare, and not one I’m eager to repeat anytime soon.

DAY 78:

//Can someone tell me why 78 is a special number? Or is the game just trolling me? Because I am genuinely curious, and it feels like it could be a number of things, yet none of them feel right.

//So yeah, Eito and Gaku apparently set up a special festival in the gym for Kako to enjoy herself at, since she's been super depressed the whole time since Ima went missing, and has just been putting on a brave face the whole time.

//Kudos to Gaku for being a nice guy thinking about others for a change, even if he did screw up the music. But again, I got really nervous with this scene because it feels like Eito and Gaku forgot what happened the last time we gathered everyone together was.

//I'm talking about when we had a barbecue and we woke up two days later to find out all our food had been burnt. What's stopping that from happening again?

//In fact, why HASN'T that happened again? If we lose this batch of food, we're royally screwed! Whoever did it could easily just do it again, even if it took a while.

//Then again, I guess there's more of us to keep track of now, so it's not gonna be that easy. By coincidence, Shouma is the only one who avoided getting drugged last time.

//Kako is cute in this scene as always.

//Honestly, I really don't have much to say about the festival itself. Nothing really happens, we just get to cheer Kako up a little bit.

//The only other meaningful moment during the festival comes when Nozomi opens up and confesses that part of her feels deeply sad. They’ve created something special here, and the thought that they can’t stay like this when the 100 days are up weighs on her.

//Takumi listens and then admits that, for better or worse, being drafted into this war has become one of the most defining chapters of his life. Even though they’ll eventually return home and go their separate ways, he tells Nozomi he genuinely wants to stay connected, to remain friends with everyone, no matter what the future holds.

//I couldn't really focus on all this though because I was shitting myself, waiting for something to happen. But nothing really did. Some of us slept in the hall because we partied all night, but everything was fine-

DAY 79:

//I SPOKE TOOO SOOOOOOOOON!

//We woke up after spending the night sleeping in the gym, only to discover that the school is under attack! The Invaders have broken in, and the alarm didn't even sound!

//We obviously can't fight them off without our Hemoanima, so we need to get to the War Room and grab our Infusers. As Darumi puts it, the game has now shifted genres: it’s basically a stealth game, and our current objective is to make it to the war room without being spotted.

//I'm not gonna lie, this segment is INTENSE! And it genuinely gave me the heebie-jeebies! You can't pause the game, you can't check the map, and the rising heartbeat sound that signals an enemy is nearby does a great job of cranking up the tension. It’s GENUINELY nerve-wracking.

//Thankfully, I managed to get there in one piece. I first I thought that during the festival, someone had fucked with the alarm system while the rest of us were having fun, which means we now have to keep an eye out for enemy attacks ourselves, making things even MORE difficult for us. But thankfully, the alarm system seems fine.

//Turns out the invaders breached the school by tunneling in from underground. There's a huge swarm of them, and only four of us are on the field to begin with—Takumi, Gaku, Kurara, and Kako. Darumi splits off from us to go clean the Invaders that got into the school building out, and to wake up the others who went back to their rooms.

//Soooooo the odds are not in our favor.

//Good on you, Kyoshika!

//We also get another transformation sequence here, this time from Eito’s perspective, which we've already gotten once before, and I wasn't expecting to see it again honestly.

//This actually made me wonder if there's a possible route or alternate storyline where Eito becomes the main protagonist instead of Takumi. The way the scene plays out definitely plants that seed in my head.

//The good news is the rest of the squad shows up not long after, though I didn’t even realize Yugamu was missing at the beginning of the fight. That tells you how chaotic everything was.

//Also, CHRIST, this battle is NO JOKE! Even spamming the everloving fuck out of Last Yell to persist through the rounds, it’s surprisingly tough and drags on longer than expected, lasting for 5 rounds, which is the longest any of these fights have been so far.

//But when the invader commander shows up, and the situation gets even worse, because...

//WUUUH-OOOOH! Who could have seen THIIIS COMMIIIING!?

//Yeah, it seems to have somehow absorbed Ima into itself, which is… unfortunate. To make things even more difficult, hitting the commander directly causes damage to Ima, so we’re forced to hold back until we can come up with a strategy that doesn’t hurt him.

//Kako is getting absolutely steamrolled by the narrative, just like how Nozomi was. She's been depressed for basically this entire chapter, and everything’s coming at us so hard and fast, and the game isn’t pulling any punches.

//Yeah, I alrea kind of said it, but this was, without a doubt, the most hectic, chaotic and overwhelming boss battle we’ve faced so far. The first three rounds were tough enough on their own, but things went off the rails in round four when both Takemaru and Kyoshika were suddenly absorbed by the damn thing, just like Ima.

//Then, FINALLY, Yugamu makes his entrance. Turns out, the entire time he was missing, he’d been developing a bioweapon specifically engineered using the commander's DNA. It’s designed to target Commanders only, which means we could potentially use it to neutralize the enemy without harming our absorbed teammates.

//In a shocking twist, Nozomi is the one who ends up delivering the poison. She sacrifices herself, allowing herself to be absorbed by the commander in order to get the bioweapon into its system.

//To be honest though, I was a little confused on first watch of this scene, and I would appreciate some clarification. I actually thought Nozomi had taken the poison HERSELF and used her own body as a vector. I’m still not 100% sure, since that part is kind of ambiguous. Maybe she was just holding the poison when she got grabbed, or maybe it was all part of her plan.

//Also, despite the buildup, the actual climax of the fight was oddly...anticlimactic...

//Mostly because Last Yell is so fucking busted, it ended things quickly once the setup was in place.

//I decided to let Kako land the final blow; after everything she’s been through, it felt right to give her that moment of closure.

//Still, I have to say, the BP reward for this fight was seriously underwhelming. Five full rounds of combat and all the emotional carnage, and we end up getting like...2000 something?

//Unfortunately, the victory is bittersweet. We managed to defend the school and survive a seemingly hopeless battle, but the aftermath is rough. Takemaru and Kyoshika are a little woozy, but ultimately fine after getting free.

//Ima, on the other hand, has been inside the commander too long. His DNA had begun fusing with the creature’s, and while Yugamu’s bioweapon did its job, it worked too well. It targeted Ima as well because of the genetic overlap.

//Ima himself is, SOMEHOW, still alive, but he's indefinitely comatose, and his body is slowly decaying. Because his DNA has been screwed with, we can't bring him back with the Revive-O-Matic either.

//Unfortunately, because none of us are really doctors, nor can we properly heal (WHY DOES NOZOMI NOT USE HER FUCKING HEALING CANNON ON HIM TO FIX HIM OH MY GOD-) our only real option at this point is for Yugamu to do some Robocop shit on him to "Bring him back." in VERY BIG quotation marks.

//Surprisingly, Kako is okay with Yugamu doing this with her brother's corpse.

//Kako makes it clear that as long as there's even the slightest chance to save Ima, she's willing to take it, no matter the cost. She tells Yugamu that she doesn't care what Ima ends up looking like, whether he comes back scarred, altered, or inhuman. If the alternative is letting him die, then it’s worth trying anything. Death, to her, is the only truly irreversible outcome.

//Yugamu, however, to his credit, doesn’t sugarcoat the risks. He warns her that even in the best-case scenario, Ima won’t be able to return to his original form. His body, and possibly his mind, will be permanently changed. And in the worst-case scenario, he could end up as a twisted, mindless creature, unable to speak or recognize anyone.

//But for Kako, even that is preferable to complete loss. A flicker of life, no matter how broken or altered, is still something. It’s still him, in some form. She says she’s willing to take that risk, and shoulder the consequences.

//If, when it’s all over, Ima wakes up and feels horrified by what he’s become, and if he begs for an end, Kako promises she’ll be the one to do it. She won’t let anyone else bear that burden.

//She even adds that, knowing Ima, he’d much rather die by her hand than be killed by the Invaders. And honestly? She’s definitely right about that.

DAY 80:

//Yugamu takes Ima into his "care" and starts modifying him into a new body. We'll have to wait and see exactly how that stuff turns out.

//Nozomi explains during breakfast why she chose to deliver Yugamu’s poison herself, because she mentioned previously that "only she could do it."

//Yugamu mentioned that his poison works by attacking specific cells in the Invader's bodies, but Nozomi suspects that that cell is Cryptoglobin. That means the poison could be deadly to the entire team as well, and we even see it when Takemaru and Kyoshika get out from beign absorbed. They fall sick for a little while.

//Since Nozomi's Cryptoglobin behaves differently in her system, she took the risk, as she figured she had the best chance of surviving long enough to make sure the poison reached the commander without putting the others in danger.

//Free Time came around, and I chose to stop here for today.

Conclusion:

//It was late when I stopped playing. I'd already crammed in hours for this part of the story, and I didn't want it to end! I was so hyped to see what would come next, but I HAD to STOP!

//This game, as I've said before, is so addicting. I loved everything that happened in this part of the story, particularly the fights, which were among the more extreme we've had so far, and the lore dumps surrounding Nozomi, and why we're actually here.

//My takeaways:

Kako has very quickly joined Nozomi and Kurara in the best girl's squad. She was handled really well in this part of the story, and I'm having tons of fun with her. She's so cool and cute.

This arc fixed a few of the problems I had with the twins and their arc earlier on in the story, even though Ima isn't physically present for most of it.

Yugamu got some chances to shine in this part of the story. I love Yugamu, and I think he's really interesting, but the problem is he hasn't been given much of a chance to shine on his own just yet. Not even now. I feel like there's a lot more to him; we just haven't seen it.

The fights are super intense now, and I love it, but at the same time, Last Yell is making them a little too easy in the final parts.

I feel like all the characters are at a point in the story where I like them all a lot, with no real problems with any of them.

This part made me feel bad for both Kako and Shouma; the latter over the loss of the prisoner and his genuine reasons for feeling sympathy for her. I hope in other routes, we have a chance to save her and make him happy.

//Anyway, that's all I've got for now. I love this game. To no surprise. I'm having so much fun as we get closer to the end of this route. Stay tuned for more!

-Mod

[edwad]

hey wad. if you were teaching a class of philosophy undergrads who are largely unfamiliar with marxism, and you could only choose one relatively short marx text to read and discuss, which would you choose that would still, like, give a fairly strong version of his account (ie, one where theres not too many things one would need to unlearn to go into capital)

i'll get the pedantry out of the way first: i think you'd have to spend some time unlearning no matter what tbh. the exposition of capital itself is arguably one of progressive unlearning, so reaching it isn't the end of all confusion (it's also internally incoherent and has been hotly debated for 150 years). it's also basically impossible after 1917 to approach marx as a blank slate, so some level of unlearning would have to happen even if the student was given direct access to the Unmediated Truth. it's wise to want to avoid too many unnecessary redundancies and obstacles (a younger me would've loved to be given a reading solicited by someone like you, asking for this kind of text with these specific concerns in mind), but there are obvious limits.

with that out of the way, i can think of a couple possibilities with the caveat that "relatively short" is a bit subjective, so maybe you're open to something longer or need it to be shorter than whatever im about to say.

- communist manifesto

this one is probably pretty obvious as a starting point, although maybe it's a bit of a surprise coming from me. in some ways, it works because marx continued to publish and comment on it for the rest of his life, so there's a sense in which it provides a way to think through all the phases of his intellectual history beginning with 1848. the highlight, though, is specifically that it does very obviously conflict with so much of what marx says elsewhere, so what you're teaching isn't necessarily a text but actually marx's own ambivalences and the open-endedness of the political project. i recently made a slideshow to talk through the manifesto as a kind of organizing teaching-tool where my goal was basically to open up the text and encourage my audience to think with it in light of its limitations and, in fact, deliberately trying to embrace them. the slideshow isn't perfect and i think a learn'd edwadist could read through all the speaker's notes and be able to spot my occasional oversimplifications and concessions, but i found it to be pretty successful on the whole. there are some moments where i didn't rely on the speaker's notes and instead decided to adlib a bit, so i occasionally introduce something (iron law of wages, etc) without having a written argument for it. if you want more info on any of that sort of thing, just reach out to me and i can give you a quick summary of what i would've said about whatever it was.

- introduction of 1857

this is one which has historically generated a zillion different readings and i think confuses most people, but it's an isolated text which doesn't really belong to anything else. it's often published alongside the grundrisse but really it should be seen as the last text of his london notebooks phase, immediately preceding the grundrisse which develops its own internal suppositions. for that reason, it stands alone in some ways as a kind of theoretically pubescent attempt to consciously reflect on what an adequate social-philosophical inquiry ought to look like. this is far from his final statement on these things and i think too many people view his openness here as definitive simply because it's the only time he so loudly declares what he's doing in this kind of detail, but it should be said that the reason he's speaking in this kind of reflective register is specifically because he is operating in a mode of theoretical experimentation --he is thinking through these questions deliberately not because he's already found answers for them but because he feels that he ought to. writing them down isn't the same as solving them, but that allows the reader (and the hypothetical philosophy instructor) lots of room to work and play with. friedrich sixel has a short book on this 'introduction' which i think is really illuminating and may help tease out some of the directions one could go from it (couldn't find it online but i basically just looked at page 1 of google, so trying harder than me would probably yield success). postone's capital lectures also touch on it (end of lecture 2 and/or beginning of lecture 3 from a quick glance at youtube, but im not bothering to listen through to figure it out rn), although he treats it as belonging to the grundrisse and is, i think, on flimsy marxological terrain in many ways. it is still nonetheless pretty interesting and he hits a few high notes which ive found to be really useful over the years.

- selections from capital

if you want to avoid unlearning before capital, you could always just consult the holy text itself. it would be a slog to tackle head on, but maybe you could find a particularly illuminating chunk of text to work through. i think the whole of chapter 1 would be great, especially with a competent instructor who knows how to parry student demands on the text (why doesn't marx do this instead, can it account for my grandma's false teeth, etc), but i'm fully aware how tedious that might be for an undergraduate reader so im wondering if the fetish section might work. it's marx in his literary mode dealing with the social implications of the dry boring stuff from earlier parts of the chapter, so if some of the basic categories (use-value, etc) are given brief coverage it might work as a way of approaching the heart of marx's critique and his concern with capitalism, as well as providing some methodological commentary (although, you would basically be reading him explaining why you shouldn't read this section in isolation, and the hegelians would be right to burn me at the stake for making the suggestion). if you needed any supplementary material on this, perlman's introduction to rubin (or even his reproduction of daily life) would probably work fine for the most part, especially alongside heinrich's lecture on value, fetishism, and impersonal domination.

[kwillow]

As an eligible young noble of no small fame, Ambroys had a number of arranged courtships and suitresses in his youth, but any nascent marriages always fell through.

It's not that he didn't try; he certainly knew how to court a lady (perhaps too well, according to many fathers and husbands), and when he lacked knowledge on the affairs of womens' hearts, he sought counsel from a young woman who was a dear friend of his (perhaps too much counsel, according to his own father). Nonetheless, all he garnered for his efforts was separation after separation.

Ah, well. Maybe it was for the best.

[3hks]

How to Write a Character with THAT *Sad Aura*

Have you ever stumbled upon a character, who, despite radiating wholesome, positive energy, also has a subtle undertone of sadness? It's kind of intriguing, isn't it? If you've ever wanted to write a perhaps more complex character or explore writing emotions, why not check this out?

What am I talking about?

Let's do a quick introduction as to what I mean. I've said this a couple times already, but to the reader, this character feels despondent even though they act nothing like it. This doesn't mean they have to act happy all the time (like my first example); they might act cold, or apathetic, but the point is they don't act visibly sad.

This faint melancholic mood provides a charming, or even nostalgic feel to the audience through ONE character! Isn't that kind of fun?

Eye Expressions

This character will not show sadness on their face--that contradicts the idea of "sad aura". But you know what they say, right? Eyes are the windows to the soul; they do not lie!

When trying to highlight some of this unhappiness, write about their eyes. Talk about how their eyes look oddly dim sometimes when they smile, or how they don't meet their friend's eyes when they laugh. These cues are simple but powerful.

Adverbs

You always have to be mindful of adverbs, but here especially, adverbs (and adjectives) unconsciously influence how your audience views the character.

For example, avoid saying too much of "smiled brightly" or "talked excitedly". If these are the adverbs you purposefully want to use to portray your character, then by all means! However, these adverbs add a happier connotation, which you must be aware of. If you want something more neutral (which I recommend for the most part), consider using lighter adverbs/adjectives, such as "smiled softly", or "offered lightly".

Reasons

A reason is normally needed for almost everything. Here, you want genuine reasons to back up why your character doesn't ask for help, thus forcing them to work through their unhappiness alone.

This could be because they think other people can't solve the problem, they don't want to bother others, they don't think their issue is a big deal, or they simply believe there's no solution.

Physical Hints

And if all this isn't enough, then drop some physical hints! Perhaps your character gets distracted often, tends to hesitate before speaking, deflects concerned comments with jokes, or has a hard time acknowledging reassurances, even when it's unrelated to their personal troubles. These habits suggest the idea your character has more than meets the eye.

Mood Changes

When people are upset, their mood tends to fluctuate. For most of us, we're typically upset for a short period, so we cycle through emotions such as anger, sadness, and even joy during these moments.

However, if your character is consistently sad, not just for a day or two, their mood might shift on different days. Maybe they're really tired one day, hardly speaking. Maybe the next, they are more frustrated, snapping at people or ignoring them. Maybe the day after that, they are overly energetic, bouncing everywhere and talking all the time, providing a bit of whiplash.

Purpose

Similar to having a reason for their reluctance of reaching out, you also want to ensure that they have a purpose for fighting. Why haven't they given up yet? This is especially crucial when considering the real world, where feeling upset leads to a lack of motivation.

