#sorry in advance if i disappear for a short period of time

[gyummigon]

☆ txt when you stain the bed because of your period

txt!reader

୨୧ word count:  2.5k  ୨୧ genre:  fluff, angust ୨୧ a/n: inglish is not my native language, so sorry in advance.

˗ˏˋ yeonjun ˎˊ˗

You were in the middle of a fit of despair when Yeonjun entered the room. He had intended to surprise you by bringing you breakfast in bed before you woke up, but stopped when he saw you standing in the middle of the room, awake and about to burst into tears.

"Oh, good morning," he greeted, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he sensed the panic with which you looked at him. Slowly, he scanned the room with eyes wider than usual, but his brow furrowed even more when he found nothing out of the ordinary. "Why are you standing there, is something wrong?"

You shook your head, glancing sideways at the red stain that had awakened you in horror that morning. You hadn't even had time to clean the mess off your clothes, and you hated the fact that you couldn't move without risking your boyfriend seeing the worst of you. Even though you knew that Yeonjun wouldn't judge you for such a thing, you couldn't suppress the desire to disappear and send your soul to the other side of the world.

Yeonjun read your body language and the gesture did not go unnoticed, he approached you curiously, craning his neck to see what was troubling you. "Heh," he exclaimed as he looked at the unexpected red circle painted over the spot where you had been sleeping minutes before. "Is that...?"

You let out an embarrassed groan and looked down at the floor, your face flushed. "I'm sorry," you whispered and squeezed your legs together, suddenly feeling exposed and completely vulnerable.

Yeonjun let out a soft laugh as he placed the tray of food on the bedside table and walked over to you with a gentle smile. "Oh, did that wake you, dear?" he murmured, leaning down to massage your shoulders. "It's just a little blood, no big deal. Let me clean it up for you."

Without another word he turned and started to remove the sheets from the bed, his movements were calm and he didn't seem to be affected by your little accident in the least. This for some reason made you feel even more embarrassed and you remained unable to look away from him, not knowing whether to apologize again or take advantage of the fact that his back was turned to escape to the bathroom. When he noticed that you didn't move, Yeonjun stopped and looked at you over his shoulder. "Go ahead and get cleaned up, I'll be here if you need anything."

"It's okay, I'm sure you're disgusted, I'll do it myself." You said and moved to take the sheet out of his hands, but Yeonjun stepped back.

"It doesn't gross me out," he replied, shaking his head with a flirtatious smile. "God, you're so cute."

"But I..."

Yeonjun put his finger to his lips, signaling you to shut up and stop talking. "You really should get cleaned up and changed," he murmured as he turned around and finished removing the sheets. His words were delivered with a smile, his tone soft and reassuring. "I'll have the bed clean before you've had a chance to finish showering, then we'll have a nice breakfast."

˗ˏˋ soobin ˎˊ˗

"Oh my God," Soobin's face turned bright red as he looked at the stain on the bed and on your shorts. He had just woken up, he was still half asleep and had a hard time processing what had happened.

Your body was lying next to him, your face buried in the pillow that covered part of your face as you slept. You didn't seem to be aware of the situation. One of your arms was draped over your head, giving you a very calm and peaceful appearance. He couldn't allow you to continue sleeping in this state, but he knew how sensitive you were to this kind of accident, so he thought twice before making any move.

"Woah, this... " He stood up carefully, not wanting to alarm you. He stood still for a moment, wondering how to make it look like he didn't care that you were having your period in bed. Should he wake you up, say good morning, or let you sleep on? I had no idea how to handle such a situation.

You slowly opened your eyes as you felt him shake your shoulders. "Are you okay?" Soobin murmured, his voice still hoarse and tired. He looked down at the stains again, unable to help himself. "You had a little accident, honey."

"What?" you asked, your eyes still watery from sleep. With a look of confusion on your face, you looked down at the stained sheets and quickly understood what had happened, but felt too ashamed and embarrassed to say anything coherent right away. "I... oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't think I'd be starting again so soon. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll change the sheets right away."

Soobin couldn't help but laugh a little when he saw how embarrassed you were. Anyway, he gave you a kiss on the cheek and cuddled you a little against his chest to comfort you before helping you out of bed. "It's okay, I promise. I'm not mad at you. It's totally normal. I'll change the sheets and then I can make you some tea."

"L-let me help you!" You exclaimed as Soobin began to remove the sheets and blankets from the bed, revealing the stain under the mattress. You froze at the sight of the blood on the mattress and felt your stomach drop. "Oh my God," you muttered, staring at the stain. "Is the mattress ruined?"

"Hey, don't worry, really," Soobin said again, trying to sound reassuring. But seeing your embarrassment made him nervous, and he didn't know how to handle the situation. He tried to focus on the task at hand. "Let me wash the sheets and we'll see what we can do..." He grabbed the sheets from the bed and headed for the laundry room, giving you room to process what had happened.

˗ˏˋ beomgyu ˎˊ˗

"Beomgyu, stay out of the room," you shouted as you looked at the sheets with an expression of pure horror. You knew something was wrong when you woke up with the familiar stabbing pain in your belly, at first you went into denial and refused to believe that the wetness you felt between your legs was a product of your period, but when you got out of bed and saw the blood stained sheets, you took it for granted that this was going to be a very, very long day.

At least you were lucky that Beomgyu was in the bathroom and not in the bedroom when you woke up. But if only he'd listen to you for once.....

"What, why, I'm coming in."

"I told you to stay outside," you repeated as you saw him enter the room. You shivered slightly and couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the thought of someone seeing the mess and stain on your sheets. Beomgyu came over and stood next to you, showing her surprise at seeing the red stain on the bed.

"Woah, that... that's a big one. Did that really come from you?"

You gave him a nasty look, the embarrassment more than you could bear. You wanted him to go away, to leave the room, but you knew Beomgyu well enough to know how unlikely that would be.

"Yes, it's... it's from me," you whispered. "It's... it's my period," you added embarrassed and Beomgyu looked at you as if you were a stranger.

"I know, silly," he laughed and reached up to ruffle your hair, giving you a playful smile. "I can't believe Missy made such a mess," he joked, walking over to the edge of the bed. "Anyway, let's get this cleaned up. I doubt you want a permanent stain on this fancy bed."

Your face turned red at his teasing. You examined your stained sheets and felt your eyes fill with tears for no reason. "Please, Beomgyu, go away. Please, I'll clean up by myself."

"Hey, hey, relax, what's the big deal? It's no big deal, I swear. Leave it to me, I'll take care of it," he replied, now in a lighter and friendlier tone.

The embarrassment you felt about your body and the fact that your menstruation had made itself known in such a way faded as you saw the compassion and naturalness with which Beomgyu looked at you. You nodded weakly and silently thanked her.

"Am I not an adult?" he muttered to himself as he took the wet sheets and wrapped them in his arms. You tried to approach him to help him, but Beomgyu waved you away with his hands. "No, no, no, go take a shower and come back later. I'll take this and..." He paused and leaned over to take a closer look at the stain that had also been left on the mattress.

"Oh, that..."

"Wait, wait, wait," he interrupted, turning to look at you with a smile that, instead of reassuring you, made you nervous. "Don't worry about the stain. I'll turn the mattress over and no one will notice." He bent down and grabbed the corner of the mattress, ready to lift it up and flip it over, but stopped when he noticed you looking at him in horror.

"Okay miss, time to take a shower while I do my job," he said and walked over to you. Smiling, he put his arm around your shoulder and led you out of the room. "Come on, my little mess maker."

˗ˏˋ taehyun ˎˊ˗

"Are you okay?" Taehyun asked in a hoarse voice, opening one eye to look at the clock. It was 4 am and he could hear you pacing frantically around the room, muttering curses under your breath. He heard you approach the bed and took the opportunity to go back to sleep, but it wasn't more than ten seconds before your silence startled him. "Y/n?"

"Everything's fine. But..." You groaned and struggled with how to explain the little surprise painted on the sheets, staring at his back in panic and swallowing saliva. It was the first time this had happened to you in his presence and you didn't know how to handle the situation the way it should have been handled.

When Taehyun saw that you didn't continue talking, he turned to you and you silently pointed at the spot next to him. He followed the direction of your finger and looked quickly into your eyes, trying to hide his surprise and not make you feel more embarrassed than you seemed to be.

"I guess this was unplanned," he said calmly, as if talking to himself. "We'll have to clean that up."

Your cheeks turned bright red and you did your best not to let the intensity of his gaze affect you. Taehyun's newly awakened eyes made it harder and you couldn't think of the right words to say, so you just nodded silently.

He mimicked your action. After getting out of bed and putting on a t-shirt, he turned back to you and looked at the stain out of the corner of his eye. "It's no big deal though," he said, giving you a small smile. "No need to be embarrassed about a perfectly normal biological function."

"Thanks, but actually I can do it myself," you replied in a whisper, the thought of him having to clean up your mess making you very uncomfortable.

"I know you can," Taehyun said, still speaking in a calm, neutral tone. "But I'll do it myself." He bent down to pick up the sheets, his movements quick and efficient as he left the room. After a few minutes he returned with clean sheets and a damp cloth, which he used to clean the stain on the mattress. He worked in silence, his face still sleepy.