So, what keeps them going, then? Do they want to fix their regrets? Do they want to change?

Backstory and Actions

To be honest, I wouldn't consider a backstory an absolute necessity, but I highly suggest creating one. Why? Because you can accurately identify the reason for your character's guilt, regret, and sorrows from the past with an actual backstory.

The events of your character's past always influence their future actions.

For example, if they were a part of a severe car accident in the past, perhaps they only feel comfortable when they are the driver in the future because that means they can control the car.

Conclusion

This character is not especially different from any other character, besides the fact that they are neither obvious nor overly secretive of their genuine feelings.

With that being said, focus on embodying their eye expressions, be careful about which adverbs and adjectives you choose to use--I recommend choosing ones with more neutral connotations for a sense of melancholy, explain why your character keeps their sadness to themselves and why they keep fighting despite it, show mood fluctuations, drop physical hints, such as actions and/or specific personality traits, and make sure to connect their past to their present!

Happy writing~

3hks ^^

[cheol-e-kat]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉, 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. 𝒌.𝒎𝒈

pairing:   kim mingyu / f!reader 

summary:  y/n just wants to settle into the place she is subletting from soonyoung, but sadly, the sublet is for her and a roommate whom she hasn’t even met - soonyoung’s mysterious friend ‘mingyu’ 

but mingyu can’t even be bothered to show up for coffee, much less to pick a couch for their shared space

worse, she has to deal with an asshole at work when all she wants is some peace and quiet and her own bedroom

genre: roommates au, workplace au, unreliable narator

characters: porn actor!mingyu, bartender!mingyu, makeup artist!reader

word count: 2.9k

rating: 18+, mdni, explicit

warnings below cut

warnings: drinking, explicit language, penetrative sex, messy sex, slight noona kink, implied role play

she had given up texting ‘mingyu’ - she hadn’t even met him, so she felt like she could pretend he was barely a real person, especially since he was climbing the list of her worst roommates so far. 

he was allegedly a friend of soonyoung’s and meant to be subletting his apartment with her, but so far, she’d literally seen nor heard from him. she was starting to think he was soonyoung’s alter ego, à la fight club. 

but she really couldn’t be bothered to keep trying his mobile when she had work to do - a job she had agreed to take only after her friend begged her. she wasn’t really one for being on set for porn films, especially when it was crowded and there were so many dicks swinging freely. she generally worked on set for magazines where the dicks were at least covered to some degree or being shown off tastefully. 

from what she could gather, it was a giant casting call - there were ‘stars’ and hopefuls all lining up to get photos taken, audition, and even to be filmed in a single day. it seemed more based on the fact that the location was only rented for two days than anything else. 

she had been there for hours - her feet were tired - she was tired. and the guy in her chair was obviously tired since he kept nodding off. 

she had glanced at the sheet he brought along - a short description of what needed doing. for him, they wanted a ‘dewy’ look with a very ‘rosy’ cock. she had seen ‘wet’ looks, and ‘grunge’ looks, but ‘dewy’ was certainly new. she wondered who picked these adjectives.

initially, she hoped to work around the fact that he was tired, but she finally gave him a gentle poke in the cheek. “hey, sleeping beauty, can you just sit up a bit for me?” she asked, trying to be gentle.

he sat up, shooting her an annoyed look as he did. she set about trying to capture ‘dewy.’ but he slumped again and caused her to streak foundation across his face.

she wanted to scream.

she shook his arm. “hey - seriously, i need you to sit up for this,” she said sternly as she started to clean up her mistake and try to salvage things within her timeframe. 

he apparently used the time she was correcting things to stew because when she was kneeling down to attempt this whole ‘rosy’ cock business, he muttered something about her just being a makeup artist.

she shot him a sharp look. “right, i’m just the one in charge of making you and your cock look as good as possible on film so that maybe you get this job - so completely pointless, right?” 

she rolled her eyes, wondering where some random guy at a casting call for ‘big dicks 19’ got off thinking he had any business commenting on anything she did. even if he was hot. and had a nice dick.

 she had dealt with plenty of assholes and was in no mood. she was quick finishing, using a bit of glitter spray in strategic spots to highlight his natural build - she wasn’t going to half-ass anything just because he was a cunt. and then she was done and waving him along to whoever else he wanted to be an ass to that day. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

and after working her magic on what felt like a million sweaty bodies, she got to pack up and go home. she had the only key to the apartment right now. she hadn’t had the chance to put her bed together or really unpack, even - but she happily flopped on her makeshift bed, aka her mattress on the floor. she took a quick nap before waking up, ordering some dinner, and taking a fast shower while she waited for food to arrive. 

she didn’t bother trying to catch up with mingyu again. she wasn’t that worried, especially since he was already paying his half of things. for all she cared, he could never move in - that would suit her just fine. 

she did call soonyoung, though, to let him know his friend was still a no-show. 

soonyoung had hummed, “i mean, i know where to find him - i would have thought he would have shown up by now - i know he hates his current roommate.” he sounded perplexed. 

“i mean, i don’t hate having the place to myself,” she said with a laugh.

he sighed. “fair, but i’m leaving in a few days - you two should at least meet before i’m out of the country.” she could hear the not-so-subtle suggestion in his voice.

“i guess send me an address,” she groaned. 

she had had no plans of going out. in fact, she had planned to enjoy being totally alone in a gorgeous apartment that she was so far only paying half the rent of. 

instead, she was getting dressed for some bar - she had looked it up. there wasn’t a dress code, but it was on the fashionable side. she felt like she had an outfit that would work, actually - insanely high-waisted trousers, cute bralette, vintage leather jacket, platform heels, and chunky earrings. 

she had maybe been rewatching killing eve and channeling the feels she had for villanelle’s wardrobe. she slicked her hair back a bit and was ready to meet her mysterioso roommate. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

she grabbed a cab and met soonyoung outside the bar. it had a hole-in-the-wall vibe, except for the fact that she noticed several people she had worked with, as in people who got in front of the camera. but soonyoung seemed to know how to skip the line, opting for going in through the backdoor.   

inside, it was really busy and definitely cramped. it was poorly lit, as any good bar should be, and there was the warmth that came from too many people in too small a space. a girl was walking around offering to take polaroids - a cute touch. they managed to order drinks before anything. 

she sighed, watching people wander by, flashing brilliant smiles as they went off to dance or whatever else one might get up to in a bathroom. 

after two drinks and the day she had had, she was pulling soonyoung away from a conversation to ask where mingyu was in the crush of people around them. it was why she was there, after all. 

“which one is he?” she all but shouted her question.

he glanced around and finally oriented himself enough to point towards the bar. “he’s the tall one with black hair and no tattoos.”

she glanced towards the bar and groaned at what felt like a sea of people separating her from it. she thought soonyoung was going to introduce them, but he was engrossed in catching up with a friend. 

she was left to make her way through the crowd - to her, it was like taking the train, she leaned with the crowd so she didn’t get crushed by it. 

and when she finally made it to the bar, she was relieved that there was only one tall guy with black hair and no tattoos. but when she made eye contact with him, her mood dropped through the floor. 

mr. dewy-skin-rosy-cock.

he seemed to make the same connection, flushing and deftly swapping positions behind the bar with one of the other bartenders. which only worked to irk her. she might have been in shock, but to see him actively avoid her only worked to renew her irritation. 

once again, she wondered, who the fuck was he? slinking away like some ridiculous little boy who had gotten caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. 

she was quick to glance around for something to get his attention. but not seeing anything fitting, she fished one of the very perfect oversized ice cubes out of her drink and threw it.

she watched it fly through the air, almost in slow motion. she bit her lip gently, knowing it would hit him - just not knowing how perfectly.

it hit him squarely in the back of the neck, just above his shirt collar. 

she almost giggled at how good of a shot it was. instead, she quickly glanced down at her drink, stirring it innocently, before he had time to whip around and make eye contact with her. 

she sipped her drink before slowly looking up to see him staring at her, a look of complete disbelief coloring his face. 

his disbelief was replaced almost immediately. he looked like he possibly wanted to kill her. she smiled and gave a small wave, pointing to her drink for a refill.

it wasn’t like he could prove she had thrown the ice cube.

he stalked over, his eyes signaling rage despite his customer service smile. 

and before he could even ask what her drink was or reprimand her, she was leaning across the bar and introducing herself.

“i’m y/n - you’re new roommate,” she held out her hand in greeting, offering her best smile.

she was sure she could see his soul briefly leave his body at the realization. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 

she knew mingyu watched her sitting at the end of the bar. 

it was cute, though, that he kept refilling her drink. maybe a bit annoying that he seemed to water it down more and more. she just ordered a second one to counter it. 

she hung around, glad for her late nap she had taken. she was in the perfect mood to flirt with the other bartender, the one with tattoos and the aussie accent, especially as the crowd started to thin and he wasn’t as busy. 

he didn’t water down her drinks like some mother hen. 

and when she offered to show him a trick, he was game.

“bet,” he said with a laugh.

“bet what, though?” she asked cutely. “i know i can do it.”

he shook his head, “naur, love, i don’t believe you - you can’t tie a cherry stem with your tongue,” he watched her, his gorgeous eyes taking her in. 

she nodded. “but i can.” 

she smiled and popped the maraschino cherry between her lips, eating the fruit and holding onto the stem. he watched her, appraising the situation. 

“instead of a bet, what if i get a prize for doing it?” she whispered teasingly - she was loving his accent - she could only guess he would dick her down like there was no tomorrow. his black tshirt and jeans didn’t leave much to the imagination. 

she watched the cute smile that flitted across his lips, “yeah, love, anything you want.” he whispered, his voice low and sweet.

she was certain his words went straight to her pussy. still, she popped the cherry stem into her mouth and, after a few seconds of work, stuck her tongue out, the little knotted stem sitting perfectly on the tip of her tongue. 

“no way,” he whispered, laughing softly, genuinely surprised.

she laughed and held it out to him, “aren’t you glad you didn’t bet?”

he smiled, giving a soft nod. “impressive,” he whispered, taking the knotted stem. 

he glanced up at her and started to say something. 

but mingyu stepped in.

“hey, can you cash out the tab at the other end? it’s yours,” he said flatly. 

she pointedly watched him walk away before finally glancing at mingyu. 

“go home,” he muttered. 

she leaned on her hand, “why? i’m having fun.”

he was wiping the bar and shaking his head, “you’re just sticking around to bother me.”

“and why would i do that? i barely know you,” she pouted.

he shook his head again, “look, i’m sorry about earlier”—

“yesterday now, i think,” she interrupted.

he glared, “whatever,” he said in exasperation, “i’m sorry - i was tired and in a bad mood. i shouldn’t have been rude.”

“so you’re trying to cock block me because you’re sorry?” she was confused. 

but she saw the flush in his face. 

no, she smiled to herself, he was cock blocking her because he thought she was cute. so fucking cute, she thought.

“and what are you going to give me if i’m a good little girl and go home?”

he shook his head. “different game,” he muttered. 

she laughed softly, “tired of that one after today?”

he nodded, barely glancing up from what he was doing.

she put her hands flat on the bar, leaning a bit closer. “you’re so beautiful,” she whispered. 

she could see the way red crept back into his cheeks. she smiled softly, just a gentle curling of her lips, knowing she hit the right note. 

she leaned closer, her fingertips brushing his, “want me to go home and wait for you, gorgeous boy?” she bit her lip gently, her voice syrupy, “so i can take care of you after your long day, baby.” 

she watched the tiny nod he gave her. 

“closer,” he responded, his voice barely audible. he kept his gaze trained on the bar. 

she smiled. “you know where i am, at least.” she stood up to leave - she had already closed her tab. 

she didn’t mind leaving. she was glad to walk outside and feel the rush of fresh air. she had no clue when she would see him.

 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 

it was nice to be home again. even if she had fun, she was always tired after staying up past her bedtime. 

she took another shower and cleaned her face and teeth. she had dressed in a tshirt and underwear - just in time for her to hear a soft knock on the door. she grabbed an oversized cardigan and went to open the door. 

it was the first time she could genuinely look at him without the rush of anyone else’s schedule or their existence bothering her. she tilted her head, watching him. it wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how he looked the day before - it’s that she had been noticing him in a way that she needed to for work - what to highlight, what to conceal (barely anything). 

but now she could see that he looked tired. there was no customer service smile. just eyelids growing heavy, even as he was standing. she trailed her fingers gently along the door until she reached the handle and turned it slowly, quietly. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 

“did you take the bigger room?”

she glanced up from her phone, “maybe we can share,” she offered, sitting up. she watched him towel off - she smiled at the lazy way he let the towel drop to the ground. something about seeing him so easily expose himself was - she couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her lips. 

she leaned back on the bed, opening her legs wide for him, dragging her fingers along her already slick pussy lips. “come here,” she whispered. 

she bit her lip, watching him walk closer and drop to the bed. she grinned when he caught her thighs and pulled her down to him. 

he kissed her more softly than she expected. she thought he would be urgent and hungry. but he was soft and needy.

when he finally pulled away, sighing softly, “sorry, i didn’t text sooner.” 

he smiled as he said it. she shook her head, “liar.”

“but now i get you like this - all to myself - just you and me and your gorgeous cunt,” he teased.

she hadn’t known who he was the day before when she had given him a soft slap for being a bitch - she had loved the way he whined and pouted. 

they were already supposed to meet. 

she could feel his cock teasing her open. she pushed his shoulder. “lie back, let me fuck you.”

she straddled his hips and eased back slowly on his dick, moaning as she sank down, feeling his hands covering and squeezing her tits. her head dropped to the side - she knew she had done what she wanted, taking all of him. 

her head swam. his dick was somewhere deep in her stomach, she was certain. and when she started to slowly move, she heard his soft moans - his cute whining. she reached down, tracing her finger along his lips. “so perfect,” she smiled, pressing her fingers into his mouth. riding him slowly while he licked and sucked her fingers was, fuck, she almost considered edging herself to make it last. she pulled her fingers away from him, loving that he whimpered for her.

she picked up her pace, though, riding him faster. bouncing on him - his fingers digging into her hips, leaving red marks.

“yes, noona,” he whispered, “just like that - make me come,” he gasped softly as she started fucking him faster, wanting them to both come. 

she was breathless, “good, baby?” she could feel beads of sweat clinging to her skin.

he nodded, looking up at her dazedly, “harder,” he whined, guiding her hips downward, pushing her to take all of him. she cupped his cheek gently, nodding.

and with a moan, she reached for the wall behind him for leverage, “such a fucking brat,” she groaned in pleasure, loving the stretch she felt as she took his cock, even as her thighs were starting to burn. 

but then she felt it - she felt him - the heat of him filling her, just as she dropped down completely, her pussy clenching around him as she came too. 

and that was when he suddenly put her on her back, picking her thighs up, fucking into her fast and desperately. 

“come again,” he rasped, looking at her like he was demanding it - demanding that she come for him. 

he pounded into her until suddenly she was coming - she was coming. waves and waves of pleasure that were so delicious, she could practically taste it. and the lewd sounds coming from her pussy were the most perfect sounds. 

he fell against her. she hugged him and petted him. 

“so perfect, baby,” she whispered. 

a/n: if you don't play bingo with me i have to make my own and it is idk kind of fun ...smhhhhhh sighhhhhhhhhh - i'm lying btw...

♡ kat

♡ my [master list] if you want to read more

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, leave a comment

[ full master list ]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐞_𝐤𝐚𝐭

mingyu bingo reqs: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles | internet friends + blind date + size kink |

teasers: mingyuAI [ teaser i ] |୨୧| all but break your heart

drabbles: summer coworker | #kat_drabbles

angst: no blueberries master list (college au)

fluff: waiting to feel foolish (college au) |୨୧| never happened before (magical realism au) |୨୧| hoodies & candy (college au) |୨୧| no strings (magical realm au) [pt. 1]

smut: playing hearts (college au | camboy au) |୨୧| leave it open (monster!mingyu au) |୨୧| openly pining (stepbrother au)

[ taglist ] ☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @halavia [e - drab/one/multi] ☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @ninigyuuu [m - e, b.f. priv] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [m - one/multi, b.f.non] ☁︎

[private-but-not-a-secret]

Forever starts now

Words- 6k ish

The gym was alive with chaos— basketballs bouncing off hardwood, whistles slicing through the air, and the low hum of teenage energy pressing in from every side.

It was late afternoon, and the light from the high windows gave the court a dreamlike haze. The kind of haze where memories could be made without anyone realizing it in the moment

Where one glance— one word— could mean more than anyone would admit out loud.

Paige Bueckers tugged her hoodie over her head, letting it drop onto the nearest bench; her blond hair was up in a messy bun. She wiped her hands on her shorts and grabbed a ball from the rack, feeling its weight settle easily into her palms. 

This camp— USA Basketball’s training for the next elite international team— was packed with talent. 

Top recruits. The future of the game. 

Paige knew the names, had watched the highlights, and had even played against half of the team already. None of it scared her. If anything, it fueled her.

She wanted to be the best.

She was the best— she just needed the rest of the world to realize it.

“Alright!” Coach Howard’s voice boomed over the gym. “Pair up! New partners for the ball screen series. Move, move, move!” 

Paige bounced the ball off her hip lazily, looking around for someone she hadn’t worked with yet.

Before she could pick, she heard it:

“Bueckers! Fudd! You two!”

Her head turned, her heart giving a weird little skip she didn’t understand. 

Azzi Fudd was jogging toward her.

Up close, Azzi was different from what Paige had expected.

The clips didn't do her justice — didn't catch the way she moved so fluidly, like everything was effortless

Didn’t capture the calm on her face, the total focus, the way she seemed to carry an invisible center of gravity that pulled the eye without even trying. 

Azzi’s dark curls were pulled back in a tight ponytail, a sheen of sweat making her skin glow under the gym lights.

Paige tossed the ball lightly to her without thinking. “You shoot, I assist. Sound good?”

Azzi caught it with smooth hands, the ball making a sound.

She tilted her head slightly, the corner of her mouth lifting just enough to be called a smile. 

“Deal,” she said quietly.

Something unspoken passed between them— a current Paige could almost feel humming between her ribs. 

She shook it off. Focus.

It’s just basketball. 

The drill began.

It was supposed to be basic — screen, pop out, catch, and shoot — but with Paige and Azzi, it became something else.

Something better. Sharper. 

Paige's first pass zipped low through a crowded space, a thread-the-needle dart that would’ve clanged off another player’s ankles. 

But Azzi caught it clean without breaking stride, rose to her shot, and flicked her wrist. 

Swish. 

Paige raised an eyebrow, impressed but playing it cool. 

They reset.

Another screen, another pass, this one higher, softer, needing a mid-air adjustment. Azzi didn’t flinch. 

Gathered.

Released. 

Swish.

The other pairs around them were messy — fumbled passes, miscommunication, balls bouncing off the rim. 

Paige and Azzi? 

They were silent, smooth, unspoken

Like music. 

By the third perfect shot, Paige let out a low whistle and grinned. “Damn. You some kind of sniper or what?”

Azzi shrugged, modest but not falsely so. “Just practice.” 

Paige bounced the ball back to her, watching closely. “Must be some damn good practice.” 

Azzi smiles — a little wider this time — and Paige felt the tug of it low in her stomach, quick and confusing.

Focus. 

It’s just basketball. 

But every time their hands brushed during a handoff, Paige felt her skin light up like someone who had touched a live wire. 

And every time Azzi caught her pass without even looking, something deep inside warmed — a quiet, secret pride she didn’t know how to name.

By the end of the drill, the coach was nodding approvingly.

The other players were sneaking glances their way.

Paige and Azzi ended with a simple high-five

Their palms met, skin against skin, just a second too long.

Neither pulled away immediately.

Paige caught Azzi’s gaze — dark brown eyes steady, unreadable — and for a heartbeat, the noise of the gym faded.

Just the feel of Azzi's hand against hers, the electric charge of something starting

Then they let go, almost at the same time. 

Too fast, like they were both afraid someone else might notice.

Paige shoved her hands into her short pockets and heard thudding hard enough that it felt unfair. She looked down, pretending to retie her shoe.

Get a grip, Bueckers.

Azzi, meanwhile, turned smoothly and jogged to the water station. 

Her face felt hotter than it should; she blamed it on the workout.

Neither of them spoke again for the rest of the session.

But every now and then, Paige would catch herself looking across the court, finding Azzi’s shape instantly in the crowd.

And every time, without fail, Azzi was already looking back. 

Practice ended in a swirl of noise — the sharp tweet of a whistle, the thudding of basketballs being bounced one last time before players scooped them up and headed straight for the sidelines. 

Sneakers squeaked a final rhythm against the wood as everyone rushed to be first in the showers, first to claim dinner, and first to collapse into the beds of the athlete dorms.

Everyone but Paige.

She sat on the floor by the far wall, legs stretched out, her back pressed against the cold metal of the bleachers. Her hoodie was draped loosely over her knees, her phone forgotten beside her.

She should’ve been checking messages, texting home, maybe making fun of coach’s brutal practice playlist with the other girls.

Instead, her eyes kept sliding across the court—searching

There.

Azzi.

Still out there, alone.

While everyone sprinted for food and freedom, Azzi Fudd stayed behind, working through her shooting form with the same intensity she’d had when coaches were watching. 

She stood at the free throw line now, bouncing the ball three times before each shot, pausing to square her shoulders, and rising into a perfect release. 

Paige watched the ball hit the back of the rim and drop through without a sound.

Another.

Another.

Another.

Paige wasn't even pretending to look away anymore.

There was something about the way Azzi moved — the quiet focus, the refusal to rush even when the gym had emptied— that caught Paige by the ribs and wouldn't let go.

It wasn’t flashy.

It wasn’t cocky.

It was just… real.

Azzi chased down her own rebound, jogged to the right wing, and started again. This time, quick threes — catch, rise, release, reset — each one nearly identical to the last.

Paige leaned her head back against the bleachers and smiled without meaning to.

She didn’t know why she was still sitting there.

She could tell herself she was tired, or waiting for a trainer to ice her ankle, or scouting the competition. 

All lies.

The truth was simpler, dumber, and more dangerous. 

She just liked watching her.

Azzi made basketball beautiful— and Paige, for once, just wanted to sit still and feel it. 

Minutes passed, slow and golden.

The gym emptied further. A couple of trainers zipped up their bags and wheeled carts of basketballs into storage. The big overhead lights clicked off one section at a time, plunging the gym into deeper shadows.

Only the far side, where Azzi stood, stayed lit. 

It felt almost private, like Paige had stumbled onto something she wasn't supposed to see. 

Like maybe this was the real Azzi Fudd — the version not for cameras or coaches or teammates— just a girl who loved the feel of the ball leaving her fingertips clean, pure, perfect. 

Paige hugged her knees to her chest, chin resting on her arms, breathing quietly. 

She could’ve watched for hours.

And then — 

Azzi stopped.

Held the ball against her hip.

Turned, almost like she could feel the weight of being watched.

Their eyes met across the gym — an electric shock of connection, sharp and undeniable even from forty feet away. 

For a moment, neither of them moved. 

Paige’s heart slammed against her ribs, too hard, too loud.

Should she look away? Pretend she’d just been zoning out? Laugh it off?

Azzi made the decision for her.

Slowly, she smiled — not the quick, polite one from earlier, but something smaller, softer. A real smile.

Paige smiled back, feeling suddenly stupid and fourteen again, like some freshman staring at the varsity star.

Azzi dribbled the ball once, lightly, and then made a gesture — a little flick of her head, like you coming?

Paige hesitated only a second before pushing herself up and jogging across the court.

Azzi handed her the ball without a word.

Paige caught it, grinning now, and squared up at the top of the key.

“Bet you I make it first try,” she said, cocky and teasing, because confidence was easier than honesty.

Azzi crossed her arms loosely, eyebrow raised. “Bet what?”

Paige thought for a second. “Loser owes winner a Gatorade tomorrow.”

Azzi nodded once, serious, like it was the biggest bet in the world.

Paige bounced the ball twice, settled her feet, and rose into her shot.

The ball clanged off the front of the rim.

“Ooof,” Azzi said, biting back a smile.

Paige threw her hands up dramatically. “The lighting’s bad! I was cold! There was a draft—”

Azzi laughed, the sound warm and golden, and Paige felt it sink straight into her skin.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” Azzi said, stepping up.

She didn’t rush.

Didn’t posture.

 Just caught the ball from Paige, tucked a curl behind her ear, and let it fly.

Swish.

Of course.

Paige clutched her chest like she’d been shot. “Ruthless.”

Azzi just smiled — small, shy, triumphant.

Paige felt her stomach flip over and over.

Not because she’d lost.

But because she was already starting to realize something dangerous.

She liked being around Azzi Fudd.

Liked it too much.

In a way that had nothing to do with basketball. 

The gym doors swung shut behind them with a loud bang, sealing off the sounds of bouncing balls, shouting coaches, and the entire noisy, familiar world they’d just come from.

Outside, the air was cooler than Paige expected — crisp, smelling faintly of pine trees and damp asphalt.

The heavy sky above was streaked with purple and gold, the last breath of sunset fading into the edges of night.

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.

Paige kicked at a crack in the sidewalk with the toe of her shoe, feeling awkward in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She wasn’t someone who got awkward. She was Paige Bueckers. Loud, funny, fearless.

But something about Azzi made all the easy things — the jokes, the comebacks—stick in her throat.

Azzi adjusted her backpack strap on her shoulder, the soft fabric of her hoodie brushing against Paige’s arm as she did.

Barely a touch, but enough to make Paige hyper-aware of the distance between them.

Or the lack of it.

“You always stay late?” Paige asked, her voice louder than it needed to be in the soft quiet.

Azzi smiled a little without looking over. “Sometimes.”

Paige shoved her hands deeper into the front pocket of her hoodie.

“Not trying to show off?”

Azzi laughed under her breath, a low sound that sent a weird shiver down Paige’s spine.

“No. I just… like it. When it’s quiet.”

Paige risked a glance at her.

Azzi’s face was relaxed, calm, but her eyes were far away, like she was somewhere else entirely.

The way she walked, too, slow, measured, like she wasn’t just walking to the dorms but moving through a world she was carefully choosing to be part of.

Paige swallowed.

“I get that,” she said quietly, surprising herself.

Azzi turned her head, the overhead lights catching a gleam in her dark eyes.

“You do?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes it’s easier. When… It’s just you and the gym. Nobody is expecting anything.”

Azzi’s mouth quirked, like maybe she was surprised Paige understood.

Or maybe she was just letting herself believe it.

For a few steps, they walked without speaking.

Their sneakers scuffed softly against the concrete.

The only other sounds were the rustle of trees and the faint hum of distant traffic beyond the campus.

It should’ve been awkward.

It was awkward, but in a strange way — like something fragile and new was stretching between them.

A thread, thin and gold, shimmering in the night air, tugging them closer.

Paige felt it in her chest, tight and fluttering.

They reached the long path that curved toward the dorms, lit by a scattering of old lampposts.

The light pooled around them, soft and golden, casting long twin shadows behind their steps.

Paige glanced sideways again, catching Azzi looking straight ahead, lost in thought.

She wanted to say something. Anything.

Crack a joke. Tease her. Ask her favorite pizza topping.

Anything to keep Azzi walking next to her just a little longer.

“You’re… crazy good, you know,” Paige said finally, voice a little rougher than she meant.

Azzi smiled, small and almost shy.

“Thanks,” she said, like she didn’t hear that every day — like it actually meant something coming from Paige.

“You’re like… smooth,” Paige continued, fumbling. “I dunno how else to say it. It’s not just the shot. It’s like… you move like you’re in control of everything. Without forcing it.”

Azzi turned to her then, really turned, her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

No one talked to her like that. Not about how she played.

Not about the parts of it that were invisible — the feeling, the rhythm, the soul.

Paige bit her lip, suddenly self-conscious.

“Sorry. That sounded dumb.”

Azzi shook her head. “No. It didn’t.”

She said it so simply, so firmly, that Paige felt a little dizzy.

They walked another few steps in silence.

Azzi’s shoulder brushed Paige’s lightly, just from the natural sway of their bodies.

Neither of them moved away.

Paige’s hands itched with the urge to reach out — grab her wrist, her hand, anything — but she kept them jammed deep in her hoodie instead.

The weight of what wasn’t said hung heavy between them.

Finally, Azzi broke the tension with a soft laugh.

“You’re pretty good too, Bueckers.”

Paige shot her a grin. “Pretty good? That’s it?”

Azzi bumped her lightly with her hip.

“I mean… decent passer. Okay vision.”

Paige gasped, pretending to be wounded.

“Wow. Just throw me under the bus.”

Azzi laughed again, easier this time — the kind of laugh that made Paige’s chest ache in a way she didn’t have words for.

“You’re alright,” Azzi added teasingly, like she was handing down a royal decree.

Paige bumped her back, harder this time.

Azzi bumped her again.

And suddenly they were half-wrestling their way down the path, laughing too loud in the quiet night, the tension breaking like a snapped rubber band.

It felt stupid and light and perfect.

Paige was grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.

They reached the dorms too soon.

The heavy glass doors glowed ahead of them under the floodlights, buzzing faintly with moths.

Neither of them slowed their steps, but neither of them really sped up either.

Paige tugged on her backpack strap, heart thudding.

“I owe you a Gatorade tomorrow,” she said, voice casual, but her hands suddenly sweaty.

Azzi smiled sideways at her. “I want blue.”

“Blue’s a cop-out flavor,” Paige teased. “Be original.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Surprise me.”

Paige nodded, even though her mind was racing.

Surprise you.

Sure.

But how did you surprise someone who already felt like a miracle?

When they pushed through the doors, the warm lobby light spilled over them.

Their hands brushed again — a tiny, accidental thing.

And this time, Paige didn’t move hers away right away.

Neither did Azzi.

Their fingers slid against each other — barely touching, just enough to feel — a soft, slow-burning spark.

Paige swallowed hard.

Azzi didn’t say anything. She just smiled, small and secret, and walked toward the stairs.

Paige stood there a second longer, trying to catch her breath.

Trying not to look after her.

Failing.

When she finally followed, her chest felt light and tight at the same time, like maybe the ground had shifted beneath her without her noticing.

She didn’t know what was happening between them.

She didn’t know what it meant.

All she knew was this:

She didn’t want it to stop.

The next afternoon, the gym was humming with noise.

Sneakers squeaking against polished hardwood, basketballs pounding the floor in chaotic rhythms, and the sharp whistle of the assistant coach cutting through it all.

Paige wiped sweat from her forehead with the hem of her practice jersey, glancing around.

Coach had decided today would be a full-speed scrimmage. No drills, no lectures — just play.

Hard. Fast. No mercy.

Paige lived for days like this.

She could already feel the adrenaline buzzing in her veins, the electric anticipation of competing — of showing off.

But there was something different buzzing under her skin today too.

Something sharper.

Something she couldn’t name.

And she knew exactly where it was coming from.

Across the court, Azzi was stretching her arms over her head, the hem of her tank top riding up to flash a sliver of stomach.

Paige’s mouth went dry.

She jerked her gaze away, bouncing the ball hard against the floor like she could dribble the distraction out of herself.

Focus, Bueckers. Come on.

But it was impossible not to notice her.

Every time Azzi moved, it was like Paige’s body knew before her brain did — turning slightly toward her, tracking her without meaning to.

It was like some invisible string tied them together across the gym, pulling tighter every second.

“Teams!” the assistant coach barked.

“Paige, Azzi, you’re on the same side.”

Paige’s heart did something stupid in her chest — a little leap she tried to hide by adjusting her headband.

Azzi caught her eye from across the court.

Just a glance.

But it felt heavier than it should have.

Paige nodded once — too casual, too cool — and jogged toward her.

As they lined up to start, their shoulders brushed.

That tiny contact sent a crackle down Paige’s spine.

She risked a side glance at Azzi, who was tightening her ponytail, calm and focused.

If she felt it too, she didn’t show it.

The scrimmage started fast.

The ball was a blur — passes snapping through the air, sneakers cutting and sliding, bodies colliding in controlled chaos.

Paige slipped into game mode automatically — her instincts taking over, her vision widening until she could see the whole floor like it was laid out in her mind.

She didn’t even think about it.

She just played.

But no matter where she moved — no matter where the ball went —

Azzi was there.

Moving in sync with her.

Cutting when she cut.

Fading when she faded.

Popping out to the wing exactly when Paige needed an outlet.

It was like they were speaking a language no one else knew.

A glance. A tilt of the head. A twitch of fingers.

That was all it took.

Paige would thread a pass between two defenders without even looking — and Azzi would already be there, catching it smooth and pure and letting it fly.

Nothing but net.

It happened again.

And again.

And again.

At some point, the other players started groaning.

“Get a room!” someone muttered as Azzi nailed another three off a perfect dish from Paige.

Paige flushed hot, but she kept her head down, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

Azzi jogged back on defense, bumping Paige’s shoulder lightly with hers in passing.

“Nice look,” she murmured.

Paige didn’t trust herself to answer.

Not when her heart was hammering so loud she could barely hear anything else.

By the middle of the second quarter, it wasn’t just good basketball anymore.

It was magic.

Every time Paige touched the ball, she knew where Azzi was — could feel her, even without seeing.

And Azzi—Azzi moved like she trusted Paige with her whole body.

Like she didn’t need to second-guess anything.

It was intoxicating.

Paige had never had this with anyone.

Not like this.

She was addicted to it already, and it scared the hell out of her.

Timeout.

Coach blew the whistle, and they trotted to the sidelines, gulping water, wiping sweat from their faces.

Paige sat on the bench, elbows resting on her knees, breathing hard.

Azzi dropped down next to her, close enough that their legs brushed.

Neither of them moved away.

Paige stared at the floor between her sneakers, trying to slow the wild beating of her heart.

“You’re…” Azzi said quietly, like she wasn’t sure if she should say it.

“You’re easy to play with.”

Paige turned her head slowly, meeting her eyes.

For once, Azzi didn’t look away.

Something passed between them —

something hot and terrifying and thrilling all at once.

Paige opened her mouth to say something — anything — but Coach barked at them to get back out there.

Azzi stood first, offering a hand without thinking.

Paige took it.

Their palms met, slick with sweat, fingers sliding against each other.

Neither of them let go right away.

Just a second too long.

Paige felt it everywhere — in her chest, her throat, the tips of her fingers.

Azzi’s hand was strong and warm.

Reluctantly, Paige pulled away and followed her back onto the court.

But the imprint of Azzi’s hand stayed burned into her skin, even after the game resumed.

And when the final whistle blew, when they were all high-fiving and laughing and collapsing onto the benches, Paige didn’t even care about the score.

She only cared about the way Azzi smiled at her across the gym — tired, happy, radiant.

Like maybe —

just maybe —

She felt it too.

It was past midnight when Paige finally collapsed onto her bed.