Without even knowing how to speak, you approached him and left a gentle touch on his back. "I'm... going to take a shower. I'm sorry and... thank you."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he replied without turning to look at you. He stood in front of the mattress for a few more seconds, quietly wiping the stain and putting the clean sheets back on the bed. After a moment he looked up and said, "You should take a shower. I'll be done before you know it."

˗ˏˋ huening kai ˎˊ˗

When Kai saw the look on your face when you saw him, the enthusiasm with which he entered the room faded. You were leaning over the bed, trying to pull back the sheets, the stains on which made it impossible for you to sleep again this morning. The fact that your friend returned from the kitchen faster than expected prevented you from avoiding this embarrassing situation.

Kai jumped back in surprise when he realized what was going on. His eyes widened in shock as he didn't know what to say or how to react. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!" he said, his voice high-pitched and full of panic as he stumbled into the room. "What are we going to do? Did this come unexpectedly?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," you said in panic and embarrassment. "I'll, I'll take care of it, get out of here."

"No, no, I won't leave you!" Kai said, a mixture of exaggeration and concern in his voice. "I'll just... we'll fix it. We'll clean it up. It's okay, we'll take care of it." He began to pull the sheets off the bed, his movements frantic and unsteady as he tried to remove them quickly. Once the sheets were off, he looked down at the mattress, his eyes widening like saucers when he saw the stain.

"The damn thing's still there," you exclaimed as you looked at the scene in disbelief, your voice changing from panic to horror.

"No problem, we'll fix it. Relax," Kai said, trying to sound reassuring as he frantically searched his brain for an answer and you covered your face in embarrassment. "Let's do this, I'll clean up while you shower and when you come out, we can change the sheets," Kai continued, shaking his head. "I don't know what to say, but it's not a problem, I'm here to help you. I'll, well, I'll clean this up and you go take a shower, okay?"

[jaylver]

YOU ARE IN LOVE — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: one summer. two idiots. what could possibly go wrong? you swore this was finally going to be a memorable summer, one where it'll be filled with adventures just like coming of age movies. but then jake sim just had to ruin it. how so? by taking over your head.

PAIRINGS: childhood bestfriend!jake x afab!reader

GENRE: childhood bestfriends to lovers, angst, romance, pining

WARNING(S): miscommunications, parties, alcohol, profanities

WC: 4.7k

A/N: this has been rotting in my docs for AGES before i even created this account 😭 i wanted to free it so here we are 👹 apologies in advance if it's tacky/lacky writing since this short fic was written when i was starting to get out of my burn out >.< lmk your feedbacks as always! <3

masterlist | © jaylver 2023 all rights reserved

Summer is the best thing to ever happen to mankind. 

Trips to the beach, ice cream dates, late night drives, house parties, the list goes on and on. And who else to spend it with? Of course, your one and only best friend and neighbour since you were four years old, Jake Sim.

Every summer was practically filled with him and him only. Ever since you were kids, you did everything together. Writing up lists and going on adventures, spending nights watching movies et cetera. But this summer, it seemed … different.

Maybe it was the problem of being seventeen. Seventeen is an awkward age. Period. But other than that, you couldn't understand the way he was acting.

Summer always started and ended with him. Always. But this summer, he wasn't anywhere near you. Occasionally popping by and disappearing after nightfall, declining late night movies together or beach trips. Rude!

It just felt weird without him. So, you found yourself turning up in front of his house one day, tapping your foot against the hard floor as you knocked impatiently on the door. 

"Y/N?" Jake appeared in front of you, his eyebrows scrunched with confusion.

“Jake,” you smiled innocently at him, which only made him look at you with more confusion. 

“Y/N it’s 10 pm?” 

“I just wanted to see you,” you admitted, to which you cursed at yourself for letting those words escape your lips so shamelessly because it was something you couldn’t deny. 

You could see the way his gaze softened, then proceeded to let out a sigh. “Is it … because I barely hang out with you these days?”

“So, you’re self aware this whole time?” you couldn’t help shooting back, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold wind brushed past. But even without the wind, you felt your body freezing up from the sudden burst of nerves.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy,” Jake frowned, guilt evident on his face. “Wanna come in, we can hang?”

Just as he finished his sentence, his phone buzzed, a notification popped up. Your eyes averted to the screen of his phone, catching a slight glimpse. “1 new message from Grace”

Your heart dropped. You knew Grace. Hell, everyone knew her, she was the cheerleader of your school after all. Miss Popular, Miss Crowned Queen. And Jake was texting her? Your Jake?

“So, Grace, huh?” Was this what he was caught up with all along? You mentally scolded yourself, wondering why you were even thinking about this when it wasn’t even your business to care about in the first place. This unreadable feeling was brewing in your stomach and you didn’t like it at all.

“It’s nothing, really. She texted me lately, that’s all,” he shoved his phone into his back pocket, giving you a reassuring smile. “Still up to hang?”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s getting late anyway. Tomorrow?” You didn’t know why you said this. It was never too late when it came to Jake. 

“Sure. I–uhm–heard there’s a party hosted by this guy called Ethan? Wanna come along?” 

You considered for a moment, then nodded. “I’m down.”

“Sweet,” he flashed you that goddamned smile, the one that charmed you until you felt light headed. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow,”

“Cool,” you smiled a little, feeling the air turning still for a second once you locked eyes with him. Your heartbeat quickened, it was as though air was sucked out from your lungs and all you wanted was him. 

“W-Wanna come over watch a movie with me tomorrow before the party? I’m home alone all day and we haven’t hung out properly for a while now,” Jake offered, stumbling over his words as he fidgeted his fingers, ears turning slightly pink.

You grinned. “How about the new Spiderman movie?”

He let out a small laugh, returning a big grin back. “You know me too well, huh? Deal.”

“See you tomorrow then, Jakey,” you reached over to ruffle his hair, but before you could fully pull away, he took hold of your wrist. 

“I’ve missed you, can’t you stay a little longer?” he whined, swinging your arm gently. 

You cursed at him, at his words and the amount of butterflies they’ve caused. “You can’t just say things like that,” you murmured under your breath.

“Hm?” he hummed and you looked up at him. 

You dismissed your previous words, hoping he didn’t catch on to them. “Tomorrow we’re hanging out the whole day anyway. By then you wouldn’t be missing me anymore,” 

“I miss you every day, though. Stick to my side like the old days?”

“How could I say no, Jakey?” you sighed, your heart thumping louder and louder as seconds passed. “Now, go sleep dumbass, we need to wake up early.” 

“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in defeat. “Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t stay up too late too, or else you’ll get premature wrinkles.” 

“I’ll beat you up.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

It felt natural.

You were resting on Jake's chest, his arms around you, a bowl balanced on your stomach, a movie blaring in the background, the lights dimmed. It was natural.

"Peter's pretty dumb sometimes, isn't he?" You spoke up, hand reaching into the bowl of popcorn, feeling Jake's hand brush against yours to get some as well.

You tried to excuse the fact that you were about to choke at the slight contact, playing it cool as you chewed on your popcorn.

"Totally. Why would he even do that?" Jake huffed.

You looked up at him from his chest, admiring his face slightly, not even caring about what misdemeanours Peter Parker was committing. 

Jake could feel you staring, and he decided to look down at you, your gazes meeting. This was what you two always do whenever you're watching movies, it should be normal by now, but why in hell were you suddenly nervous?

"Mum wants you to come over for dinner," you whispered to him, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his eyes.

"I'm more than glad to do so," Jake pursed his lips, watching your movements closely.

The tension seemed to grow thicker and the movie started to fade into the background as the two of you stayed in this close proximity. You unconsciously glanced at his lips, swallowing thickly once you noticed him reciprocating the same action.

"Y/N-"

"Jake!" 

You almost let out a groan, but instead you looked away, clearing your throat and removing yourself from Jake's body. You were absolutely flushed, thinking of the endless possibilities that could've happened. But in the end, nothing did anyway. And that was why you were about to strangle Park Jong Seong for interrupting. 

"Jay?" Jake fumbled to sit up, his eyes turning to you before refocusing on Jay. "Is it time to leave already?"

"Duh," Jay rolled his eyes, casually dropping onto the couch beside you. "How are you, Y/N? Been enjoying summer?"

"Quite," you simply shrugged. "Someone over here left me alone after he promised a summer full of adventures," you nudged Jake and he smiled apologetically.

"I got caught up with some things!" He defended but Jay raised an eyebrow at his words.

"Some things or some one?"

"What?" You turned to Jake, trying to mask your disappointment with sheer interest. "Is it Grace?"

"So … you knew?" Jay's eyebrows only raised higher.

"I only found out yesterday, indirectly as well." you said, clearly unimpressed.

Jake rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Come on, guys. She only texted me once or twice. I was busy cramming my work, okay?"

"That's true too," Jay nodded in understanding. "You practically procrastinated everything and now it's a pile,"

"Must you remind me of it?" Jake groaned, his attention to you, taking notice of your sudden silence. "You alright there?"