The whole dorm was quiet, except for the faint hum of someone’s music two floors down and the occasional soft whir of the hallway fan.

Practice had drained her.

Her legs ached.

Her shoulders were sore.

She still had the taste of sweat and Gatorade lingering in her mouth.

But even exhausted, even half-dead, Paige couldn’t shut her brain off.

She rolled onto her back, staring up at the dark ceiling.

All she could think about was the scrimmage.

The way it had felt — too easy, too perfect — like she and Azzi were orbiting the same sun and didn’t even realize it.

The way Azzi had looked at her when they sat on the bench, their knees brushing.

The way Azzi’s hand had felt in hers.

Paige bit her lip, hard enough to sting.

She should sleep.

She needed to sleep.

But her phone was burning a hole in the blanket next to her, demanding her attention.

She gave in.

Without even thinking, her thumb hovered over Azzi’s name in her contacts — a new addition, added only two days ago, but already feeling like it had been there forever.

For a second, she hesitated.

Was it stupid to text her?

It was late.

Azzi was probably asleep.

Or — worse — Azzi would think she was weird for texting.

Paige squeezed her eyes shut, breathing out slowly.

Then she opened them and typed:

Paige: You up?

Immediately, her stomach twisted into knots.

God, she was pathetic.

She flung her arm over her face, half-hiding from the screen.

Three minutes passed.

Then four.

She was about to give up when her phone vibrated softly against her stomach.

Azzi: Yeah

Azzi: can’t sleep

Paige exhaled, a laugh catching in her throat.

She propped herself up on one elbow, thumbs moving almost before she could think.

Paige: Me either

Paige: too wired from practice

There was a pause — maybe thirty seconds — but it felt longer.

Then:

Azzi: You carried us today

Azzi: not gonna lie

Paige grinned into the darkness.

Her fingers hovered for a second, considering.

Tease her? Joke back?

Or say what she really wanted to say?

For once, she chose honesty.

Paige: nah

Paige: We were just in sync

The little “typing” dots appeared immediately.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Paige watched them, heart thudding.

Finally:

Azzi: it felt different

Azzi: with you

Paige’s breath caught.

She sat all the way up in bed now, blankets pooling around her waist, staring at the glowing screen like it might catch fire.

Slowly, carefully, she typed:

Paige: Differentt good?

Azzi’s reply came fast, almost like she hadn’t even had to think:

Azzi: best i’ve felt playing in a long time

Azzi: with anyone

Paige pressed a hand to her chest like she could physically calm the pounding inside it.

She didn’t know what to say.

Her fingers itched to type something huge, something reckless — me too, iI can’tstop thinking about you, I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want it to stop.

But she couldn’t.

Not yet.

Instead, she sent:

Paige: same

Simple.

Safe.

But she hoped Azzi could read the weight behind it.

The conversation drifted after that.

They talked about dumb stuff — the worst cafeteria meals, the weird kid in their English class who always wore flip-flops even when it rained.

Azzi’s texts were short but funny—sharp little comments that made Paige snort out loud into the darkness.

Paige’s replies were longer, rambly, full of bad jokes, and dramatic exaggerations.

She wanted to make Azzi laugh.

She wanted to keep her talking.

She wanted to keep the thread between them alive, glowing in the dark.

Every time her phone buzzed, it felt like a secret —

Something just for them, separate from the rest of the world.

At one point, Azzi sent:

Azzi: You’re easy to talk to

It wasn’t a huge thing.

It was just a sentence.

But it stopped Paige cold.

Because it wasn’t just about basketball anymore.

It wasn’t about passing or shooting or syncing up on the court.

It was this.

It was how, somehow, in a place full of strangers and pressure and noise, Paige felt more like herself around Azzi than she had in months.

Maybe longer.

Paige stared at the words for a long time before answering.

Finally, she sent:

Paige: You are too

Paige: feels like I’ve known you longer than a week

There was a longer pause this time.

Almost a minute.

Paige’s throat went tight.

Had she gone too far?

But then her phone vibrated again.

Azzi: Yeah

Azzi: Me too

Paige set her phone down on the blanket next to her, breathing out a shaky laugh.

She didn’t know what this was yet.

She didn’t know where it was going.

But lying there in the dark, heart full and buzzing, she knew one thing for sure:

She wanted more.

The hallway was still half-asleep when Paige cracked open her door the next morning.

Muted gray light filtered in through the narrow dorm windows, pooling across the scuffed tile floors.

Someone’s alarm was buzzing faintly from three rooms down, and the air smelled faintly of burnt toast from the communal kitchen.

Paige rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, yawning as she stepped into the hall in her baggy hoodie, shorts, and worn-out slides.

She hadn’t meant to get up this early.

She hadn’t even set an alarm.

But sleep had been impossible after the way her phone had buzzed all night, after the way Azzi’s words had wrapped around her like a second skin she couldn’t shake off.

It was dangerous; she knew that.

Letting herself feel this much already.

But it was like trying to fight gravity.

Useless.

Her brain said Slow down.

Her heart said, Go.

Paige shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket and wandered toward the kitchen, determined to find the worst coffee possible and maybe salvage her brain before morning lift.

She turned the corner —

And almost crashed straight into her.

Azzi.

Barefoot, hair still damp from a quick shower, wearing nothing but an oversized UConn sweatshirt that hit mid-thigh.

For a second, they just stared at each other.

Paige’s brain blanked out like a dead TV screen.

Azzi’s lips parted slightly, as if she might say something, but no words came out.

The silence between them pulsed.

Thick.

Heavy.

Crackling.

Paige felt heat crawl up the back of her neck.

God, she was staring.

Hard.

But how could she not?

Azzi looked unfairly good.

Like she’d rolled out of bed and accidentally invented a new kind of breathtaking.

Paige opened her mouth, ready to throw out some dumb joke — save herself, kill the tension — but nothing came out.

Azzi beat her to it, voice soft and rough with sleep:

“Hey.”

Paige’s heart punched the inside of her ribs.

“Hey,” she croaked back.

Real smooth, Bueckers.

Real cool.

They stood there awkwardly for another beat, neither making a move.

Paige was acutely aware of every single detail:

The faint steam rising from Azzi’s cup of tea,

the way her bare legs shifted slightly on the cold tile,

The sleepy squint of her eyes, like she was still half in some dream, Paige desperately wanted to know.

Finally, Azzi stepped sideways, letting Paige pass.

Their shoulders brushed.

Bare skin on bare skin.

The touch was barely there — a whisper.

But Paige felt it like a brand.

The whole side of her body lit up, heat rushing under her skin, nerves sparking awake.

She stumbled slightly, catching herself with a hand against the wall.

Azzi turned, a tiny smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“You okay?” she teased, voice still soft.

Paige nodded too fast.

“Yeah. Totally. Good. Solid.”

Azzi’s smile widened just a fraction, but she said nothing, cradling her tea between both hands like she could pretend she hadn’t noticed Paige nearly face-planting over nothing.

Paige darted into the kitchen like a coward, heart hammering.

She busied herself banging cabinets, pretending to look for a clean mug, trying not to think about how her whole body was still buzzing from that half-second touch.

Behind her, she heard Azzi’s soft steps retreating back down the hall.

Paige dared a glance over her shoulder.

Azzi looked back once — just once — before disappearing around the corner.

A glance that lingered.

Longer than necessary.

Long enough to make Paige’s stomach flip.

When she was gone, Paige let herself sag against the counter, gripping the edge until her knuckles turned white.

This is bad, she thought wildly.

This is so bad.

But even as she thought it, a grin tugged at her mouth.

A grin she couldn’t— and didn’t want to — fight off.

Because somewhere deep in her chest, deeper than fear or panic or logic, something was unfurling.

Something warm.

Something terrifying.

Something right.

[glowettee]

the secret to taking notes that make you want to study ✧˖°

hey lovelies! mindy heree <3

for this post i'm superrr excited to share a guide on taking notes that make you want to study ✧˖° trust me, i know how overwhelming it can get when it feels like you're stuck in the middle of endless textbooks and dry lecture slides (honestly, we all have those days). so, let's transform your note taking into something delightful, empowering, and totally reflective of your unique self.

✧ finding your vibe first things first, bestie: the key here is to make your notes feel personal and inspiring. rather than sticking to a rigid system, i suggest mixing a little structure with a whole lot of creativity. here are some steps to help you set up your perfect note taking vibe:

choose your medium: even if it’s a cute pastel notebook, sticky notes, or a digital app with fun themes, pick something that sparks joy and invites you to open it up. i personally love notion + remnote + coda

establish sections: break your notes into clear sections. introduction, main points, and summary. this not only boosts organization but also gives you a gratifying sense of progress every time you finish a page.

add your signature touch: doodles, small illustrations, or even a decorative border can make a note feel less like a chore and more like a mini art project. i love using aesthetic symbols for my digital notes <3

✧ creating a study ritual i believe that great notes come from a relaxed and focused mind. try integrating these rituals into your study sessions to set a positive tone, this is really important if you want to make note-taking fun:

begin with a short breathing exercise or a moment of gratitude (think of it as your pre-study pep talk).

play some light instrumental music or your favorite lo-fi beats, or playlist. something to keep your mind in a creative zone without distractions. (i have a great playlist i made that i use for tackling assignments here: 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀, 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀! <3)

grab your favorite beverage (i’m a fan of herbal tea or a cute iced coffee) and make sure you're comfortable. a little self-care goes a long way!

✧ structuring your notes for clarity a well-organized layout makes reviewing notes less daunting and more interactive. and obviously so much more fun, consider using this format for a balanced + demureee approach:

start with a title and date: it grounds your notes and gives you a quick reference.

write a brief summary of the topic: in your own words, capture the essence of what you’re about to learn. just summarize it as best as possible

list key points: use bullet points, numbered lists, or even headers for different subtopics. tip: use cute symbols for bullet points

highlight examples: it can be a quote, a definition, or an application concept, mark these with a star or a cute icon.

close with a reflection: jot down any questions, what you found most interesting, or even a mini action item related to the topic. this is your space for self-talk and reflection.

✧ turning notes into interactive canvases (cause we need it) notes aren’t meant to be static pages floating in an endless binder. make them interactive to truly boost your study sessions:

include thought-provoking questions: ask yourself things like “what would elle woods do?” (lol, we love her <3) or “how does this connect with real life?” to spark critical thinking.

add mini quizzes: at the end of each section, write one or two questions that challenge you to recall key points.

leave room for updates: as you learn more, come back and add extra notes, doodles, or even inspirational stickers (yes, just like in a scrapbook!).

✧ personal tips from mindy because i want you to shine in every note you take, here are my totally secret, fun tips to elevate your note routine:

secret tip #1: color with purpose choose a color palette that not only looks cute but also maps out different themes in your subject. use one color for definitions, another for examples, and maybe a sparkly tone for key takeaways. over time, these colors will trigger your memory (i promise, it really works!).

secret tip #2: integrate affirmations studying can be stressful sometimes, so why not lace your notes with a few tender affirmations? write a quick pep talk (like “i got this, bestie” or “every detail counts”) in a corner. it might seem small, but these little lines can boost your confidence when you need it most. and it's just so freaking cute <3 affirmations from you to you, is like a love letter to yourself, so just try it

secret tip #3: try mind mapping if you’re more of a visual learner, create mind maps instead of linear notes. start with the main topic in the center and branch out with related ideas and details. this not only makes your notes dynamic but also helps you see connections between concepts (ever notice how some subjects just click with a visual flow?).

secret tip #4: use digital tools creatively if you’re leaning towards digital note taking, like me, experiment with apps that support drawing, voice notes, and even embedded links. add images that resonate with the topic or short videos for a quick concept refresher. making your digital notebook interactive can really keep boredom at bay.

secret tip #5: schedule weekly note reviews set aside a bit of time every week to revisit your notes. treat it as a mini self-study session where you update, add reflections, or even reorganize sections for clarity. this habit not only reinforces your learning but also lets you see your own progress over time, like looking back on how far you’ve come.

✧ action items for the week (it's homework timeee) to wrap things up, here are a few steps to try:

pick one class or topic this week and redo your notes using one or two of these tips (maybe add a mind map or a quick quiz).

experiment with color coding: choose colors that resonate with you and assign them to key points or sections.

schedule a 10-minute review session at the end of the week to refresh and reflect on your notes.

share your progress with a friend or even a study group to celebrate little victories. accountability can boost your motivation!

note: note taking is a creative process that should feel as refreshing and inspiring as a new day. keep experimenting until you find what truly works for you. i hope these tips help you get excited about every page you write on.

xoxo, mindy

I made this amazzinggg playlist (as mentioned earlier in the post) and its specifically made to help you complete homework + assignments. i curated it to make sure its soft music to help you focus <3 love from mindyyy 🩷

don't forget, if you need personal advice, submit it here and i'll answer it as a detailed tumblr blog post <3: https://bit.ly/glowetteehotline

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

Can't Sleep (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Smut)

Short Summary: Ellie has been struggling to fall asleep due to her past trauma. But you might have just found something that could work! Without even being contious.

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut that includes somnophilia. Also includes a small mention of past trauma/ptsd

Words: 1379

(Credit to however the pictures belongs to, they’re not mine! I just found them on Pinterest like everyone on this fucking app does)

Ellie sighed as she looked up at the ceiling. Another night ruined. She truly didn’t understand why she kept trying when 99,9% of the nights would end up with her waking up at around 3 am and not be able to go back to sleep. Being used to this she would usually look around the dark room for about 15 minutes before getting up and spend the rest of the night watching some useless tv show while scolding herself for not being able to sleep this night either. Either you would wake up, glancing to your side and notice the bed being empty and thereafter walk down the squeaky stairs to see your girlfriend hunched down on the sofa. Or sometimes you didn’t even notice until your alarm went off, signaling you to wake up and get ready for work. Yeah, those days definitely left you feeling guilty……. You really felt bad for her, you do! If you could somehow give her your sleepiness, if just for a day every once in a while, you would 100% do it. Without a doubt! But unfortunately you can’t, which leaves you with only one option, supporting her as best as you can. You’ve went to the doctor, therapist, anyone who could potentially help her with her trauma, but to no use. The sleeping pills she got prescribed only left her feeling more sleepy, yet her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. At least not for more than an hour or so.

Ellie sifted her glance from the wooden ceiling to the sleeping figure beside her. You were currently facing her, allowing her to take in your beauty. Fuck, she had no idea how she got so lucky. If you asked Ellie she would DEFINITELY say you’re out of her league, but you assure her she’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of (and more). Her eyes trace over your peaceful face, your eyebrows slightly frowning, most likely due to a dream, your lashes lightly touching your under eyes, and your cute lips slightly pouting. Holy fuck she wanted to kiss you so badly. Her eyes continued down your neck, onto your décolletage that’s being highlighted by the moonlight before they stop at your…..chest. Being the summer time you always wore a spaghetti strapped crop top to bed, along with whatever underwear you used the day before. But the nights sure could be a little chilly.

One of your straps had fallen off your shoulder, allowing more of your boob to show then intentionally. Ellie tried not to look, but failed miserably. Knowing just how soft they feel in her hands she had to physically restrain herself from reaching out and touch them. Ellie continued to eye your exposed breast while letting her imagination wander free, not being aware of just how excited it got her until she, by reflex, pressed her thighs together and notice a wet patch. “Fuck” Ellie mumbled as the embarrassment came over her. She can’t get this fucking wet just from staring at your clothed boob! That’s the keyword “clothed”. Ellie bit her lip as she hesitated on “helping” the fallen strap to “accidentally” fall even lower down. Resulting in your boob hanging out free. Ellie let out a shaky breath when your harden nipple was bare for her eyes to see. Yep, definitely chilly.....

Even though this was far from the first time she's seen your naked breasts (living together for over four years leads to a lot of topless moments, sexual or not) she couldn't help but feel giggly like a school boy when she did. Her eyes took a quick glance at your face to make sure if she disturbed your sleep by her "action". But you continued to let out the peaceful breath that sometimes helped her succeed in falling asleep (if only for an hour). Taking in your unbothered expression Ellie got the courage to make her next move. She reached out her tatted arm and carefully placed her veiny hand on your exposed breast. She had to bite her lip to not moan at the contact with your smooth skin. But she soon drew it back, quickly, when you started to move. Her cold fingers had shocked you, and even though you're still in sleep, you let out a groan and rolled onto your back. But in your change of position your top had slid down even lower, resulting in both your boobs being free from the fabric.

Ellie´s eyes widened as she eyed not one, but both of your tits. She couldn't help herself. Shortly after she lowered herself and gave your right nipple a feather-light kiss. She groaned before going in harder. Her mind wouldn't let her think straight, too high on the taste of your skin. She continued to suck on your right nippled as she fundled with the other. The feeling was unreal. Without noticing it Ellie started to grind herself against your mattress, her body trying to find a way to release the pleasure she’s feeling. But it wouldn’t work. Ellie let out a frustrated whine at the lack of friction she got, nothing for her poor throbbing clit to attach to. She let go off your nipple, involuntarily, to solve her own “problem”. She lifted up your shared cover to see your bare legs. Ellie carefully lifted her own leg to strangled your nearest thigh. Just the pressure on her sensitive when she lowered herself onto you was enough to draw a moan. But she pulled her sleeping shorts to the side, exposing her wet pussy, before making sure to properly situate herself. Without losing a second she began to grind herself against your soft leg. The firmness she was looking for was found, and she had a hard time shutting up.