You blinked at him, humming in response. How could you tell him that your stomach churned with jealousy whenever Grace was mentioned? How could you even admit that you're currently harbouring some god forbidding liking towards him? Your childhood best friend? The one who once spilled chocolate milk all over his shirt? The one who cried when he was forced to go back home after a whole day together with you? Jake Sim? 

You were fucked. You liked Sim Jaeyun. And you had zero idea what to do about it.

The house party was basically like every other one you've been to. Passed out drunks here and there, the dance floor crammed to the max, the music booming loudly in your ears. Overall, you felt regretful coming here.

What made things worse was Jake abandoning you to talk to Grace. Yup, Grace. Even after all the denial he fed to you and Jay, he's still laughing and talking merrily to her, leaving you stuck in the middle of an unfamiliar house.

What a great Friday night!

It was almost midnight, so you decided to storm out of the house for some fresh air before declaring your leave, but Jake somehow caught you sneaking out.

"Leaving so soon?" He was leaning against the wall, watching your tired figure semi-passed out on the chair.

"God, Jake, you reek of alcohol," you pointed out, scrunching your nose at the stench. "Also, I'm not that inconsiderate. I won't leave you behind … unlike someone over here," you grumbled.

"Look, Grace dragged me away the moment I entered. Plus, I think I got to start avoiding her now," Jake groaned, sitting down next to you.

"Broke her heart?" You assumed. It wasn't uncommon to see Jake reject girls and break their heart growing up. Well, look at him, it was a fact that he got girls lining up for him. But you found it weird how he's never had a long term relationship before, which only made you more wary about your feelings for him.

"I wasn't being a douche about it!" He threw up his hands in defence. "I kindly rejected her, that's all. She seemed cool about it though," he shrugged and you felt his shoulder brush against your arm, his thigh making contact with yours.

"Look at you, all grown up and no longer breaking girls' hearts!" You smiled sarcastically at him. 

"Hey! I literally rejected all of them in a nice way. I'm a kind man, you know?" Jake huffed, stretching his body, then proceeded to slyly place his arms around you.

You were genuinely trying your hardest to remain the best poker face you could even manage. Yet, you knew the facade would eventually fade. "Sure, sure, Jakey boy."

He turned his body to face yours, a challenging expression written all over his face. "Do you remember the time when we were five and I gave you my legos? I still remember how many hugs you gave me every day after that. So yes, I am kind." Jake insisted.

"You remembered?" You grinned at him, feeling your heart rate increasing once you saw the fondness in his eyes.

"Of course I remembered," he said softly. "You give good hugs anyway."

"Want a hug?" You chuckled, not expecting Jake to actually dive into your arms and hold onto you tightly.

"You smell like strawberries," he murmured against your skin. 

You swallowed thickly and started breathing heavily. "A–are you drunk?"

"Just a bit," he pulled away from your body, his brown eyes meeting yours, his hands slowly travelling up to your face.

"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" He whispered.

"Don't do this," you mumbled, your hand reaching for his wrist.

"What?" He breathed, his warm breath fanning your cheeks. 

"Don't make me fall in love with you completely," you stared into his eyes, slight hurt and regret painted your expressions.

"Fuck, why did I say that?" you laughed pitifully at yourself, removing yourself from his arms and stood up. "It's getting late, let's go," you said, ignoring Jake's lingering gaze.

"Y/N," he held onto your wrist and you stood rooted to the ground, not knowing what you could even say or do. You felt like an idiot. "W–what did you mean by that?" 

"It's nothing," you dismissed his question, feeling yourself sinking into a deeper hole. Jake furrowed his eyebrows, clearly frustrated. The moment he got up, he stumbled slightly and his words slurred. The alcohol has finally seeped in.

"Y/N, come on," he urged, desperation in his eyes. All you could do was sigh. 

"I'm sorry, Jake." 

So you did what you always do every summer. You ran from your problems and hid from the fact you had lingering feelings for your "best friend".

You found yourself avoiding Jake after that night.

It was ironic how you complained about him disappearing in and out of your life during the start of summer, but here you were, doing the same.

He came over to your house a couple of times, but you chose the cowardly choice of hiding away. All of his texts and calls were half answered. 

You hated doing this, you knew it was hurting both you and him. But what could you do? Confess? Well, it was the most obvious way to solve the problem, but you were unwilling to risk a life long friendship with him. Pathetic you were indeed.

The weekend rolled around the corner and you just had to face one demise after another. Jake and his family were coming over for dinner and there's zero chances for you to dodge him this time. Thank you, Universe, you thought sarcastically.

Your palms felt clammy and sweaty as you set up the table. Before this, your mother had specifically requested you to present yourself more formally instead of wearing your typical sweats, so now you were stuck in a black skin tight dress, just appropriate enough to not be deemed as slutty.

"They're here!" your mother announced, clapping her hands in excitement. You, on the other hand, were only filled with nothing but dread.

The door flew open and hugs were exchanged. Your mother squealed happily when she saw Jake and for a moment, you were about to do the same.

His hair was slicked back, only a strand was left hanging in front of his face. He was wearing a formal black suit paired alongside a simple black tie. He was about to be the death of you. 

"Y/N." He nodded at you, lips pressed in a straight line.

"Jake." You replied back, hands kept behind your back, trying to conceal the fact that you were actually fidgeting.

"You kids are matching!" Mrs Sim pointed out, laughing delightfully.

You felt Jake's eyes on your body for a tense moment, sensing them scanning you from top to bottom. You met his gaze once he finished checking you out so blatantly, and all he did was smile at you innocently. Jerk. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Why don't you kids go hang out yourselves?" Your mother patted your arm. 

"Sure," Jake shrugged, smoothing out the fronts of his blazer.

"Great!" Your mother beamed, then leaned down to whisper to you. "Don't do anything weird, okay?"

You grimaced. "Ew." Must your own mother put the mental image of you doing something 'weird' with Jake into your mind?

You turned around, practically dashing up the stairs towards your room. And as always, Jake followed you like a lost puppy. Once he shut the door to your room, he faced you with a blank expression, devoid of any signs of what he's about to say.

"So? Are you going to explain why you were ignoring me?" Jake leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets as he stared at you, unimpressed.

"What if I don't?" you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I'll force it out of you somehow, you know I always get my way," he replied nonchalantly and you only rolled your eyes at him, knowing how he wasn't completely wrong.

Jake seemed to have noticed your silence and decided to break the ice first. "I remembered that night, Y/N. You can't hide away from me forever just because of what you said."

You groaned, burying your face into your hands, completely flushed with embarrassment. "Must you remind me?"

"How can I forget about it when my best friend literally told me she loves me?" He kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his. "Can't you just tell me how you feel? It's been days and nights since I felt at peace after what you'd said to me. What's worse is that I couldn't even remember it precisely. So please, just make it clear."

"Fine. Jake, I–"

"Y/N!"

You wished you could blow up right this instance. Out of every second, every minute, your mother just had to call you when you were about to come clean about your feelings. If you could, you would've liked to reach for the nearest pillow and scream into it.

"Well … next time, Jakey boy. Dinner calls!"

Before Jake could respond, you exited your room quickly, ignoring your thumping heart as you replayed everything in your mind. 

Dinner was awkward.

Parents asking about each other's kids' situations and having deep conversations about life while Jake and you, on the other hand, were avoiding each other's gazes. Not ready to face whatever that had just happened.

You thought your torment was finally over when dinner ended and you found yourself dipping your legs by the pool when Jake silently joined your side, following your actions.

"You okay?"

You turned to look at him, kicking your legs slightly, you felt your shoulder brushing against his, thighs touching. "I'm fine. Just a little tired. Why?"

"Nothing. It was just that you were barely speaking all dinner and I got concerned," Jake pointed out and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Everything's … complicated these days," you said. 

At your words, Jake shifted a little. He knew what your "complicated" meant, it was about you and him. 

"What even are we?" Jake spluttered out and you froze beside him, the water temperature suddenly dropping to 0 degrees. 

"You really want to talk about that now?" You mumbled, frowning.

"Then when can we even face it? I'm tired of you running away and me being in the dark," Jake argued, turning his body to face you.

"Jake …" you were rendered speechless, your body still, guilt clawing its way into your system. "I just don't think I'm ready yet, okay?"

Jake seemed frustrated at your comment. "Y/N–"

"JAKE!" 

It was his mother calling out for him and you heard him swearing under his breath. "Next time, Y/N. I'll wait for you."

With that, he left, leaving you completely dazed. He'll wait? 

"Can you please come? They literally have a pool!"

Thursday night you found yourself at peace knowing nothing will ruin your weekend, until Jay's phone call. Being the party goer he was, he's now trying to convince you to tag along to some guy's party.

"What if I said no?" 

"I don't take 'no' as an answer,"

"Tough luck, champ," 

"Come on, Y/N," Jay whined. "Everyone is going. I mean, Jake is, and that cute guy you mentioned from school — Heeseung — was it? He's there too. You can shoot your shot!"

You thought about it for a moment as you cursed Jay for being way too convincing. "Fine. Since you asked so nicely."

"I know I could always count on you."

Safe to say the party was going considerably well and you weren't about to leave just after arriving for only a solid 15 minutes. Jay remained by yourself for the whole time, conversing with his own circle of friends while your eyes searched for a specific somebody among the sea of people. 

“I’ll go for a dance,” you nudged Jay, trying to get his attention.

“Be safe.” he simply said, but his words were filled with genuinity.

A couple cups of drinks definitely boosted your confidence as you shamelessly swayed your hips to the music playing in the background. The blinking lights blinded your sight, alcohol clouded your thoughts, unknowing to someone sliding close to you. Thankfully, your sixth sense never failed and you turned to meet the gaze of Lee Heeseung.

“Hey,” he casually greeted.

“Hi,” you breathed out, sudden shyness taking over.

“Wanna dance?” he offered and you nodded meekly. “Follow my lead,” he held onto your arms, circling them over his shoulder. 

“Is this okay?” Heeseung whispered and you nodded once more. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. The cute guy from school was in fact dancing with you. You let yourself let go as you closed your eyes and swayed along to the beat of the music. This was heaven. 

No matter how you tried to shake off that weird feeling, it never went away. You knew someone was staring at you, burning little holes into the back of your head intensely. You opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the startling lights and almost immediately, you locked gazes with him.

Lo and behold, Jake Sim, sitting across the room, his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed. He was clearly unhappy about whatever you were doing, and you loved the effect you had on him. 

You smiled innocently, leaning close to Heeseung's ear. "I'm going to take a break. See you at school?"

Heeseung grinned at you. "Sure thing. I had fun dancing with you."

"Likewise." 

Thankfully, you managed to waddle your way through the crowd alive and made your way out of the house for some fresh air. The atmosphere inside of the house was too heavy and the smell of sweat and cheap alcohol stuck in the air.

"Running away from me again?" 

A voice came from behind you and you knew who it was immediately.

"Not everything is about you, okay?" You grumbled, hugging your arms around your body for warmth as you sat down on the front steps.

Jake joined your side, placing his hands on his knees, glancing at you from time to time. “Care to explain why you’re actively avoiding me?”

“I’m not,”

“Liar.”

You remained silent, not knowing what to say next. 

“You were dancing real close to Heeseung tonight,” he pointed out.

“Great observation, Sherlock,” you finally dared to turn to look at him. “Can we head back in? I’m craving for a drink,”

Jake only nodded soundlessly, following your movements as you stood up to head back in. You felt bad, guilty even, at the way you’re acting towards your lifelong best friend, but you couldn’t help it, your emotions were basically choking you hard. You tugged on Jake’s shirt, ready to say something.

“Jake—” Just when you two entered, Jake was pulled away, not even sparing a second for you to process, so now you were alone.

 “Great,” you mumbled unhappily under your breath, making your way to the drinks in the kitchen. Maybe they’ll console you instead. You genuinely wondered who’d cursed you countlessly whenever you were trying to confront Jake. 

To your dismay, the kitchen was filled with drunk teenagers who were all busy mixing their new anecdote for the night. Plan B, not the kitchen. 

You left for the living room instead, grumbling in annoyance since you couldn't get a drink. As you were about to turn a corner, you heard voices, very familiar ones and immediately halted your steps.

“You ditched Grace?” Park Sunghoon, the notorious figure skater who everyone was pining for, hissed.

Jake hummed.

“Is it because of Y/N?” Sunghoon asked, an undertone of suspicion laced in his voice.

"I don't like her like that," Jake murmured under his breath.

You froze. This couldn't be happening now, right? Out of any day, any place, it just had to be in a house, in the middle of an ongoing party. To be frank, you've already prepared yourself to face rejection every time you imagined confessing to Jake. But overhearing Jake's negative confession was surely not in your list.

"You're serious?" Sunghoon poked on.

"I don't know, man." Jake sighed in defeat. "Can we not talk about this now?"

You blinked away the confusing feelings you were currently having. Was it anger? Was it sadness? Was it hope? You couldn't tell. All you wanted was to be home, in your cosy bed.

There were many things you were afraid to do in life, such as talking to boys your age, socialising, confronting your crush and so on, but today, right now, you had zero regrets as you continued your steps, walking past Jake.

It was all white noises in your ears and blissful ignorance. Jake was calling after you, trying to reach you, but the crowd only ended up swallowing him whole. 

Once you were out of the house, you found yourself finally breathing again, suddenly thankful for the fresh air. But there's a rather unfortunate problem for you, Jake caught up with you.

"Y/N," he breathed.

"Fuck off," you snapped, an overwhelming wave of emotions clawing in your body.

"Listen to me, I didn't mean that," Jake's voice rose unintentionally.

"Yeah? So you're expecting me to be totally fine as if nothing happened?" You frowned. "Well, hi Jake, how was the party? Not good? Why-"

"Stop! Why are you even acting like this?" Jake grabbed ahold of your shoulders, making you stare directly at him as he could tell you were about to flee at any minute.

"Because–" You shrugged his hold away. "I like you, Jake! Ever since we were fifteen. But you were always so clueless to tell. And this summer, you were basically too hung up over Grace to spend time with me, then that night when you said those things to me, do you expect me to act oblivious after that? And today, you said those words … how am I supposed to know how you feel?"

You couldn't tell what Jake was thinking. He practically had a poker face on, seemingly trying to take in everything you've just said. "Y/N …"

"What do you want from me, Jake?"

Jake took a deep breath, his features ridden with frustration as he burst out.

"I want you. Okay? Happy now?"

To say you were stunned was clearly an understatement. You didn't know what to say or act, staring at him with your mouth ajar. 

"I–I have liked you since we were kids and I don't think I realised until this summer," Jake went on, clearly rambling in distress. "That's why I avoided you, Y/N. I was scared. I didn't know why I felt like that or what I should do. In the end, I figured it was you. It was always you, no matter what."

"Then have me, Jake."

"What?"

It was one of those moments where it felt entirely out of a movie. Jake could only stare at you wordlessly while you breathed heavily, a million thoughts running through your head and you’ve finally accepted it. 

Oh no, you’ve fallen in love.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you grumbled under your breath, taking his face into your hands and pulling him in for a kiss. 

When your lips touched, it felt as if countless emotions and unspoken words from over the years passed through like a connection. It felt right. Jake slid his hand around your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. This was absolute bliss. 

You put your hand on his wrist, pulling away gently, eyes not leaving one another for even a second. The two of you pant softly, trying to catch a breath from the kiss and you started to shy away, in disbelief that this actually happened. Jake noticed, smiling a little, leaning down to press a gentle peck against the side of your mouth.

“Wanna stay over at mine tonight? I can drive,”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Laying in his bed with the lights off accompanied by the whirring of the A/C played in the background, his arms wrapped around you, the beating of his heart against your back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, it was something familiar yet so new. 

You turned around to face him, watching as he rubbed his eyes, stirring awake slightly. It was still dark outside, but Jake couldn’t fall asleep, finding himself treasuring your presence instead. You were brushing loose strands of hair away from his face when a strange look appeared and he spoke, voice sluggish.

"You're my best friend."

Somehow, you understood what he meant and you knew what it was. He is in love.

—

[apollos-boyfriend]

translation + transcript of bagi and cellbit's (and roier's) conversation - 10/18/23

note: i am not a fluent spanish speaker. i can understand it pretty well, but there may still be some issues with the translation of some of roier’s lines! i apologize in advance. this conversation starts at 03:31:45 of cellbit's vod, and goes until he teleports away from the two. (additional note: CB = census bureau)

R: Hello? Bagi?

B: Hello!

R: Hi Bagi, how are you?

B: Hi, Roier-in-law!

R: This is your house, right? This is your house. Hello, Bagi-in-law, how are you?

B: (laughing) I’m good, I’m good. How are you? R: I’m good! Very good. Bagi, can you follow me up to the second floor? There’s something I want to talk with you about. C’mon, up we go.

B: (crosstalk) Of course, of course.

R: Up, up. Up. In your room. 

C: What’s up?

B: (as Roier punches her in) Ouch, ouch! (laughs) Hi. 

C: What’s up?

B: Did you see how hard he hit me?

C: Yeah. Uh. How are you?

B: A little sad, to be honest. (pause) And you? How are you?

C: Tired. Uh, a lot’s been happening in such a short period of time, you know? Even before you got here. A lot of stuff. Uh. It’s comforting, being in here.

B: Yeah, it’s always been a really comforting place, actually. 

C: Do you remember everything?

B: I remember a few things. Things that someone helped me recall. I remember that we were really happy here. I remember that we did everything together. We were never apart, ever. And I remember that one day you disappeared. You vanished, you were kidnapped. We called the cops, but . . . after a few days, they stopped investigating your disappearance. And . . . they weren’t really keen on investigating. We really did live on this island, and there was this whole thing our parents always said about how this is the safest and most perfect place, but I started questioning that when you disappeared. 

C: I don’t remember any of that. And . . . despite being able to look at you and see my own face, I really don’t remember you. (pause) But . . . I know that the 15 years of pain that I went through . . . don’t negate the 15 years of your pain. 