Even though she knew she couldn’t be so loud or she’ll wake you up her brain also didn’t want to focus on that. Just the pleasure. A few shaky breaths were leaking out as Ellie rested her head against your shoulder. Her juices soon covered more of your thigh than she thought. For a few seconds she felt embarrassed, paranoid you’d wake up to find her like this. Desperately humping your thigh like a dog. But that thought seem to have vanished from her head when she grabbed both your hips with her long slander fingers, holding on hard as she continued to grind her cunt hard and faster. “Fuuuuuck” Ellie pathetically whined “please, (y/n)………please fuck me”. Ellie grabbed one of your hands and brought it up to her mouth. She stuck out your index and middle finger before putting them in her mouth. Sucking and licking them like her life depended on it.

At one point Ellie couldn’t care enough to even try and keep quiet. She didn’t care if you woke up. In fact, she wanted you to wake up. Cause if you did maybe you’d help her. Letting out a deep groan your fingers fell out of her mouth, covered by her saliva. But Ellie quickly took a firm grip around said hand’s wrist and traced it down her body. When met with the hem of her long sleeved sleeping shirt she made sure to lead your hand underneath it and continued up until your fingertips are met with her hard nipple. Just the feeling of your skin on hers was incredible. Ellie let out another satisfied moan before she puts her hand on top of yours, helping you to palm her perky little tit beneath her shirt. Ellie buried her slightly sweaty forehead into the side of your neck. She tried to keep her eyes open, wanting to watch every single bounce your tits would do due to her intense pace, but the pleasure makes it hard not to let her eyelids drop completely.

Ellie’s eyes soon filled up with tears at the delicious feeling, but also the frustration of not getting enough. You knew her like the back of your hand. Every weakness, everything she liked and didn’t like, you knew it. She needs to wake you up. Ellie made sure to swallow all the spit that was threatening to spill out onto your neck before whining into your ear

“Please help me, baby? I can’t sleep”.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: I thought this would be A LOT shorter when I started to write it. I do really like making more blur-ish stories, but I clearly can’t do them. Cause I start off writing just the main act, but then I’m like “but wouldn’t it be cool if I added what the reader’s grandmother was like? And what her favorite subject in school was!😃😃”. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this anyways. Even though it’s longer than anticipated (that’s what she said).

[felassan]

Some things in BioWare's transcript of the August 30th dev Discord Q&A are a lil different to what was actually said in the Q&A. not only editing to tidy up and be concise etc; some of it seems to actually be new/additional (or updated?) information. this post is just a quick summary of the new or different things I noticed when comparing the BioWare transcript to a word-for-word transcript (or at least the ones that stood out to me anyways). DA:TV spoilers under cut.

This post is a mix of new snippets and rephrased answers to things that were rephrased in a way that stuck out to me or interested me. nb, it doesn't highlight changes if the change was something not being included in the BioWare transcript (there was some of that too).

John Epler: "I don't know if any of [the Evanuris] consider [tea] a favorite beverage"

[re: hugging Assan] Assan "always appreciates the attention. He's got a sharp beak and he'd let you know if he didn't."

Variation of the WEWH question answer:

"There's always going to be politics to some degree - there are a number of different groups with different priorities, and not all of them are going to be immediately disposed towards trusting you. But while the Inquisitor had an organization and an army (and even Hawke and the Hero of Ferelden spent more time moving in political circles), Rook's situation is a little more desperate and immediate. Their approach is therefore a little more direct, and so while they may occasionally find themselves in the political sphere, they're not trying to assemble an army or build consensus amongst nation states."

[on companions' ages] The part of this where they described the companions' age range has been changed from where it said "early-mid twenties" to just say "mid twenties". Also, Taash was said to be "early twenties"; she is now simply "the youngest".

New sentence on the ages: "We don't usually nail down a specific age, unless it's something that comes up in their content, but we want to have an idea as to their general age range as we're writing them."

If no side characters stand out as a good candidate for a 'light' romance, this is never something they want to force

Griffons as half-bird half-lion - it now reads half-eagle half-lion

"Thedas has always been filled with extraordinary people, and in DATV you're trying to save the world. It stands to reason that the people you're bringing on board are going to be people with extraordinary circumstances of their own."

On the Veil not being in great shape and having been deteriorating in recent times/the intervening period between games, a more specific figure is given: "things in general have been slowly getting worse over the past decade and a half"

Lucanis and Bellara find out they have a lot in common and develop a "really fun" friendship, even though "it's hard to think of two companions who feel more different on the surface"

Neve and Bellara's friendship "kind of evolved organically as we were writing them, and finding out all the opportunities we could to throw little tastes of it into dialogue was a blast"

when enemies are slowed due to Slow Time, Rook stays moving at full speed

Rook's weapons and companions' gear can also be transmogged in addition to Rook's armor gear and casualwear

New sentence: "I've built Harding as a Support Character one run, and a DPS the next run. If you want to use Davrin as a DPS, you can do that."

"But each Companion has a gift that you can purchase from vendors in the world, and then give it to them." - it sounds like there is only one unique gift that you can give to the companions each?

"In general, something like a short story anthology is a volunteer thing - we ask people what they want to write and, generally, people tend to gravitate towards character ideas and concepts they already had in mind for a companion."

"So it's rare that we write a character that isn't intended to be a companion and then think 'oh wow this character would be a great fit', but it's not unheard of either."

"Ultimately we wanted to be sure that The Veilguard could be a good entry point to Dragon Age for new players and people who know almost nothing about the universe. But if you're the kind of player who wants to catch the most references, I'd suggest reading The Missing (most recent comic series) and Tevinter Nights. The former is a direct narrative setup for the beginning of the game" while Tevinter Nights is "less of a direct narrative tie", though it introduces "characters, concepts and story elements" that show up in the game

New sentence and info: [John Epler] "The Archon's Palace floating was something we came up with midway through writing Tevinter Nights and I had to furiously rewrite a few things." - the Floating Building is the Archon's Palace?

"Mae is a character that means a lot to so many DA fans" (<3)

Crow politics are now described as "complex" as well as deadly

"Some romances allow you to express interest without 'committing'" - so it sounds like not all of them allow this? - "but all romances eventually end up being exclusive"

"With each specialization we wanted to explore, both visually and through gameplay, what a specific class member of that faction might look like. Spellblade, for example, is our answer to the question 'what does a mage assassin look like'."

Our ability to save PCs so we don't have to start from scratch in CC each time was very important to the devs

"the feeling we want to evoke over the course of the game is one of growth, both in yourself as Rook and in your companions as they overcome their own problems with your help. These problems are often external in nature, but they are always tied, at their core, to the conflict that the character carries within them. And they are, also, always uniquely Dragon Age problems on the surface, but still relatable."

The difference in the answer to the is Lucanis possessed question interested me.

Original for the sake of comparison:

"So, again, spoilers, everyone has been warned, fairly warned. So Lucanis Dellamorte is also known as The Demon of Vyrantium. And, he has spent a lot of time killing Venatori, who are mages, and who do know a lot about demons, so. Yeah, somebody decided that it might be a good idea to make that nickname stick."

New:

"There's definitely something going on with Lucanis - and before you hired him, he was known as the Demon of Vyrantium. Might be that someone took offense to that nickname, especially since he earned it by killing Venatori."

New sentence in the answer to the is Thedas a southern continent question:

"Of course, nothing says that distance to the sun is the only factor impacting weather."

.. [probably reading too much into this don't look at me ik many factors influence weather irl hhh] magic? the Veil? the deteriorating Veil? the risen Gods? the Blight? Thedas is experiencing global warming? :D

"As part of our attempt to make the companions feel like they have their own lives outside of just Rook, we asked ourselves what pairings made the most narrative sense and then talked about how they might actually unfold in the game. And even before companions get together, you can see that interest starts to develop. Which is, I think, one of my favorite things about the companions. They don't just fall in love with each other, they become friends, confidents, and even rivals at times"

It takes Davrin a while to trust others. He can be a little standoffish, but eventually he warms up to anyone who shows that they have his back

As a monster hunter a lot of Davrin's hobbies revolve around that

"a lot of elves go around shoeless, and that's in part because they believe it brings them closer to nature. What better way to understand what the world and ground are saying than to walk directly on it? but not every Dalish follows this custom" [...] "The Veil Jumpers, in general, are a little more likely to wear boots and shoes, as they're far more likely to end up in dangerous places and fighting unsettling creatures than the average Dalish"

On Bellara's boots: "you never know when you're going to find a broken artifact with a lot of sharp edges."

Bellara is a big fan of pan-frying anything she can (re: food)

Lucanis has the refined palate of an Antivan Crow

Getting the beards to work with all the armor variations that they have was especially challenging with dwarves because they "tend to be" shorter

Those beards that were designed with dwarves in mind can alsobe used for humans and qunari (I wonder then if elves cannot have beards in CC? Like I know they usually don't have them or have it in CC and that lore says they don't but there are a also a few lorebreaking instances of it and I wasn't sure which way this one would go given how 'free choice/options for all' the CC in this game has sounded like it has been designed to be)

"You'll see more on this as we showcase character creator in our runup to launch"

For this question "Since you can choose to be a part of the same faction for most of the companions, will that give you an advantage when trying to befriend them?", the answer now reads that in addition to the unique dialogue same-background Rooks have with the companion of that background, it can also "change the timbre of your relationship a little bit"

John Epler: "one of my favorite things about this group of companions is how much time they spend with each other"

[on the companions] "They're a family, and like a family, they don't always get along"

"A lot of Solas' relationship with the player is personal. He sees a lot of himself in Rook - both the good and the bad - and largely talks only to you, as you're the one he has a connection with."

"Not to mention at least a couple of followers who would likely love to ask an ancient Elven god some questions."

"a common complaint we've heard in past games is that many players disliked always feeling like they needed a Rogue to be able to lockpick, so fortunately Rook finds a method to use these exploration abilities even when the associated Companion is not in your party"

An example of a companion's unique exploration ability is that Emmrich has an ability to briefly reanimate skeletons to open gates

Qunari not wearing helmets and only vitaar allows more flexibility when it comes to horns customization in CC

"yes - there will be some pretty obvious Act breaks. Not all content fits neatly into these buckets, as it's more a way of breaking up the critical path (companion and other side content follows a different cadence), but there are some pretty obvious Acts built into our game. A lot of the missions, though, we want to make sure players have the freedom to decide what they do and when they do it, so while they may have internal acts (follower missions form their own arcs), they don't conform to the overall main quest arcs"

The difference in the answer to the is Assan the only griffon question confirms that Assan was specifically one of the baby griffons that hatched at the end of Last Flight. (as opposed to another clutch that was laid in the last decade)

Old:

"So, again, just to be clear, spoilers, but yeah, Assan has brothers and sisters, so Assan is not the only griffon that shows up in Dragon Age The Veilguard."

New:

"If you read Last Flight, you'll know that Assan isn't the only griffon from that clutch of eggs, so he's got brothers and sisters. And if one griffon is good, a whole family of them is better, right?"

"We briefly experimented with other options for last names but it became unwieldy as we do refer to your Rook by their last name on several occasions, and accounting for 6 potential last names is already a lot of complexity."

Variation of the 'what goes into bringing back old characters' question answer:

"We always - both for Morrigan and any other characters we bring back - think about what they would've been up to since the last time anyone saw them. These characters should feel like real people, and the last thing we want to imply is that their stories stalled out while they weren't directly in the player's adventuring party. So we look at their arc before the time skip, and then think about where that arc would've taken them. In the case of Morrigan, she's coming to terms with a lot of truths about herself and about her mother. There are elements of her past that she's come to terms with, which is why she wears a version of Flemeth's crown. Ultimately you want the world to feel like it's real. And no one's the same person today that they were 10 years ago. That's stagnation, and it's bad in fictional characters as it is in real people."

The orb part of orb and dagger is called an Elemental Orb

Variation on the Dalish Elf vs City Elf question answer:

"While I think 'city elf' vs 'Dalish elf' is a useful distinction in the South, there's a lot more nuance in the North. Rivain, for example, has Dalish settlements intertwined with other cities. There's just not the same separation, so each of the factions has a unique approach to your lineage. You can define some of that further with choices you make in conversations - we really wanted to leave a lot of that open to players to RP."

[localization question answer variation] "Games are so complex and have so many moving pieces that you need to be in regular communication or things get missed. And a lot of that is because ultimately localization is more than just a straightforward translation. Jokes, metaphors, sayings - even specific lore terms - aren't just a matter of finding the equivalent word in another language. Every writer has a story about a time they had to explain the specifics of an off-color joke they wrote so that localization could properly capture the intent."

So mostly variations (as in rephrasing) and things, but some of the new info that particularly stood out to me was things like the description of Emmrich's exploration ability, the mention that the Floating Building is the Archon's Palace (iirc this was speculated before but not confirmed?), the new lil details or insights on Assan and Davrin, the bit about Assan being from the Last Flight eggs, etc.

[originalartblog]

"Nawy what do you MEAN quick-ish 3D render it's got scratches and everything and I thought this was real for a minute!!"

Well, first, thank you very much that was the intention ❤, and second, you see, all speed is relative, and between finding my references, modeling, texturing and lighting, on top of having to learn how to make convincing gems, it still took me quite a few hours. I, however, cut corners everywhere for speed, and I wouldn't put this piece in a portfolio in its current state.

But! for the curious, I thought I could do a simple breakdown of how the witchcraft happens, without using too much specialized language to make it more accessible. In short,

In this case, I’m talking about a 3D model that was textured (colours and stuff) and then lit (lights on!) to make a pretty final picture. The objective is not to make a tutorial, but to put in simple terms what a 3D artist does to make something go from this, to that:

(people curious and/or trying to see if this interests them welcome)

I'm skipping the 3D modeling part altogether, since it isn't where most of the magic happens here. Just know that to be able to add colour and stuff on a 3D object, you have to go through the process or "unwrapping" it, which is like doing those foldable cubes in reverse

and then we can draw on it!!

Now, the good stuff:

Surfaces (metal, plastic, fabric, wood, skin, etc.) have different looks that make you able to differentiate them on sight. To make something look realistic, you have to try to replicate real life into the 3D world (duh.)

The software developers took care of the hard part (math and coding), so as artists we can play with the parameters available to make something pretty. What those parameters are depend on which "recipe" we're using. One of the most common "recipes" for realistic results is called PBR: Physically Based Rendering, named that way because it's trying to replicate real-life light physics. In this case, the 4 basic parameters are called albedo, roughness, metalness, and normal.

Albedo is the base colour of the surface (easy stuff). Roughness is to determine if a surface is rough or shiny. Metalness is to say if something is made out of metal or not. The normal is there to add all those tiny details you don't want to or can't sculpt on your 3D model (engravings, fabric bumps, etc.)

The roughness and metalness are black and white images because the information you're giving to the software is black = no and white = yes. It's easier to understand in the metalness image, where everything that is NOT a metal is black, and everything that IS a metal is white.

The normal is a bit more complex, but in short, it uses the colours green and red to know what is up/down or left/right, and will help the software fake relief on top of the model. You don't make it by hand; it's computer-generated from other stuff I'm not getting into.

With the technical stuff out of the way, we can actually use these. There are specialized softwares that will let you preview the results of each parameter in real time, so you can see what you're doing easily. This is what I have.

That software comes with some types of surfaces that are already set up, like the fabric in my piece, which was already 85% good for me straight out of the box. Then, it's up to me to use the tools available to decide how shiny a surface is, if there's dust or scratches and where, what colours things are, if there's metal parts, etc. That's where you can see a 3D artist's skills.

And finally, you bring it all together into a specialized software that can render 3D stuff and use those images on the corresponsing parameters, and then light the scene.

Because it all comes down to this: the light! For something realistic, light is vital to get right. You can pour your heart and soul into those tiny scratches, but if you don't light the scene correctly, well...

So we carefully light the scene to get some nice highlights to make the textures look good and highlight our subject (it's basically a photography studio inside a computer)

And then we add some camera effects...

and voilà! pretty picture!!

... and if you somehow did notice something different with the bolo tie from my last post, I did find out while taking all these screenshots that I messed up my initial renders in a way that made everything darker than it was supposed to be and that's why my gold looked so muddy...

I hope this was interesting and that you learned a thing or two!

[alwritey-aphrodite]

file this under: things I did while trying not to throw up from stress (it’s completely unedited and not even vaguely proof read)

The one where Peter helps when you're stressed with schoolwork

Peter can see you slowly scrolling down the page on your laptop, eyes darting across each line as your finger hover over the keyboard. You scroll until you reach the end of the paper and then quickly jump back to the first page, starting the process all over again. He’s seen you do this four times in the last half hour, and that’s just when he started paying attention.

“Submit it,” he mumbles, highlighter twitching in his hand, his paper unmarked.

“Huh?” You ask, sparing him a quick glance before your attention returns to your computer screen.

“Submit your paper, you’ve read it like thirty times.”

“I’m proofreading,” is your response, self conscious at having been caught out. You’ve had the assignment for weeks now, and you started writing it the second you could, but something just feels off. Your sentences are short and halting, you’ve barely been able to formulate evidence, and your word count leaves something to be desired. It’s not an incredibly hard assignment, but it’s been slowly driving you crazy, and the closer the deadline gets, the worse your writing starts to look. 

“Do you want me to read it quick?” Peter asks, capping the highlighter he’d been holding, anxious to put off his own studying.

“No, it's fine,” you’re quick to reply, prematurely embarrassed at having Peter read your subpar work. You toggle between the rubric and your paper, mentally checking boxes as you go. It’s all there, technically, but something doesn’t feel right, beyond the low-simmering nausea that’s been settled in your belly for the last twenty-four hours. 