B: I spoke a little bit with Badboyhalo yesterday about some things that you went through. I didn’t know things were so bad. I’m sorry. I just knew of the prison because I started investigating your case when I got a little older. I-I-I joined the police, after a while. We came to an agreement. And I was investigating your case, and I followed you for a few years. (raising voice) But when I finally reached the prison, you escaped from it! And . . . and then I spent a few more years looking for you after that, too, until I got here, somehow. 

C: Uh. I can’t feel anything but emptiness when we talk about this. And this island . . . it took away everything I had within me. And it gave me some of my most important things, too. When I got here, I was just an empty husk trying to find a purpose. And now I look to the future, and I see the person who saved me (looks to Roier), and the person who spent her entire life trying to save me (looks to Bagi). (pause) All that’s missing . . . is one. All that’s left is getting my son back. I’m tired-I’m tired of all of this. I-ever since I got here, I just wanted to leave. I just wanted freedom. But now . . . I just want my family. And I want a future. I don’t know what’s going to happen after what I did yesterday, after what we did yesterday, and I don’t think that I’m going to get away without facing consequences. But . . . I need to rest. And . . . 

R: Hi? We’re in a family meeting. Continue, continue. 

B: (laughs)

C: Who-

R: No, we’re busy, we’re-

CB: Good morning. What are you doing?

R: Ooh!

B: Jesus!

R: (screaming) What?

B: (shocked) You speak Portuguese now? Since when?

C: (reading) I need you to-uh. I need to go. 

R: No fucking way, man.

B: Well, we can continue this conversation later. I’m just really happy that you came to talk to me because I was feeling completely shattered.

C: Well.

CB: Enjoy the island!

B: No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way.

R: Don’t follow him, don’t follow him, don’t follow him, no.

B: Um. I know that you have your own stuff to do, but . . . whenever you want to talk, I literally spent my whole life waiting for this. I don’t mind waiting a few more days.

C: Okay. I’m . . . so tired. 

R: Do you want to go to bed?

C: I need to rest. But I need to . . . see what’s going to happen with this. Uh, I’ll see you guys when I wake up.

B: It’s okay. It’s okay.

R: Okay.

C: Take care of yourselves, okay?

R: Where are you going? To your castle?

C: I-I hope so. 

R: What do you mean, you hope so?

C: I need to go to the Federation offices.

R: You’re really going?

B: (crosstalk) Watch out for-watch out for that piece of shit bear, okay?

R: You’re really going?

C: I thought this would happen. Uh-

R: Well, kids, I’m very happy to see you fixing your relationship. I’m very happy that you’ve remembered you’re twins and that you’re together, okay? Because nothing will separate you two again. It’s nice that you’re together again. Okay? Don’t abandon each other, okay? Even if something happens, nothing’s going to tear you apart, okay?

C: Thank you, guapito. 

B: Thank you, guapito-no, no, not guapito 

R: (laughs)

C: No, no, it’s a nickname, you can use it, you can use it, it’s a nickname-

B: (crosstalk) Roier-in-law! He’s my Roier-in-law.

R: Roier-in-law, Roier-in-law. And my Bagi-in-law. Okay.

B: Roier-in-law, thank you so much.

R: Nah, nah, it was nothing. 

B: You’re the best in-law I’ve ever had! And the only one, actually. 

R: Obviously, obviously. You’re also the only one [I’ve had].

C: And . . . protect her, okay?

R: Okay, yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, and-

B: (interrupting) Hey! I don’t need to be protected! But if you disappear, you know that I’ll find you again, right?

C: (crosstalk) I just need to-

R: (crosstalk) Cellbit, if anything happens, send me-send me a message, okay?

C: Of course. I will. 

R: Okay, goodbye. Good luck!

C: Thank you.

[thebest-medicine]

Sorry in advance for the long question 😅

I’m not sure who to tell this to, but I figured that you (or this community, rather) are the only ones who would kind of understand and possibly give me some advice, so here we go:

So I recently went to a gathering at my friend’s house. There were 5 of us there (not including me). None of them know about my thing for tickling. However, I had told one of them that I was ticklish a while an ago (that was very hard to do lol), but nothing more than that had ever occurred that involved tickling up to this point.

When it comes to social gatherings (and just my personality in general lol), I can be a bit shy and introverted. This sometimes results in me secluding myself from the group for short amounts of time. Sometimes when I do this my friends like to come find me and drag me back in to their shenanigans. This time one of my friends (the one that I told that I was ticklish) managed to sneak up on me to get me to join the group again. While I was lying on the couch, flat on my back with my arms above my head, she rushes toward me and, to my surprise, says that she’ll tickle me if I don’t come back and join everyone.

So, naturally, I don’t comply so I can get tickles 😉

Since I was stretched out on the couch, my shirt had risen up a bit to reveal my lower stomach (I didn’t notice this until she started tickling though), creating a seemingly perfect opportunity for tickling. As I braced myself for the oncoming attack, I was very happy for a moment. I hadn’t been tickled in years!

But then that happiness quickly vanished as I realized that…

I wasn’t laughing.

The tickles didn’t tickle me 😞. I was as shocked as my friend.

“I thought you were ticklish” she said.

And I did too. I used to be. How could my ticklishness just have disappeared over a couple years?

My friend continued to try to get me to react for a little bit more time, but the most she got was a small smile and eventually became disinterested.

So yeah. I’m a bit depressed now. I was finally gonna get tickled for the first time in years, but it turns out I’m not ticklish at all anymore.

Have you (or anyone you have known) ever went through a time period where you were less ticklish or barely ticklish at all? Has anyone you know become permanently not ticklish even though they used to be ticklish?

Also, this might be a bit of a dumb question, but are there any ways to increase your own ticklishness? I’m just kinda sad that I might never experience it again 😖😭

Im sorry that it didn’t go as expected / wanted!

I think ticklishness can definitely depend on a lot of things in a situation, there’s lots of stuff lers tend to do to make lees feel more ticklish / sensitive / vulnerable in sessions and it can definitely vary person to person. It can also definitely change over time and depending on who is tickling you..

Thanks for sharing, I’m working now so I can’t go into too much depth but I’d love to open this up to what others have to say and their own experiences! Hope you get to feel much more tickly in the future!

[superwingscentral]

Pirate AU Masterpost (AU name pending)

since im a person who like to make aus that does not fit with the canon at all, im gonna go all batshit with this one lets go. i havent made proper aus in a long time hhhh

my english went scrawny all over in some places so im sorry for that :'D this post is also extremely messy so buckle up yall

They're gonna be humans in this AU, because I have no idea how to incorporate planes in a setting like this. (also i think it may or may not fit since 'advanced tech'...does not really exist. it isn't set during old times though, it doesn't have a clear time period because it isn't set in our earth.)

The characters don't have clear designs, but FYI, I'm personally going to use my own gijinka designs for visuals like 'screenshot redraws' in this.

Anyway...if you have questions or suggestions, you can ask away! (they help a lot to build my art/stories geniunely + also i think this post is all over the place oh god)

Some parts were inspired from the suggestions given by @stormvanari , ty so much!!!✨️✨️

■■■

This world is filled with islands, but without a clear bridge between them. So the only and the safest way of transportation is with, well, ships. This includes supplies too.

Pist, one of the small islands, took charge of transferring supplies to the other islands due to its location, under the name of "World Delivery". "WD" in short. (the reason for that is the amount of way to the other islands are pretty much same. Although visitors are not really common in the island, even if it's in the center of the whole ocean. It's not a touristic place. People prefer going to Gire, or Dimdi.)

Jimbo-Sky-Storm are 3 of the residents in Pist, and they are in the charge of this delivering organization. Jimbo is the head of it, Sky and Storm are second-hands.

A client sends a letter to WD about what they want, and boom. If there are smaller orders, they'll be sent by small ships. If the order clashes with a supply delivery, it'll be sent with a big delivery ship. Still fast. (residents of pist usually go to there themselves to order. its close)

There is a factory in Pist to produce the supplies (although rumors say the trio uses an extra deal to make their delivery items because there are almost no workers in the factory...)

Storm manages the factory, Sky is in the charge of managing the delivery ships.

There are many ships that work directly for World Delivery HQ (most of them being Pist residents), but there are freelancer ships that come to help them from time to time.

(I divided them in a quite strange way honestly, because I didn't want to seperate the s1 quartet or some 'squads' sorry xP Also FYI: there are many ships. So they don't only consist SW characters. Think of them as...extras? yeah that. i wanna make them go on a long trip once and i dont wanna put wd out of business)

●●●●

The main ships in the AU (not all of them work in Pist but when they pass by they do work for them sometimes. i was gonna put them all under the same workplace but then scrapped that)

Speedy (they're still working on the name. the other three teases the hell out of jett because of this): Consists of only Jett, Dizzy, Donnie, Jerome. Smallest ship with a crew of only 4 people. They reside in Pist, and they're the only ship out of all the SW ships that is actively working for WD.

(well, except for the time they all suddenly disappeared one day on a journey. Turns out they sneaked out.)

Neptune: Mira, Bello, Swampy, Wily, Sparky, Neo. They never stay on islands, instead they live in their ship. It's bigger than Jett's, so it has extra rooms for other things like a greenroom. Speaking of, the crew has a reputation of making herbs and medicines due to their master use of plants (thanks to the captain and her first mate.) They pass Pist by all the time, and help them deliver things, mainly medicine.

Goldstar: Paul, Kim, Badge, and numerous other officers. They're a security ship, and Blackbird is number 1 on their hit list. They're usually sent by Miz, to catch thieves and sometimes to hunt monsters. (But the crew of Goldstar has no idea about what Miz is doing after they hand over the criminals or the monsters, because they're constantly on missions.)

Although their beef with Blackbird's captain is a personal case, not Miz's (mostly for Paul).

Loyalty: Grand Albert's restored historical ship. He travels between islands, along with his students (the top student being Narae) He used to be a famous adventurer that fought thieves who stole artifacts and returned them to their homeland, but now he retired and in prefarence of a slow, peaceful life. He's now sailing a ship-library and is open to visitors. Somehow pirates don't get too close to him.

He also has a granddaughter named Ellie (who is also his student) but she left due to her wish to sail to adventure with her own friends.

Galacti: The most mysterious ship possible. Nothing much is known about them, except for one thing: They're seen during the night. Their morals and goals are also unknown. They're also known as the ones who only know the safe ways to the North. And they home several magical artifacts: ancient spell books, weapons, mystic plants, etc. All of them are wanted by Miz, especially the captain.

Blackbird: The most notorious ship, with the crew of ruthless thieves. They love to mess with the other ships, they ambush the delivery ships while on their way, steal their goods, and scatter the 'useless' ones to the ocean for ships to crash on and sink.

Rumor say the captain Phantom used to navigate a security ship, and people wonder what led him down this path.

No one knows which islands are the crew is from, but they know for a fact that they can sail to the waters in South effortlessly. (The waters in South are also violent, so majority of security ships sunk in hopes of investigate the island.)

●●●

Tech is a bit weird in this AU. It does not exist, but it does at the same time. Phones, internet, or holograms, those stuff doesn't exist, for example.

There's a thing. It's not a common thing, it's a rumor in some islands, it's forbidden to use or even speak of it in some islands–

It's magic. Yep.

Big islands like Miz forbid anyone to ever talk about. Ironically, the most powerful professional magic user is from Miz.

Small islands like Pist though, it's mostly a rumor in there.

Anyway, the magic in this AU mostly relies on spells. Only some certain people can do it. For example, rumor say the mysterious ship Galacti can use magic effortlessly (especially the captain). But the island of Miz, the island the captain is from, can't catch them because the ship is literally invisible.

There's also another type of magic. It's not like a 'wizard-y' type, or done with spells. It affects the physical appearence, like 'monsters'.

Sea creatures are the only known 'monsters' at the moment but there are some research for other possible 'monsters' alive.

There are 3 different sea 'monsters' rn:

The 1st type: Your good ol' cliche sea creatures. They live underwater all the time, cannot go up to surface. Some of them look like a giant squid but some of them have humanoid appearence (like sirens). They're the most common.

The 2nd is: Luca-style. They appear as humans when dry. One of the main ship captains is this. No wonder she rescues people so swiftly from the water? Also the new lackey in Blackbird too, but with the addition of a siren voice.

The third type is a curse that turns the person into a fish, then a bubble. They start to appear as scales under eyes, then ears start to look like fins. At the end of two days they will turn into a full fish, then foam (curse you little mermaid /j). It has a solution though, but it can only be found in the north side of the ocean. Sadly, most people who got cursed end up meeting their demise because the North is even harder to reach than South. The ones who do would still have some side effects like: constant need for hydration and the transformation into a mer-person when dove into water.

(this is completely inspired by that one episode where jett and jerome turn into mer...planes???)

〔 There is also another type of magic, but not a third-type. Instead it's a sub-category, because this one also relies on spells. But instead of performing with bare hands, an object like a wand is needed. 〕

●●●

That's all! For now. I didn't write character introductions, because i didn't know where to put them in (alao the post would be way too long + i haven't written all of them yet.)

Idk if I write a fic based on this. Maybe I'll write snippets?

When I make the outfits, I'll maybe draw 'fake' screenshots?

[maximumcheese]

Cards - The Rose and the Lost Child 3

Hiiro: (I grabbed a white thing in the gap of the hedge!)

(If I extend my hand like this, surely I can catch it!)

Woah, there, there.

…Huh?

(Nothing was there? Then what in the world was that thing that grazed my outstretched finger just then?)

A white rose’s—branch?

……

I wonder if the strong winds have broken the flowers, even though they are blooming so beautifully. It looks like the flowers are damaged, too, I wonder why…

—Ah, it could have been that. The sound I was hearing could have been branches rolling in the wind.

It’s broken in a fairly thick place… It’s no wonder that awfully loud sound was drawing closer.

I thought it was a rabbit or a bird when I caught a glimpse of it through the gap. It wasn’t even a living thing.

I’ll put it in the corner so it won't roll away again. Sorry to frighten you, Mayoi-senpai.

Mayoi-senpai?

(He’s gone…)

(I guess. I must have gotten lost when I dove into the gap in the hedge.)

He~y, Mayoi-senpai?

…No reply. That’s strange, I don’t think I’ve wandered too far away.

Or have I stepped into some kind of maze that Mayoi-senpai had mentioned earlier? Which direction can I go to meet up with him?

Yeah…

Ah, should I give him a call? He’s probably worried about me, because of my sudden disappearance.

As long as you have a smartphone, you can get in touch with someone who is faraway. The advancement of civilization is amazing, huh…♪

Open HallHands and go to….Uh. Hmmm?

(The title of this message is sparkling…Which means this is a Glitter Mail, isn’t it? What in the world could this message be?)

(...It’s from Tenshouin-senpai?)

Uhmm… “Which would you like to hear first, the good news or the bad news?”

(That’s it? I don’t even know what he’s trying to tell me. I’ve heard this line somewhere, but this just sounds like a practical joke.)

(However. The fact that he went to the trouble of contacting me through a function that only the leader of each unit can use, rather than a personal communication means…)

(This message probably means something regarding…)

!

—Hello?

Eichi: “Hi there, good afternoon. Thanks for opening my message ♪”

Hiiro: ? How did you know I saw your message?

Eichi: “I set it up so that I’d get read receipts. And if you opened it, that means you now have a smartphone in your hand.”

“Do you have a few minutes to chat now?”

Hiiro: I have time, but…I’d appreciate it if you got this over with as quickly as possible.

I’ve been separated from my companions, and because I’m sure I’m making them worry, I’d like to meet up with them as soon as possible.

Eichi: “Oya, a missing child? Well, I don’t want to spend too much time giving you a choice, so I’ll start with the good news.”

“...The truth is, these days, the readings I got from my periodic medical check-up were unusually good ♪”

Hiiro: Medical check-up?

Eichi: “Since last month I was disappointedly hospitalized, inside I was deathly afraid of coming out with bad numbers.”

“I’m relieved to hear that it didn't turn out that way. The doctor said there was no problem, and I will have the energy to carry out various activities from now on.”

Hiiro: …Hm. For now, I’ll say congrats, but this talk is really none of my concern, is it?

Since you went through all the trouble of sending me a message, I figured the topic had something to do with me.

Eichi: “Well I think it’s good news for you, too.”

“Because if I don't have to be away from the office, it means I can prevent things from happening out of my sight.”

“For example…Regarding the decisions made by the upper management of Starpro, other than myself.”

“Things like avoiding a unit being reconstructed or dismantled.”

Hiiro: That’s—

Eichi: “...Let’s talk about the bad news from here. As you requested, Hiiro-kun, let’s keep this short.”

“It’s been a few days since I asked my question. Have you found any answers?”

Hiiro: …Not yet. No, not yet. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, but I haven’t been able to come up with an answer.

I can’t manage to come up with an answer that would satisfy Tenshouin-senpai, let alone an answer that I would be satisfied with.

The more I ruminate about what you said….The more it appears that I miss the mark, and I return to my starting place.

Eichi: “Hm, so you’re lost in your thoughts, as well. Well, I was looking to change my roundabout way of doing things, so I gave you a call.”

“While I’m waiting for you to answer, I don’t want upper management to make things worse. As it’d be more troublesome if they take action,  I’ll give you a hint.”

Hiiro: A hint…

Eichi: “A few days ago, you had a conversation with the staff at Starpro, didn’t you? Regarding Alkaloid from here on out.”

Hiiro: Yes. They asked me what kind of work I’d like to do…I told them I didn’t have anything particular in mind.

I didn’t think of this at the time, but because I also felt that because my experience as an idol was inadequate, I was not in a position to express my wishes. 

Of course I feel that I want to do all sorts of things with everyone in Alkaloid but…

As Mayoi-senpai said, I wonder if working hard at whatever job gets thrown at us is the best we can do for now.