“Then please, turn it in.” Peter shifts in his seat to face you fully, desperate for your attention. Really, he’s just desperate for that damn paper to get less of it. “I’m sure you’re just being too hard on yourself.”

You sigh, and Peter is worried for a split second that he’s crossed the line, added more onto your already overflowing plate, but you’re just tired. You’re overworked and anxious, and your to-do list is entirely unhelpful in figuring out your next steps. You just need a break, but you don’t have the time, and it seems like as soon as you manage to submit one assignment, three more are there to take its place, like a hydra from hell.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, more to yourself than Peter, hands leaving your laptop to instead press onto the side of your head and smooth down your hair.

“It’s just a grade,” Peter changes tactics, trying his best to sound soothing, “and besides, I’m sure it’s great. You’ve been staring at it for so long it's bound to look shitty.”

“It looks like a baby wrote it,” you retort, angrily intending and backspacing, over and over again, completely unsure of what you can possibly do to fix it.

“A really talented baby, though, ‘cause babies can’t type.” His dumb joke gets a huff from you, the closest thing to a laugh he’s heard in hours, so he counts it as a win.

Silence settles over the two of you, without any noise from your fingers flying across the keyboard. You hesitate, feeling sick and close to tears and in desperate need of a nap and a shower and some food, but then you close your eyes, take a breath, and turn in the paper. You feel like all the fight has drained out of your body, not even a morsel of motivation left behind.

“All done?” Peter asks as you stare blankly at your screen and wonder if it's too late to unsubmit it and start over. Instead, you nod, and slowly close your laptop. “Good, now I’m gonna light your planner on fire so you can’t stress about anything else for the rest of the night.” That gets a smile out of you, one that’s tired but genuine and it makes his heart soar.

“I can’t decide if I want to eat or nap or shower or cry or just, like, stare blankly at the walls for a while,” you joke, relief starting to flood your system at having the weight of the essay lifted from your shoulders. It may not be your best work, or it may be totally fine, but it’s done and out of your control and it doesn’t make any sense to keep stressing about it.

“I vote not the last one,” Peter jokes back and earns another beautiful smile from you, “You shower and I can go out and order us some food? Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”

“Too many choices,” you reply as you attempt to roll some of the stiffness out of your neck, “my brain no longer works.”

“Understood,” he nods, thinking about the best way to make the rest of the night as relaxing as possible for you, “you just go shower and by the time you get out, I promise I’ll have dinner waiting for you.”

When you emerge from the shower, feeling significantly more human but also significantly more hungry now that your brain isn’t being fully dedicated to your paper and just keeping you alive, you’re greeted by roughly ten different takeout bags and a beaming Peter. You’re so amazed, so overwhelmed, you can’t do anything but laugh, and once your manage to regain your ability to breath properly, you spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch with Peter, eating all your favorite foods and watching your favorite movies, your essay and your grades the furthest thing from your mind for the first time in weeks. 

[sgiandubh]

Shippers lose all credibility every time they send messages to places like Deuxmoi, with claims like CB is hiding her rings and hasn’t been seen with her husband for months—like, implying her divorce is imminent. It’s so obvious! It’s been ages since your friend SHwifey blogger announced with such excitement the news about a supposed Decree Nisi and nothing happened yet?🤥 let’s be real T&C are here to stay and a divorce ain’t happening.

Come on, we're not stupid, next time shippers are sending such nonsense to blind items sites at least try to cover it up a bit! And then they say the antis are the desperate ones...

By the way, how’s everything in Puffiland?"

Dear Deux Moi Anon,

Not my circus, not my monkeys, darling, and you know it. I don't know, nor care about what exactly happened, who dunnit and why. It still doesn't change anything to the fact McGill has been MIA for months now, and that yes, the very fact that you rushed in here to screech tells me it bothers you greatly.

Short, but firm reminder I shall not speak for any other blogger than myself, nor take responsibility for any content other than what I sign, seal and deliver on this page. However, you might want to brush up your expertise in British family law and see what the difference is between a decree nisi and a decree absolute. Even if the law changed in the meanwhile (2020 and enforced in 2022), the procedure I am about to describe and comment has not, assuming it started as stated, in 2020. Sidenote: the 2022 law does not change much to its essence, either. It just simplifies the grounds for divorce and leaves some unwanted uncertainty on the ways financial separation is dealt with by the applicants (formerly called 'petitioners').

Here, pumpkin, educate yourself. By the way, you should stop imagining that the entire world has the same rules and regulations on things: divorce is something that is dealt with very differently in the US, as compared to the UK, for example. But anyways, this is the most comprehensive and clear explanation I could immediately find online and it should be enough for you. Also, dutifully highlighted, just to piss you off, darling:

[Source: https://www.aticuslaw.co.uk/what-is-the-difference-between-a-decree-nisi-and-decree-absolute/]

In British legal practice, there is, in reality, no time limit for the decree nisi to remain on the court file, simply because, as the paper above strives to explain, the legislator is fully aware of the fact that it is not always quick, nor easy to deal with the consequences of a separation, such as a change of personal status or financial situation. The 12-months term is, in effect, deemed reasonable to get all the practicalities sorted out. But people are strange, like that: some may just linger complacently in a limbo, some take their time to go their separate ways, others are held by external pressure vectors that are entirely independent of their own will (*coughs*). However, there is no reason to deny the belated petitioners the right for a decree absolute and all it takes is a written Letter to Court, explaining the reasons of the delay. You just need to pay a good specialized solicitor and there are even templates galore to download and fill in, on the Internet. An example:

[Source: https://www.lexisnexis.co.uk/legal/precedents/letter-to-court-applying-for-decree-absolute-more-than-12-months-after-decree-nisi - you can imagine I won't be arsed to pay for the sake of someone like you asking. But you can also imagine the above letter primarily deals with exposing/justifying the reasons for the delay and any new events that may or may not have complicated the issue at stake, such as the birth of a child. ]

I trust this is straightforward enough, or do you need me to draw it to you?

So, there goes your completely false allegation that divorce was automatically implied as 'imminent'. Chop chop, to the scrapheap, with all the rest of you. Not my problem either, that (as always) you have no idea of what you are talking about. See, I am just analyzing some useful legislation, here. I don't read tea leaves, I am definitely not into that Lady of the Rings kremlinology club and I very rarely speculate on social media drama-drama. These being exactly the reasons why you guys seem to hate me with a passion. I don't, darling: I pity and despise you, in equal measure.

As for the current situation in Puffland, you can fuck right off and ask that woman yourself. I don't think she likes me and I can't say many nice things about her, either.

But funny how I, along with a couple of other shippers, seem to live rent free in your empty brains. Given the mentioned company, I feel honored.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Scared Half to Death | Bucky Barnes x reader

Hi! I haven't posted a fic in forever. School has been a nightmare.

I literally wrote this in under an hour lol it's very short and not my best. But I just wanted to get something kinda Halloween-y out there in time to celebrate!

🎃👻🎃👻🎃Happy Halloween! 👻🎃👻🎃👻

Warnings: blood, Bucky's anxiety, injury

Bucky pulled his hand from the doorknob with a disgusted expression. A thick, sticky substance coated his palm and dotted his fingers. He rolled his eyes at whichever small child had covered his door handle in candy residue while he was gone. But just as he tried to wipe the syrupy remnants on his jeans, the color caught his eye. The flash of dark red sent shockwaves through his system. 

He’d stepped away from the apartment for just a few minutes, only long enough to replenish his candy supply for the next wave of trick-or-treaters. But in the short time that he was gone, something terrible- something violent- must’ve taken place. 

He dropped the candy to the floor and struggled to yank his keys from the lock, his hands shaking with anxiety. And when he finally burst through the door of the apartment he shared with you, he only found more carnage. 

Droplets of blood dotted the floor. They coagulated against the tile and wormed their way into the grout, staining it red. Bucky’s stomach turned. A leaden knot formed in his gut and weighed him down like an anchor. Where were you? Was this your blood? Were you hurt- were you dead?

He followed the gruesome path like a trail of breadcrumbs, fearing what he’d find at their end.  Only a few hours ago, everything was perfect. He’d sat with you as you got dressed for your best friend’s Halloween party. He rested on the bed you shared and delighted in watching you dance around the room as you did your make up and put on your costume. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” you asked as you shimmied into your costume.

“I’m sure, baby. It’s not really my thing,” he shrugged. “You know how I am with big crowds. Plus, Halloween is a little weird for me. People dress as my friends-” He swallowed hard, “People dress as a version of me that I try not to think about… it’s just not for me.”

“Yeah…” 

Silence filled the room. Guilt coursed through your body with each beat of your heart. Part of you itched to change out of your costume and forget the whole thing.

“You know, I don’t have to go-”

Bucky stood from the bed and made his way to your side, “Yes, you do.”

A stern expression crossed your face, “I really don’t. And I shouldn’t ditch you for a stupid party-” 

“You’re not ditching me,” he said. “You love this party! You look forward to Kelly’s-” he paused, struggling to remember the name of the shindig. “What does she call it again? Her Creep-Tastic?”

You laughed, “Spook-tacular!”

“Right!” Bucky rolled his eyes at his attempt. “You look forward to her Spook-Tacular every year! And I’m not gonna let you miss it just because I don’t wanna go.”

He took your face in his hands, careful not to mess up your make up. Never had anyone made him felt so loved, so cared for. You put him first at every turn, prioritizing his wellbeing and his mental health above all else. You sacrificed so much for him in the early stages of your relationship; the last thing he wanted was for you to miss out on the party you’d looked forward to for the last eleven months. 

“Seriously, doll, I’m gonna be fine. I’ll hand out candy to the kids and watch some tv,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

It wasn’t a trick or a test; Bucky didn’t secretly hope you’d choose him instead of the party. He only wanted you to be happy. And you knew he meant every word he said. 

“Okay. Then tell me…” you did a quick spin, “how do I look?”

Bucky eyed you up and down, drinking in the neon pink and highlighter yellow leotard. The electric yellow kneepads. The pink visor. The bright yellow high-top sneakers. 

“You look amazing, Barbie. You belong in the Dream House!”

Not soon after that, you left. He’d walked you to your Uber and made you promise to be safe. He’d told you that he loved you. And that was the last time he saw you.

Until now. 

The trail of blood ended with you. Bucky discovered you sprawled on your back on the living room rug, your body soaked with blood. Smears of red coated your neck and stained your arms. Your clothes were saturated with gore. This Barbie didn’t belong in the Dream House; she belonged in a nightmare. 

“Oh, god-” Bucky made his way to your side and sunk to his knees, breathless. “Baby, hey- can you hear me? Open your eyes, look at me.” His fingers traced your neck in search of a pulse, desperately scrounging for even a flutter of life. 

And there it was- your pulse. You were still alive; your heart still managed to beat despite the blood loss. 

But Bucky’s gratitude only lasted a moment. He still had to find your wound and stop the bleeding. He had to call 911. He had to keep your heart beating. 

His hands scrounged across your abdomen in search of a stab wound or evidence of a gunshot. But just as he reached for your side, you made a sound.

Did he heard that right? Did you… giggle?

“Whaaaaaaat’re you doin’, Barnes?” you laughed. “Don’t tickle meeeee!” 

Bucky’s gaze shot from your blood-soaked clothes to your face. “Baby?”

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Barbie!” you slurred, your face plastered with a smile. “Oh, nooooo- wait, you’re just Ken!” A fit of laughter exploded from your chest as you sang, “I’mmm juuuuust KEN! Anywhere elssssse, I’d beeee a TEN-” A sudden contemplative look banished your lighthearted spirit. “But you reeeeally are a ten, Buck… and I mean that.”

Bucky remained frozen. He was lost, confused. Were you woozy from blood loss? Or alcohol? Were you even hurt? Did you need an ambulance or a cold shower? 

“Baby, are you hurt? Are you okay?” He took your face in his hands, “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Because this Barbie hugged her friend!” 

A befuddled expression took over Bucky's face. "What?"

The room spun as you struggled to sit up. Bucky’s heart leapt into his throat; if you were hurt, you needed to lie down. You needed to stop moving and let him dress your wound. But you moved without wincing, without crying out in pain. Sure, you swayed from side to side just a little in your intoxicated state. But that was the worst of it. 

“I hugged Kelly! But Kelly was aaactually Carrie! Y’know, the girl covered in pig’s blood,” you laughed. “It kiiiinda ruined my costume a little. Buut, now I look like Scary Barbie! So s’okay.”

A deep sigh of relief filled Bucky’s lungs. He rocked back off of his knees and plopped down onto his butt. His bloody hands covered his face. “Then what are you doing on the floor, sweetheart?”

“Sometiiiiimes… sometimes ya just gotta lay on the floor. Y’know?” You shrugged, “And I didn’t wanna get allllll the blood on the couch.”

He nodded.

"I guess I fell asleep for a hot sec," you shrugged. "I was just waiting on ya to get home."

Bucky did his best to regulate his breathing, to calm the aggressive tsunami of anxiety that drowned his every cell. His entire world came crashing down the moment he found you on the floor, and now, he had to put it back together. 

“You okay, Buck? I came home early cause I missed yooou- I missed you sooooo much,” you placed a bloodied hand on his face. “But I didn’t mean to ruin your night to yourself. I’m sorry…”

“No, you didn’t ruin anything. It’s not that at all. It’s- baby, I thought…” he shook his head. His heart still pounded against his ribcage, and his breathing hadn't quite evened out. “I thought you were hurt. I thought you were…” He didn’t want to finish his sentence. 

“Ohhhhh, no, I’m fine! I’m okay! I’m drunk…” you laughed, “But I’m okay!”

Bucky pulled you close, grateful that the blood clinging to your skin came out of a bottle. "I know that now, I'm just..." he took a deep breath. "It's just gonna take a minute for my body to catch up with my brain."

His hand roamed up and down your spine. He needed to feel you breathe, to feel your voice vibrate against his palm. Seeing you like that- bloody and unresponsive- on the floor of the home you shared nearly scared him to death.

This wasn't the kind of Halloween scare that flooded his system with pins and needles and left him laughing. No, this stripped him of all breath, of all ability to think. It cut him to the bone.

He never wanted to imagine you getting hurt, getting killed. For him, losing you was a fate worse than death.

The two of you sat there together in the quiet calm as Bucky remembered how to breathe. He held onto you as tightly as he could without leaving bruises, and didn't care than you'd stained his white shirt with your gory mess.

“I’m glad you’re home, doll. And that you’re okay," he said after his heart returned to its normal pacing. "I just- I didn’t expect Bloody Barbie.”

You shrugged, “No one ever does.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh that echoed off the walls and made your heart flutter. “Alright, we need to clean you up and get you to bed, baby. I think we’ve both had enough Halloween shenanigans for the year.”

You allowed him to help you to your feet and guide you to the bathroom for a much needed shower. He was always there for you when you needed him, even without you asking. You knew he'd protect you, do anything for you- he'd even scrub fake blood from your nail beds.

"Buck?" you whispered as he helped you into bed.

"Yeah, baby?"

"You're soooo much better than Ken."

He knew it was a genuine, drunken compliment, but it nearly made him burst out laughing. "Thank you, doll. Yeah, I prefer Allan anyway."

"Saaaaaaame," you sighed, melting into your pillow.

Bucky tucked the covers around you and made sure your water was within reach. He placed a kiss to your forehead, once again thanking his lucky stars that you were home safe.

"Goodnight, Barbie."

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

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[ghostykapi]

Lunch

kim dahyun & fem!reader

:3 spice so kids scram

dahyun isn’t sure that this is a good idea

the cameras are rolling though, so the production staff thinks it is a good idea

twice has been booked and busy with schedules. any time to rest seems like just enough to have some sleep, so any free time for dahyun to properly spend with you is through mundane tasks and in between schedules

normally this wouldn’t be such a bad thing, but today is different.

yesterday morning she woke up to you rummaging through the drawers, only in a sports bra and shorts after a morning run. the problem of her neediness starting from there.

lunch at her favorite restaurant wasn’t any better, your y2k inspired outfit providing her eyes a feast. the fit crop top and the low rise jeans proved to be a dangerous combo. her hands wouldn’t leave your waist even during practice later that afternoon

the late dinner back at home made her frustration grew. your choice to wear only a oversized shirt making her fight the air. your innocent smile and your sleepy demeanor preventing her from pouncing on you at all

now she sits and looks at the mirror with a stoic face, trying to keep it together as her eyes wander to you. the sports bra and baggy sweat pants combo isn’t a wow eye popping combo to anyone, but when she sees the way it highlights your abs and arms and your oh so bitable neck she kinda loses it

she’s barely even listening, save for the important key phrases she heard from the choreographer, so much so that when a quick 15 minute break is in session, she’s still breathing deeply and staring at you, wondering if you’re thinking the things she wants to do to you

the cameras sitting inside of the room also like the view, with you always interacting with it, telling silly things to once that will only be heard once the comeback is in full swing

“guys” you’re whispering to the camera, so sure that the others won’t hear “dahyun looks so pretty today but i won’t tell her that, so instead i’m going to bother her”

you smile, with your sharp teeth and all, before bouncing away from the camera and to dahyun, who’s hands immediately cover you up with her jacket that she brought

“i can’t believe you” she’s barely even mad, she’s just pretending to scold you so she doesn’t get distracted

“but” you pout “you like this outfit”

“i do” her voice lowers, and it gets you thinking into something “but i don’t like sharing remember?”