Eichi: “...So Hiiro-kun, if I am listening what you’re saying correctly, while I understand this humble remark is typical of new idols—”

“What celebrities say can always be whittled down, taken out of context, and passed down with an implication you didn’t mean.”

Hiiro: ?

Eichi: “Suppose someone asked about your work from here on out, and they heard by chance  ‘I have no particular wishes’ as the reply.”

“You had become the protagonists of the summer, and just when it looks like you're about to take off...”

“Those words would be as if to say that you are an idol with no ambition, without aspirations. So that's exactly how you'll be received ♪”

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[writing-the-stars]

New Girl Pt. 2

Part 1

Pairing: Rebekah x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your feelings for Rebekah continue to grow, but complications get in the way. 

Warnings: Angst, Underage Drinking, Excessive Drinking. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: You asked, I delivered. Here is part two of New Girl. Sorry for the long wait, but I am officially out of school now so I should be posting more frequently. Thank you for reading and please send in requests!

Masterlist

Anxiously you warm-up for cheer practice, your mind miles away from what you’re actually doing, as you await Rebekah’s arrival. It’s not that you are against her joining practice today– part of you wants her to show up. Despite the short period of time, you have become captivated by the goddess-like woman, feeling special underneath all the attention she has shown you. You want to spend as much time with her as possible– never wanting that feeling to disappear, but that’s the problem. Rebekah throws you off your game, turning you into a blubbering mess of idiocy– and that’s the part of you that doesn’t want her here. You feel like a silly schoolgirl around her and you don't like it.

"Has anybody seen Dana?" Chelsea asks from her position in front of the squad, causing you to realize you haven't seen her since last night at Senior Prank Night. Maybe she did what you wanted to do and skipped out on school to catch up on sleep. If you had, you wouldn’t be in the position you are in now, toiling over these newfound conflicting and confusing feelings for the new girl. 

"Sounds like you have an opening on the squad," Rebekah’s accented voice says, infiltrating your thoughts and spiking your anxiety. You look over at her, in awe of her effortless beauty as she walks to fill in the space between you and Caroline. Even in a tank top and shorts, the gorgeous blonde managed to look radiant. She sends you another dazzling smile, your breath hitching and your heart skips a beat. A blush creeps up your cheeks at all of these novel emotions. No girl has ever made you feel this way before and it scares you. 

A cheeky grin draws across Rebekah’s lips as she notices you checking her out, considering her mission accomplished. She intentionally put on the tightest tank and shortest shorts she could find in hopes to draw this exact reaction from you when she arrived to practice. Wanting to continue her fun and tease you, she swiftly bends over to show off more of her ass but is interrupted too soon by Caroline– who you perceive to be threatening Rebekah for her advances on Tyler.

A pout sits on your lips as you watch Rebekah glance over at Tyler, running across the field, no doubt checking the athlete out. You shake your head with a sigh, feeling silly for even briefly entertaining the idea of you and Rebekah together. Tyler is a jock, in all senses of the word– wealthy, attractive, popular, and given way too many undeserved privileges. Of course, Rebekah would like a guy like him, all pretty girls do, he's exactly her type and she is his. Your heart aches for the blonde as your mind conjures up images of her and Tyler together. Tyler is aggressive and arrogant, treating women as if they are his to command. You remember how he treated Vicki Donovan before her tragic passing and the thought of him behaving in that same manner toward Rebekah angered you. However, it’s not like you can do anything to stop it and, as you are starting to learn, the heart wants what it wants.

Thanks to the aforementioned jock’s hostile behavior, Coach blows the whistle early, dismissing you all from practicing– relief flooding through you. As much as you love cheerleading, the bonfire is tonight and all you want to do is get drunk and forget all your teenage woes. You walk over to the rest of the squad who are already surrounding Rebekah with a hundred questions. 

The question of Rebekah’s talent came up, causing Jasmine, one of the cheerleaders, to put her on spot, "Well, alright new girl. Show us what you got." A wicked grin creeps up Rebekah’s lips as she drops her bag and walks over to an empty spot on the field. "Come on, Rebekah. You've got this!" Chelsea shouts from beside you, already having an immense amount of faith in Rebekah’s skill set.

You watch Rebekah in admiration as she runs down the football field, going into an aerial before continuing into a front walkover, and finally landing in a split. You cheer loudly along with the rest of the squad for her impressive combo, but feel your excitement dwindle as Rebekah turns her head to look back at Tyler and Caroline– realizing she was trying to impress him.

All the glee that you felt before dissipates, being replaced with a heavy weight. No longer wanting to hang with the rest of the squad, you send Chelsea a quick goodbye, telling her that you will meet her at the bonfire. 

Rebekah turns her smug look from Caroline— satisfied she has proven how easily she can replace the 17-year-old vampire— to the lauds of her new cheer squad. With a prideful grin on her face, Rebekah scans the crowd of athletes that have gathered around her, disappointed in her inability to find you amongst the giddy teenagers. The praise now seems insignificant to her as it is not coming from you.

You quickly down your cup of beer, disgusted by the warm liquid as the party rages on. It’s definitely not your preferred beverage, but since it was the only alcohol being offered, you will tolerate it. “Y/N,” Kristen shouts over the music, grabbing your attention and leading you in her direction. “I love this song,” Chelsea shouts, clearly inebriated as she sways to the beat. You laugh at her drunken attempt at dancing but join in anyway– wanting to feel as carefree as possible. 

Of course, you do not get your way as the universe would have it. “How was practice?” Kristen asks, reminding you of Rebekah’s flirty behavior. A bitterness rises in you at the fact that the behavior was not directed towards you. ”It was awesome! Rebekah is amazing, we are so lucky to have her on the team,” Chelsea chimes in– completely in awe of the blonde girl. As much as you wanted to deny Chelsea’s claim, you knew she was absolutely right. Rebekah is an excellent addition to the team, her athletic prowess definitely elevating the squad’s skillset. The cheer squad is completely lucky to have her– you just wish it didn’t have to be at the expense of your developing feelings for the blonde beauty.

“Can we not talk about Rebekah for, like, five minutes,” you ask your friends, not wanting to be reminded of the complicated feelings stirring in you. “I thought you liked Rebekah,” Kristen questions your sudden shift of attitude towards the girl. “I do,” a little too much, “but that doesn’t mean we have to talk about her in every conversation,” you tell her, hoping the hostility is not too noticeable in your tone. 

You are mature enough to admit that you are jealous of Tyler Lockwood and upset that Rebekah is not as drawn to you as you are to her. But you are also petty enough to channel these emotions into being upset with Rebekah rather than handling them maturely.

The pool of despair growing inside of you deepens as you look over at Rebekah, finding her talking at the beer keg with Stefan Salvatore. Rebekah was unlike any girl you had met– her Elysian beauty and surpassing allure making it rather impossible not to be smitten with her. It was only a matter of time before she found her way atop the social hierarchy of Mystic Falls High School, leaving you behind somewhere in the middle. You knew that any kind of relationship between the two of you was pure fantasy, but you had to admit the dream was nice while it lasted. "I'm gonna get some more beer," you tell your friends, knowing that by the time you leave here tonight, you are going to be blacked out drunk. 

The party rages on and you find yourself drinking cup after cup, dancing and mingling with the other bonfire attendees, having the time of your life. "Y/N, come here," someone shouts at you, drawing your body to them– your mind long gone in the alcohol. "Have some," they encourage– your mouth opening to try whatever they're feeding you. A moan escapes your lips at the delicious combination of chocolate, marshmallow, and graham cracker melting in your mouth. “This is so good,” you talk through the mass of the campfire treat– eyes closing to savor the taste. You lick the remaining residue off your lips, enjoying the euphoria your drunken state has brought this simple food. 

Rebekah watches you from a bench– isolated from the rest of the party– a sadness pooling in her. She tosses another blackened marshmallow, not understanding the appeal as it tastes bitter to her, wishing she was the one feeding you instead. She came to the bonfire tonight hoping to find you; however, when she did, you were grinding against someone else– quickly ruining the party for her. A humorless laugh leaves her lips at the irony of the situation. She is a 1,000-year-old vampire who could effortlessly get anyone she wanted, yet here she is pining after a 17-year-old human who is having the time of her life with the imbeciles of the football team. 

She knows it’s reckless– the way she feels for you. But whenever she talks to you, she is reminded of the human life she so desperately desires and it is addicting. Placing another marshmallow on the stick in her hands, she contemplates if it would be wise to allow herself to get involved with you. After all, she is an Original Vampire with several complications– the most pressing ones being her overbearing brother who continues to rob her of love, and her murderous father who has been hunting her and her siblings for the last millennium. It would be selfish of her, to bring you into this life, and for once Rebekah wants to do something selfless, something to bring back her humanity. So, she lets you go, opting to play with Klaus’s new hybrid to distract her from her woe.

Part 3???