“i do” dahyun barely notices it, but you’ve managed to lead her outside of the practice room and into a convenient ‘out of order’ comfort room “i just wanna look good for mommy”

that short circuits her brain, the panic visibly shown on her face and it makes you giggle. it’s then that you lock the door, push her to sit on the marble sink and kiss her, hands gripping on whatever clothing that it can hold

“baby” she’s trying to push you away, but she knows if she continues any longer than this she will not be able to focus at all in practice “baby please”

her hands, are now scratching your exposed skin, not enough to leave any marks but enough for you to whimper while kissing her

“can’t keep your hands to yourself mommy?” you’re voice is her favorite sound, but when it’s raspy and needy for her it makes her lose her very composure “i know what will help”

she tries so hard, she really does, but when you lips kiss her neck, she lets out a moan that she is quick to cut off, remembering where they are

“shhh you don’t want the others to hear you don’t you?” dahyun must be under a spell, because now you’re hand has manage to pull down her sweatpants and underwear, leaving for you to use your fingers to part her lips, simply teasing her even further “unless of course you like that mommy. you want them to see how much of a good girl i am for taking care of you hm?”

you’re evil, laughing as you get on your knees and make a show of making a one slow lick from bottom to top

dahyun prays to god for the strength she needs to stay absolutely quiet

“we don’t have time” despite how evil you can be, you know when to not push your luck today. so get to work and start eating her out, a finger teasing her entrance while you do

it doesn’t take long, your enthusiasm and dahyun’s neediness, your now pumping in two fingers at a respectable fast pace, all while you’re eating her out like you’ve been starving for days

“that’s it” with this rate of your fingers moving and your tongue, dahyun wishes she can be a bit more louder, but she settles with deep breaths and holding your hand “so good baby, you’re so good at fucking me”

you’re sure to make her weak to even practice for the next hour, because your nails are digging on her thighs, said thighs are crushing your head and her hands are desperately grasping anything other than your hair and the white marble counter to get a grip

she’s so close, the peak is right there. just within one’s grasp. she just needs to hear you say the words

“cum for me”

dahyun’s moan is cut off, the only sound both of you can hear is your own mouth on her pussy, sucking and lapping any of her cum that’s dripping out of her. she can barely breathe, and yet when she looks down at you, looking up at her with doe eyes and a lopsided smile, scattering kisses all over her thighs, her brain goes a bit overdrive

in the nick of time you manage to clean her up and help her get back her reigns, promising to give her some of your energy bar and your sports drink to keep her energy up through the day. her body leaning towards you as you both finally move to leave the ‘pit of order’ comfort room

“you want to continue that tonight?” you can’t wait for tonight, can’t wait for her to get back at you and claim what’s hers

“tonight” you let her kiss you again to seal the deal “i’ll get back at you tonight”

the thing is, as you both emerge from the ‘out of order’ comfort room, both mina and momo also emerge from the supply closet just a couple of steps down

dahyun and mina both stare at each other, faces red at the realization of the implication

you and momo simply smile at each other, happy to get a early lunch

[j0kers-light]

Hey Chaos! I have a headcanon idea, I think you do accept those and what you have are the closed oneshots??? Correct me if I'm wrong and feel completely free to ignore this ask

How do you feel about Joker x Mermaid! reader, maybe before he was the Joker, being Jack, or maybe his previous form, a malformed and strange mix of the man he was before and the one he will become in the future, a tormented soul who in the middle of the war he is fighting, trying to find a meaning to his life, hears a sweet song that draws him to the sea

It is then that she sees Reader, a mermaid wounded by some bullet, bomb, debris that has fallen into the sea, and she sees the goodness in him, and for a second he believes that he can be good, but upon seeing the monster hiding behind that man's eyes, Reader decides to leave forever.

What do you think about writing something like this?? Maybe headcanons pre during and post relationship (without hinting much at J's past, we love our mysterious King!)

Thank you!!🩷

His Lighthouse: Surface Level (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Surface Level - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

Hey hi my sweet anon!!

Now I thought I was gonna let this be a head canon.... then I got to typing and here we are. It turned into a oneshot! Your idea got my brain a flowing and I was unable to stop. I had TOO much fun with this one and it shows. Thank you so much for your patience and I do hope you enjoy. 🥰🥰

As always, if you wish to be apart of the His Lighthouse official taglist, do let me know via comment, ask, or a quick direct message! 🖤✨

P.S. if anyone is interested in the first siren call you sing listen to this 👇🏾for inspiration.

Captain said not to wander the beach late at night. Several men were already declared missing for not heeding the warnings. 

The local elders of the island also warned the men not to invoke her wrath. Their foreign chants sounded like rubbish to Jack’s ears yet he felt something strange befall him after one of the women flicked seawater infused with tropical herbs on his face. He was then forced to drink something putrid all to strengthen his bond with the sea.  

They wanted to ‘protect the Americans’ and held a ceremony to bless the squadron when another solider was declared missing.  

In short, Jack was ready to leave this hell hole. The endless sea and squawking seagulls were driving him insane. Jack longed to be deployed in active duty, in the heat of battle; not keeping the peace with the natives who were blissfully unaware of the raging war surrounding them.  

None of their rituals and charms mattered and that was the mindset that led him to sneak out his barracks with a pack of cigs and a bottle of rum.  

No one would notice him gone. He was not well liked within his squadron, a loose cannon ready to blow, they described him. The others were content being stationed in the civilian zone. Not Jack. His fingers itched for war but for now he was stuck here.  

He kicked off his boots the second he arrived at the white sandy beach.  

It was beautiful out with the moon high in the sky. It casted a glow on everything and highlighted Jack lighting a cigarette. He blew the smoke into the night sky without a care.  

He didn’t care about anything as he took swigs from his bottle. Was this all he was good for? Getting drunk night after night guarding an island? 

There were times that Jack thought of drowning himself at sea just to get away from the absolute nothingness this place brought.  

His friends back home were lucky. Hal was stationed right on the front lines and Ethan had already died fighting for his country. It just wasn’t fair they got to prove themselves whereas Jack was stuck on some military base in the middle of nowhere.  

The island was so remote, half of the occupants didn’t speak English, and almost all of the children had never seen ‘Americans” before. It was ridiculous and don’t get him started on the local folklore.  

If he had to hear one more prayer to their make-believe deity, he would puke.  

“Stay away from the sea when Y/n calls!” A translated omen was told. “She preys on tormented souls, like you brave men! Do not fall to her song!” 

No one gave proof that she existed except for tales and fables and constant headaches with all this mythical nonsense.  

Did they really believe a woman, half fish, half goddess could lure men out to sea with just her voice? It sounded straight out of a children’s bedtime story.  

Jack rolled his eyes every time an elder pleaded with him as he prepped for a nighttime patrol. If this was a siren who drowned men in the sea, why were they purifying him with seawater?  

Yeah, he would be real careful while out on duty.  

He had a better chance of being shot than lured to sea by some fish. The night dragged on as Jack downed his bottle and pondered life while overlooking the ocean.  

It was still as beautiful as it been the first night he arrived several months ago. The waves were foamy, crashing onto the dark rocks lining the shore. All was quiet and before long, Jack’s eyelids started to fall.  

Until he heard something.  

It was the saddest melody he ever heard.  

Without thinking, he turned course and shuffled over to the more treacherous stretch of the island. Here jagged rocks outlined the shoreline for half a mile. The water was colder and darker, holding the secrets the locals so desperately tried to ward away.  

Funny how they worshipped and feared the sea. Or rather what lurked within.  

Jack had no conscious thought as the waves tickled his calves, inciting him to wade in deeper. He couldn’t feel the numbing cold, yet he felt the anguish and helplessness being sung so beautifully.  

The call echoed loudly over the waves until it stopped like a record scratch. It was enough to snap Jack out of his fog and realize he was standing waist deep in the ocean. 

“The f__k?” he wasn’t that drunk. How did he get in the water? 

Jack was preparing to return to shore when he heard a splash followed by a strangled moan. His instincts demanded he investigate.  

He fought the tides to reach a denser cluster of boulders. He froze when he peeked behind them.  

The Legends did not do you justice. Jack had never seen anything as gorgeous as you.  

You looked every bit a goddess until he made eye contact with you. Your eyes were milky white with no pupils and to make matters worse, a row of pointed teeth was baring at him in a show of aggression.  

You were beauty and the beast, yet he wasn’t afraid.  

His eyes were drawn to the big gaping wound on your hip—or where your hip should’ve been if you were human. A mermaid tail took the place of human legs. Regardless of your anatomy, you were wounded given how you weakly clung to the jagged rocks.  

Jack slowly crouched down to inspect you further when you flicked your tail, dousing him with a powerful spray of water.  

He almost went under if he didn’t grab ahold of your tail. You yelped in pain and tried to shake the male off, but he was strong.  

He swallowed seawater in the struggle as you threatened to bash his head against the rocks. Jack fought back and pulled himself up on a flat boulder to catch his breath. “I’m tryna to help ya and ya try n’ drown me?!”  

He pointed at your abdomen. “That. Me. Help. Do you under-stand?” He acted out each word like did with the locals.  

You eyed this man warily. He was not the human you wished to lure tonight.  

You needed food to help heal yourself after swimming too close to naval ships fighting each other. Humans and their pointless wars. One of their weapons exploded too close and sent shrapnel flying into your tail.  

You couldn’t move your hips to propel yourself through the water— although you tried. The searing pain made it impossible to return home and you were already afar off to begin with.  

The island you were stranded on was inhabited by mortals who worshipped you and your ancestors, so you tried to call a believer for aid. 

None came and you were growing weaker by the minute. A wave pushed you more inland and subsequently, beached you on a low tide. The shallow pool was knee deep for a human but useless for your means of survival. It was a glorified kiddie pool and soon to be grave.  

The last human you expecting to hear your sweet song was this man. You could sense the turmoil and darkness lurking in his soul. How could he help you when he needed help himself? 

You did not wish to be bothered with him, but he was the only mortal who heard your cry for help.  

The pain was getting worse, and it took everything in you to sing at all. You lived for centuries; you refused to be bested by a torpedo and low tide.  

Jack was getting impatient awaiting a response. He assumed you didn’t understand English (he was surrounded by idiots these days), but you shocked him when you reached out and touched his arm.  

Like a bolt of lightning, he felt your words. ‘Yes mortal, I understand.’ 

Your fingers slipped away, and Jack saw how they left a tribal like marking on his pale skin. “What the.... What did you do?”  

He rubbed at the f/c lines and dots in panic. He glanced up when he heard a series of sharp clicks. Were you laughing?  

Apparently, he was wrong.  

You sacrificed your position in the shallow water to reach out and touch him and now you were too weak to submerge your gills again. He was hearing you choke.  

How did he come to that conclusion; he didn’t want to know.  

Jack acted fast and shoved your head underwater. He was expecting bubbles, a normal human reaction, but you were anything but. 

You gladly opened your mouth and sucked in precious water you needed to survive. It made for quite the provocative sight, although Jack wasn’t complaining. You were very easy on the eyes and currently nude by human standards.  

His eyes wandered down your chest where an octopus was attached. Its tentacles wrapped around you like a shawl and (for the time being) it covered your modesty. He knew he was drunk, but it still blew his mind.  

‘You are staring.’ 

Jack was startled back to the present when your pseudo voice scratched his brain. It was an odd sensation; one he was getting used to.  

“Well, you’re a f__king mermaid, yeah I’m gonna stare.” He backed off when you resurfaced with a pained grimace.  

Your skin was still touching his so you spoke again, ‘Mermaid?’ 

“Ah yeah, its uh.. what we call your kind I guess.” Jack’s hands naturally moved towards your injury to access the damage.  

It was oozing a gelatinous black substance, and it didn’t look good even by his standards. “I don’t know how to treat this. Ya know, since you ain’t human.” He added.  

You rolled your vacant eyes and looked at the stars. Jack noticed your gills moving at the base of your neck and at the tiny seashells that seemed to be embedded into your skin. You looked every bit a mermaid, straight out of a storybook.  

It still wasn’t clicking in his mind that you were real. 

You tapped his skin. ‘Just north of here there is a deeper alcove. Take me there.’ You telepathically said.  

“What?” Jack sputtered. How did you expect him to transport a wounded mermaid up the beach? His facial expression gave away to his thoughts.  

You squeezed his wrist, ‘You are capable.’ 

“And you look heavy!” He scoffed. Although he did drills like lifting heavy loads of gear, you were a mythical creature. You sent him tumbling with a mere flick of your tail and that was you wounded. He gave you a once over. How was he gonna go about this? 

The same odd clicks you made earlier escaped your throat but in a lower decibel. Jack panicked still not knowing what it meant. “What’s wrong.” 

‘Hurts.’ you closed your eyes and sighed. He had nothing to lose helping you, so he quickly made up his mind. It beat drinking the night away.  

“You said north, right? In some cave or whatever? Take a deep breath... err gulp? Whatever you do to survive.” He waited until you took on more water before picking you up bridal style.  

You weren’t prepared and wrapped your arms around his neck, ever mindful of your talon like nails. He lifted you with ease.  

Yves, your pet octopus moved a few tentacles to cover your wound as Jack navigated through the low tide in a northerly direction. He honestly didn’t know how to get to the cove you mentioned.  

He just let his feet guide him until he saw a small gap in the rock formation that looked right. Your people carved it out over a millennia ago and the humans that settled here declared it hallowed ground ever since.  

The healing water in the alcove would speed up your recovery but not fast enough. You just needed enough strength to swim home. You did not like dwelling above surface level for prolonged periods of time.  

You only emerged to hunt the sailors disrespecting your waters and to lure nonbelievers to their death.  

Interacting with a human for this long was a rarity that you did not prefer. Though this man in particular wasn’t so bad. He smelled faintly of your favorite kelp. 

You lulled in and out of consciousness as Jack struggled to carry you to the cove. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but you were heavy. Your tail made moving difficult as you couldn’t help flicking it, offsetting his balance as he walked.  

It was beautiful, you were too. Simply indescribable.  

From your dark skin tone to your curly hair tangled with seashells and fine gold thread, Jack now believed the locals when they declared you a goddess.  

A string of fresh pearls hung from the crown of your head that framed your face. He assumed you were royalty, given that a rare blue diamond hung from the knot of pearls at the center of your forehead. How it stayed fastened had to be magic.  

He had an urge to steal it if not for the two crabs clipping your hair out of your face weren’t watching him attentively.  

Precious jewels, octopus, and crabs weren’t your only abnormal accessory.  

More sea life seemed to cling to you, as if it were an honor to adorn your body. Jack tried to not freak out when he noticed the scales of your tail move as if they were alive themselves. He could even see barnacles growing at the joints of your elbows and lower tail. 

Everything about you was fascinating.  

He finally made it to the cove with you in tow. He took one step inside and shivered sensing something in the air. 

“I’m getting tired of this magic s__t.” Jack grumbled.  

He grunted as he lowered you into the water that glowed with bioluminescence fish. You chirped as you sank down, at last, fully submerged. Your hands played with the plankton coming to your aid until you noticed Jack awkwardly standing at the mouth of the cove.  

His fatigues were soaked through, and you admired him more closely now that the moon poured through the carved ceiling above. He was a model solider, all muscles and fine stature. His redeeming qualities however were surface level. Only you could see the darkness in his heart.  

And yet, you sensed a glimmer of light in him too. There was still hope for this mortal. For now. 

You curled a finger beckoning him closer. 

Now he understood the elders' warnings. With just a finger, you had him stepping into the sea. This alcove was deeper than the public beach back yonder. Jack couldn’t see the bottom and that made him wary. Was it wise to swim in a bottomless grotto with a mythical monster? 

No, nevertheless, he knew you wouldn’t drown him. You still needed him. You visibly struggled to stay afloat and Joker swam out to help you. It felt silly helping a fish to swim; it was the least he could do. 

Speaking of, he was at a loss here. Jack hesitated before asking. “What now?”  

You huffed as you floated on your back. A swarm of plankton hovered over your wound, but they wouldn’t be enough. At this rate, your recovery would take ages.  

Jack swam nearby, his hand darting out when you tipped your head back. He kept forgetting that was normal for you. You weren’t drowning. Neither you nor Jack seemed to mind that his fingers played with your hair. He loved the curly texture of it and how it defied the laws of physics. It felt dry to the touch despite being soaking wet.  

He kept the required physical contact needed to speak to him so you allowed it.  

‘Can you fish?’ you asked him. You were starving.  

Jack thought back to the many fishing trips his father dragged him along on when he was younger. ‘Bonding time with his old man.’ What good that did. He hated the man he was forced to call father.  

But you didn’t want to hear a pointless core memory of his, you wanted an answer. Jack nodded, “Yeah. I don’t got a line though.”  

Oh. You forgot humans hunted differently. He required equipment it seemed. You pouted, sounding like a rattlesnake hissing. ‘Useless.’  

Before Jack could protest, you gestured for him to cover his ears. He slapped his wet hands over them and waited.  

You used the last of your energy to lure a fish into the cove. Jack heard bits and pieces of your melody (his human ears weren’t able to pick up most of the notes) although he did feel a pull. Something primal in his brain ordered him to follow and he kicked his legs until he was practically glued to your side.  

Perhaps that was the reason you urged him to cover his ears. He was falling victim to your call. A shame he was already where he wanted to be.  

Screw patrols. He didn’t care if his Captain discharged him for abandoning his post. Swimming with an ancient mermaid was the most entertainment Jack had in months even if all this swimming was giving him a workout.  

You gave him the all clear to remove his hands. Jack did while watching a swordfish answer your call. 

It swam from the dark waters below and circled the two of you. Much to his horror, you plucked it from the water and proceeded to consume it raw.  

It was morbid and secretly hot to witness you in your element. You ate your fill with a flare of elegance and spat out the bones.  

He was captivated. You licked your lips clean once you were finished and checked under your nails for any debris. Some things were still human in nature. Your milky eyes grew heavy as sleep threatened to take hold. Jack noticed you slowly sinking into the water and got your attention by tugging your hair.  

“Someone’s sleepy. Will the big bad fish be alright on her own?” He had to get out of this cold water and return to base. He was losing feeling in his fingers.  

A violin sounding chord signaled your yawn. Your hand cupped Jack’s cheek affectionately to speak. 

‘Fret not, I will remain here. You need to get out the water.’ Yves pointed towards a forgotten trail leading out of the grotto with a slimy tentacle. ‘That leads to land.’ 

At least now he wouldn’t be left stumbling through the dark.  

Sneaking back while soaking wet was gonna be tough. His sergeant was gonna killl him should he found out. Even with all his responsibility, Jack hesitated to leave you here alone. “I’ll uhh check on ya tomorrow?  

‘Go.’ You urged. You swatted the water, creating a sizable wave to carry him back to shore. Jack stumbled to his feet after spending so much time in the water. By the time he looked back, the ocean was still, and you were nowhere in sight.  

Jack hoped he didn’t dream last night up.  

No one noticed him gone and he managed to creep back into his bunk (freshly changed of course) before morning call. The next day was done in the same monotonous schedule he kept for months now.  

Roll call, patrols, mess hall, guard change, and repeat. He begrudgingly did it all, bidding his time until the sun set. He made full usage of his breaks to visit the market in town and stock up on supplies. On his list was a first-aid kit, wool blankets, and lots of fresh fish. The fish monger raised an eyebrow but didn’t pry.  

The soldiers that invaded ahem.. protected the island were a curious lot. Jack was no different. He was planning to spend the evening with a mermaid. Jack tipped his helmet before leaving.  

If he stayed a moment longer, he would have seen the old man croak over after catching a glimpse of the mark you left on Jack’s arm.  

He stashed his purchases in the pathway near the hidden grotto before dressing down into something more lightweight. His fatigues were practical but not ideal for prolonged periods in the cove’s mineral based water.  

He was teeming with excitement to see you. Would you be feeling better? Would you like the fish he brought? Would you be happy to see him?  

“Get a hold of yourself, she’s just a fish. A big, ancient, gorgeous, deadly fish...” Jack uttered to himself as he made the dangerous trek down to the cove.  

The setting sun guided him well until he ducked into the natural cave. Inside, it was dimly lit by the walls blocking the sun until he entered the main alcove where supernatural light flourished. 

Jack didn’t know what to expect. What if something happened last night while you slept? Could someone have found you during your moment of weakness? Did you up and leave?  

A thousand questions swirled inside his head as he walked to the water’s edge.  

It was calm, too calm—now that he knew about the dangers it contained. He saw the way you ate that swordfish last night. You were confident in your strength and there was an air of ancient wisdom that shrouding you. You been around for a while. The things you had seen in your lifetime... 

“Uh hello? Y/n?” Jack called out only to snort to himself.  

The human was calling the siren. He kicked the water to create ripples, hoping that would work. Just how deep was the pool? A deep sea fish swam here so rather deep. He dipped his legs in and popped open a bottle of rum as he waited.  

He forgot that you were injured, that probably delayed your trip to the surface. He nibbled on the bread and cheese he bought from the market. He wondered how long you would stay here until you were healed. Not like he cared or anything—he just enjoyed having something to do.  

That is, if you were coming back anytime soon. “This blows.” Jack sighed.  

He shivered at a sudden cold breeze and turned to fetch the wool blanket from his bag. While his back was turned, your head rose from the water.  

You sensed his presence when he created ripples in the water but struggled to surface with your limited energy. The swordfish you caught last night helped fight against your hunger, however; you were still ravenous. You tried swimming into deeper waters to call for help but you became exhausted fairly quickly.  

This wound had you stuck in your ancestral grotto. Which was fine if this man helped you recover.  

You watched him take out a long piece of textile to wrap himself with. He must be cold, you thought curiously. He locked eyes with you and jumped back.  

“Gahh! F__k!” How long had you been watching him in silence? You really were a predator. 

All he could see was your face from the nose up. The water was calm around you, not a ripple to be found. “You scared me.” Jack panted.  

You didn’t move and he idly kicked his feet back and forth in the water. Talk about a 180 from your mood yesterday, you just stared at him. “I uh brought you fish.” He took out the packages the fish monger wrapped for him.  

That got you to come forward, yet he was quick to notice your movements were sluggish. You didn’t glide through the water like last night. Something was wrong.  

“Hey... you okay? Oh! Ohh uhh..” Jack froze when you flopped your head onto his lap. He didn’t move (as if he could, you were heavy) as your hand squeezed his calf muscles.  

Even your voice felt off. ‘Thank you.’ You preferred your fish alive, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. You appreciated the thought. You glanced up into green eyes, clicking lowly in distress. 

“I know that sound. What’s wrong, ya don’t too good. Here.” Jack unpacked a whole mackerel, (your favorite) and held it to your lips. The implication was not lost on you.  

‘Feeding a monster? Aren’t you a brave solider?’ you mocked.  

Jack didn’t let your words affect him, “Open wide.” He watched your vacant eyes roll before you unhinged your jaw, slowing off the razor-sharp teeth and an unnaturally colored tongue. He slowly lowered the fish into your mouth and let go when your teeth grazed his palm.  

He couldn’t believe he was in some secret grotto feeding a mythical being. It would make for a wild bar conversation.  

It definitely wasn’t what he signed up for when he enlisted. You plucked the spine from your mouth with a sigh. ‘Do you have any more?’ You asked.  

Jack took pity seeing your sad eyes. He knew that look too well. You were weak from hunger. “Y-Yeah.. I uh bought a lot for ya.”  

And that’s how he spent the next half hour, hand feeding you in between bites of his own bread and cheese spread.  

His twisted mind saw it as a date. Yeah, a date with a gigantic fish. Jack huffed, jolting your head resting in his lap. You whined, voicing your displeasure.  

“Sorry uhh.” It was then Jack realized he didn’t know your name.  

The locals called you Y/n sure, but you did not know the term mermaid until yesterday. He found himself wondering what your actual name was. 

‘What ails you?’ You spoke after seeing a faraway look take over his features. He fed you well and now you were content resting your head on his lap. He was warm unlike the harsh coldness of the sea. You… kinda liked it.  

“I had a moment, I guess. I uhh.. I don’t know your name.” He confessed. It donned on you that you didn’t know his either.  

You tried avoiding the question with one of your own. ‘What do other humans call you?’ 

“Oh, now ya wanna know my name?” Jack laughed. All this time the two of you had yet to exchange formalities.  

He felt so embarrassed. His mama raised him better! You were a lady and deserved some respect. Jack straightened up while clearing his throat.  

“Private Jack White reportin’ for duty.” He fake saluted and laughed at your confused head tilt. He’d explain later. “The locals call you Y/n, the revered sea deity, but what should I call ya oh great one?” 

You rose to grab Jack’s face and pull him down so you could rub your nose with his. You spoke your given name into his head and watched him try out the pronunciation. 

“Did I say that right?” Jack teased.  

‘No. Humans do not have enough vocal cords. You are unable to replicate the vowels.’  

Another thing that separated you from him. Now he was told his speech was too primitive. “Whatever, it sounds hot in my head. Y/n it is then.”  

He assumed rubbing noses was your people's version of a kiss, so he repeated the gesture back. He chuckled when you jerked back with a shrill like chirp. Your tail flicked up from the water, hitting him with ice cold droplets. “So cute..” he mumbled.  

Although the temperature drop was his signal to go. “It's getting late. You gonna be alright by yourself again?”  

You refused to touch him to speak after he caressed your nose.  

“Aww, did I make the Great Y/n all flustered?” He dodged you trying to claw at his ankles. “I think sooo. Get some rest, Y/n.” 

You regained enough energy to send him off with a farewell melody. He was still humming the tune to himself when he reached his barracks.  

Jack cherished the days he spent visiting you in the alcove.  

Some of his fellow soldiers poked fun at his sudden change in mood. “Oh, Jack caught the eye of a local!” They weren’t wrong.  

He was more friendlier on base all thanks to you. He looked forward to the nights spent with you; feeding you fish, sharing stories, and slowly but surely getting to know one another.  

It was inspiring to remember how you had originally feared Jack when he found you beached in the low tide. Now you practically dragged him under to be near him.  

“Easy, Y/n. Don’t drown me!” He let you pull him into the dark water to nuzzle his nose in greeting. He still didn’t know what the gesture meant but it made you happy.  

He loved hearing the purring sound of your delight. He did anything he could to hear it.  

He promised to spot your attempt to swim outside the grotto tonight. The line of rocks was an obstacle he could help you overcome. Your wound was steadily healing with the plethora of fatty fish Jack provided along with the kind plankton who blessed you. Neither of you wanted you to fully heal.  

The moment you were healthy meant you would leave, and Jack was growing rather fond of you. He unfortunately did not know how you felt about him.  

He would be a fool to believe you actually enjoyed a human’s company. He was prey, not a companion. You had Yves for that and Jack envied the sentient octopus that clung to your bosom.  

He tried to shake off his feelings to no avail.  

You were otherworldly in terms of beauty and keenly aware of your charms. Even if the match was virtually impossible, he liked where things were going with you. He would cherish each day he had left.  

“Good job, now... come here.” Jack said to urge you back.  

This was your fourth time swimming laps from the ocean entrance of the alcove back to his arms. He could tell you were pushing yourself, judging by your hooded eyelids and agitated tail swishes.  

It was exercise to promote core strength back to your tail.  

You made it back to Jack and collided with him due to your exhaustion. He fell onto shore with you in his arms. “H-Hey, Y/n, you good?”  

The massive blue diamond on your forehead swayed as you nodded. Jack was speechless watching a beam of moonlight overhead highlight your beauty. Your lips parted and he was reminded how close the two of you were when it brushed his lower lip.  

This was wrong. You weren’t even human! but that didn’t stop Jack. He audibly swallowed as the moment drew tense.  

“F__k it.” He shortened the distance and captured your lips with his. You bristled at the contact until Jack tangled a hand in your hair and guided you through the motions.  

He rolled you over so the incoming wave could rehydrate your gills. He on the other hand needed air and pulled away with a smile. “Even better than I imagined.” Jack said listlessly.  

‘What.. what was that?’ You asked him. You brought a finger up to inspect your lips. They were tingling.  

“I ah.. that was a kiss. Kinda like how you rub my nose. That’s um.. it’s the equivalent of that for humans.” He explained.  

‘I don’t understand. You respect me enough to kiss me?’ 

“Wait what?” Jack was confused now. “What does,” he leaned down to nuzzle his nose with yours, “this mean?” 

‘You value or you respect me greatly. It is the highest form of gratitude for my kind.’ You confessed. Your eyes shifted away as your ears turned red.  

Oh. Not what he was expecting but still rather important. You were showing your gratitude, and he thought… 

Jack brushed a curl away from your face, “So… does your kind kiss like we just did?” 

He burst out laughing at you covering your face. Jack could tell you wanted to slip underwater in embarrassment. He wouldn’t let you.  

He pried your hands away so he could see you. “Cmon Y/n!” 

You were about to show him when a loud alarm sounded over the island. You growled and without hesitation, dragged you and Jack into the safety of the ocean. He quickly broke the surface to breathe.  

“Y/n! F__k, warn me next time! S__t, we might be under attack.” He tried to swim away to leave, but your nails dug into his wrist. “Y/n let go.”  

Then the first canon echoed off in the distance. You cried out, gaining Jack’s attention. He never seen you look so terrified.  

He snatched you up into his arms, tucking your head into his chest. “They won’t hurt you again. I promise.” He leaned back just enough to kiss you softly. “Stay outta sight, I’ll be back.”  

‘Jack…’  

If gunfire was heard this far away, you could only imagine the reality of it on land. You didn’t want him to go.  

“I’ll be back. Yeah?” He caressed your face as he drifted closer to the shore. You still didn’t let go so he got desperate.  

He locked eyes with Yves on your shoulder. “Take care of my girl.” He glanced at you again, “I’ll be back Y/n.” He wrestled himself out of your arms and swam to the grotto shore.  

There was little time to grab his things. Gunfire meant contact with the enemy. He needed to find a weapon and report to his sergeant for orders. 

Yet Jack hesitated.  

He looked back towards the ocean and saw your head poking out. You were centuries old but terrified of man and their weapons. It made him sick to his stomach.  

He didn’t know if mermaids could cry although you looked close to tears.  

Jack groaned as he took off his dog tags and wrapped them around your neck. You were about to ask him what it was when he stole your train of thought with a passionate kiss.  

It felt like a goodbye.  

Jack pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. “Wait for me, hm?” 

You nodded once and watched him disappear up the trail. The small glimmer of light you saw in Jack faded away as he left. You knew he wouldn’t return but you still blindly waited.  

You waited all night for the fighting to cease. You waited till the morning after when more ships arrived and departed in droves. You waited even as the waters changed warmth with the new season. You waited and waited and waited until it was obvious.  

Jack was gone.  

Years passed and he was a changed man.  

He’d seen enough war and the pointlessness it created to rebel from authority. It changed him and not for the better. You would not be pleased with the hatred festering in his heart, not like he cared.  

He didn’t care about anything.  

He saw the world with new eyes— he wasn’t the restless private stuck on an island anymore. Oh, but he missed those days terribly. His wrist itched every full moon, reminding him of a time he felt free. 

Free to be himself and to be understood by another. You were the only person who willingly listened to his ramblings. You didn’t interrupt or belittle his opinions, you let him speak freely and encouraged him to be open minded. He looked back on those months fondly.  

But that was the past. Now he wanted to destroy the future.  

“Ay Boss. Boss..? Yo J!” Frost had enough and yelled out to Joker.  

He almost didn’t respond. Joker. He went by The Joker now not..  

“There’s nothing here, Joker and it’s getting dark soon.” Frost kicked a nearby rock into the water. “We’re ready to leave when you are.” 

Joker nodded and returned his gaze out to the sea.  

He felt stupid coming all the way here after so many years away. The military base was now a museum, and the locals had been completely overrun by tourism from the growing resort industry nearby.  

Things were vastly different, but your grotto remained untouched.  

It was still tucked away on the northern shoreline with jagged rocks making it impossible to boat to. Mankind could not reach you and Joker preferred it that way.  

Years later, he still slipped a bit descending down the hidden trail. Was it always so dangerous or did love motivate him forward? He lost that feeling ages ago so a few scrapped knees and hands was the price to pay.  

What did he expect to find? You patiently waiting in the water, flicking your tail in anticipation? He hated himself for believing that you would.  

Frost was right. There was nothing here.  

He had to stop dwelling on the past. Promises were made to be broken. Joker had moved on and deep down, he hoped that you did the same.  

He sighed as he stood up to leave (for good this time) when he heard something. He froze, thinking he was finally losing his mind but no. It was faint, but it was heard loudly in his heart.  

Jack heard your call.  

[librarycards]

do you have any tips for making reading more accessible for people with attention / focus issues and low energy? i feel like whenever i try to read, i'm missing huge chunks of information or otherwise not reading as closely as i would like due to having adhd, and it discourages me from reading entirely.

ty for the question! I've addressed this in some ways here and here, but i'm also listing some quick bullet points for both pleasure / leisure reading and for more intentional reading (it's important to have both in your life!)

intentional reading: citation managers, esp. Zotero, are your friend. Read slowly and annotate. annotation forces your brain to get out of skim-mode and really think about what you need to remember from a given passage! it's best to do this when you're not on a deadline, because you can take all of the time you need.

intentional reading: for many people, print is the only way they can read intentionally, as digital is too distracting. try printing readings or using only paper books, and get physical with them - colored highlighters and pens, post it notes, etc. physical engagement helps a lot! write in your books!

intentional reading and leisure reading: if you're worried about not retaining information, try doing a quick mental summary after every x number of pages, or every chapter, etc. like, okay, if your friend asked "what happened in chapter 3" what would you say? I do this all the time, especially when i'm reading more intricately plotted scifi/fantasy with lots of unfamiliar words/names, as i get confused. if it's a very popular book with existing summaries, you can also read a chapter summary after finishing a chapter and make connections/go back to places you didn't understand. this is the best use of sparknotes and similar services, imo.

for leisure reading: you're reading for fun, so make your environment as comfy as possible. do you have a drink or snack with you? do you have your annotation materials close? make reading as convenient as possible so that you don't have to interrupt your time.

if you're busy or work with your hands, try an audiobook! you can speed it up or slow it down, depending on your brain's processing speed. [i listen to mine on 2x speed (narrator accent permitting) bc i'm a maniac.]. for a lot of people, stimming while reading helps them stay focused, so if you stim by knitting/doing something with both hands, audio might be for you.

for leisure and intentional reading, especially if the book is very difficult, you can try listening to an audiobook while reading a physical copy! if you're in college and have accommodations, you might be able to get audio copies of otherwise unavailable books through disability services.

lastly, for leisure reading: don't be afraid to start basic. there's kind of a novella boom happening right now, and a lot of books below 200 pages getting the recognition they deserve (if people want, i can make a recs post for short books?). if you can read ten pages a day, you can finish a 200 page book in less than 3 weeks, which is a lot more encouraging than picking up a 600 page tome. if you want to start smaller, try 5 pages! some people assume that they need to read a ton immediately, but what matters is that you're enjoying it and getting something from it. Quality >>>>> quantity.

Let me know if this is helpful/if you have any other questions! Good luck and happy reading :)