Taglist: @padmeswife​ @lucciolaraven​

[redrobin-detective]

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

[theeslytherinslut]

The Perpetual Freak (1/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader

Warnings: Mention of bullying,

Word Count: 2,063

The Beginning

“Twitch,

Just 4 days now--like I need to tell you, likely been counting down the days all bloody Holiday, haven’t you? We’ll be there Sept 1st at 10 on the dot, we should make it to King’s Cross by 11 that way. Be ready this time, won’t you? I think Padfoot just might actually hex your grandmother if he has to make small talk with her again, but can you blame him? Anyway, we’ll be there at 10. Don’t forget Jinx this time. I don’t fancy being attacked once he breaks out of your grandmother’s house.

P.S Sirius said he’ll be on his best behavior--does that make you nervous too?

See you soon,

Prongs (& Padfoot)

The letter lay in the same spot on your cracked cherrywood desk since you received it. Though short and to the point, you’d reread it many times, hoping somehow the more you read it, the faster the day would come.

Holidays were hell. Being a muggle-born, there was always a bit of an adjustment period after coming home from Hogwarts for a break--an adjustment period usually aided by parents and family--however, this could not have been further from the truth for you.

“Y/N!” As if on cue, your Grandmother's angry call shot up the stairs. Cringing, you held your breath as you walked down the stairs into the kitchen. She stood with her blue gingham apron covered in flour, as well as most of the floor and countertop.

“If this bloody bird scratches my window one-more-time,” she said the words through clenched teeth, glaring at you from across the room. Her stacked icy grey curls bobbled on her head as she shouted, her fist pressed against her hip. “I’ll have to drown it in the creek.”

Your Snowy Owl, Jinx, sat outside the baby-blue curtained window, his big orange eyes peering at you innocently through the glass.

Piecing together the situation, you’d guessed Jinx had arrived suddenly during your grandmother’s baking and had startled her, causing her to spill much of the contents of her bowl.

Suppressing a smile at the mess, you walked over to the window and opened it. Jinx’s peppered wings stretched out briefly before you felt his talons brush against your collarbone, and he perched onto your shoulder.

“Sorry, Grandmother,” you mumbled, catching your cousin smirking at you. A blush of anger lit up your face, and you made to disappear back into your room before anything got ugly; you’d gone all Holiday without a vicious row, and you weren’t about to start one just before you walked out the door.

“When does that school of yours start again, anyway? Aren’t you normally gone by now? Blakely’s school has already started, he’s been working so hard,” she doted, smoothing his hair as he ate his cereal, milk dribbling from his lips and onto the table. “We could all use a little peace and quiet around here, frankly.” she sniffed.

Jinx gave an annoyed hoot and ruffled his feathers unpleasantly as your grandmother glared at him from across the room.

“Train leaves September 1st at 11am like it always does. I’ll be leaving within the hour,” you said, struggling to control your voice.

“Train? There are enough of you--you, people, for an entire train?” Blakely said, dropping his spoon in his bowl, splattering more milk onto the table, evidently thoroughly shocked.

“Yes, oddly enough, it seems I’m not the only freak in England,” you said, using the word he often threw at you.

“Maybe not the only one, but definitely the biggest,” he said quietly, glaring up at you from his cereal. Grandmother, however, pretended as though she didn’t hear, merely clanged dishes loudly together as she turned back towards the sink.

“One day, I’ll hex you so terribly you’ll be lucky if someone calls you something so kind as freak,” you pushed the thought into his head and promptly stormed out of the kitchen, though savoring the terrified shock on his face.

“She-she did it again!” Blakely called, color draining his face. But you were already halfway up the staircase with Jinx balancing on your shoulder before her angry screech reached you.

You’d almost always been an utter freak in their eyes, and it all started when you were only a baby.

Your mother died while giving birth to you, and your father was never in the picture, so there was no one but your Grandmother to take you in; no one but you to blame for it all. You were, after all, the product of your mother’s insolence--having fallen pregnant at 15 by a man whom she’d never spoken of. And further, you were the reason she’d died; she wouldn’t have bled out if you hadn’t been conceived. To your Grandmother, it was as if you were the cause of every problem she had in life, a walking reminder of where it all went wrong--and she made sure you knew it.

Terrible as things already were, nothing was to be helped by the events that were to unfold. As the story had been told to you, you were a little over a year old, crying incessantly in your crib. You’d evidently been exceptionally whiny that day, crying non-stop, refusing to be consoled, and just when she’d for the first time seriously considered doing you in, you stopped. Relieved yet confused, your grandmother had come in to check on you.

“I’m hungry.”

She had heard the words clear as day, in a voice she didn’t recognize, but the words sounded funny. The voice almost echoed, somehow managing to sound crystal clear but miles away at the same time. Sure she was simply going mad from a lack of sleep, she stood rooted to her spot in shock.

“Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.”

Seeing your bright Y/E/C eyes boring up into hers, she let out an ear-splitting scream when you grinned as recognition dawned on her face.

Obviously, no Muggle doctor could give any sort of explanation or help. At most, they’d give one of the two of you some kind of a crazy pill and a suggestion of seeing a family counselor.

Soon after, tragedy struck your grandmother’s side once more, and you were landed with a cousin, Blakely. Blakely, however, seemed to adopt a mindset closer to your grandmother’s about it all and would no sooner take a shine to you than get friendly with the rabies-infected alley cat.

But as the years went on, things began to get even stranger.

At the age of 3, your wailing cries caused all the lightbulbs around you to pop inexplicably (costing your grandmother a fortune, as she so loved to remind you).

At 5, you’d managed to levitate a ball Blakely was taunting you with out of his hands and into yours.

However, at age 9 is when it became harder to keep a secret; at age 9 is when your grandmother began truly resenting you.

Being a self-ascribed ‘freak,’ bullying was something you were no stranger to. A comment here, a hair tug there. However, this had been a particularly extreme case. Kylie Kippely and her best friends had backed you into a corner, each shooting off snarky comments at your scared state, and when that wasn’t enough, they began throwing things--anything they could get their hands on--cans, papers, pencils, erasers. All the while yelling how everyone would be much better off without such a freak in their midst, about how all their parents were scared to even send them to school anymore after your last incident.

Then, they began running out of rubbish and started picking up rocks instead. Before a single rock could leave their hands, however, the mulch around you began to shake, then chips slowly started rising into the air behind them. As your face went from scared to full of awe, they turned around to see what you were looking at and simultaneously dropped everything in their hands. The mulch then began pelting at all of them, causing everyone around you to scream and disperse, all batting away the pieces of mulch pelting at their running backsides.

Grandmother had pulled you out of the school before you could receive any other punishment, and from that moment on, you’d been stuck in the house with her.

With no outlet, with nothing but growing rage and resentment inside of you, things began to spiral even worse.

Just when Grandmother began researching distant reform schools, however, you received your Hogwarts letter, and everything made sense.

All the strange things you could do, all the bizarre things you made happen, had an explanation. Sure the explanation was that you were, in fact, a freak--but you weren’t the only freak. There was a whole school’s worth of freaks just like you--well, almost just like you.

Though paper cranes soared around you and magic burst from the tip of hundreds of wands, through your time at Hogwarts, you found you did have one unique gift: it was evidently called Telepathic Impression, a branch of complex magic known as Legillimens--no one else could push thoughts into other people’s heads like you could, not naturally anyway. Nobody could ask a question silently and have the Professor answer for all to hear. After you’d interjected into McGonagall’s head during your first Transfiguration class, she’d had you go straight off to Dumbledore’s office. After a brief discussion, it was found you possessed natural Legilimency skills--something that had only been seen once before. He’d been absolutely transfixed when you told him the first instance had been at the ripe age of 1, in fluent advanced English no less.

You smiled fondly at the memory of his laugh of delight as you’d repeated, ‘Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.'

Never before had you told that story in any sort of positive light, never got a positive reaction either. Dumbledore had been absolutely enthralled with you from then on.

He had carefully explained the practice of Legilimency, how the mind was a layered thing and could not be ‘read’ simply, like a book. He’d explained how everyone learned it to some advantage of theirs, how no two Legilimens were the same.

After several years of private lessons, it seemed all you’d ever be able to do with your gift was push thoughts, images, and sounds of your own into other’s minds--but this was an incredible feat in itself, a private gift of yours. However, just the year before, it was found that with effort, you could twist the thought to become persuasive, convince the person the thought was their own, and to complete the idea you’d given them. During the first lesson which you found you could do so, you’d been practicing with Dumbledore. Though he was giving no effort at all to resist, you’d silently suggested his tea was abysmal and that he knock it off his desk in disgust. With a twitch of his wrist, the cup shattered onto the floor, shocking you both into silence. It was after this Dumbledore had insisted you promise to never use it for evil, never ever use it with ill intentions--for as a Legilimens himself, he would know. You quickly agreed, of course; you’d never once had the thought to use it with ill motives--aside from maybe having Blakely go for a nice long dip in the creek in the dead of January, but that was a fantasy you kept for yourself to get you through Holidays like these.

Shaking your head of past childhood memories, you turned to your trunk to make sure you did indeed have everything all packed up and ready. You didn’t want to stay a second longer than necessary.

Spotting your cloaks pushed into the depths of your closet, you plucked them from the dark and folded them into your trunk. It wasn’t a moment too soon either, because right as you closed the lid, you heard the boisterous arrival of your best friends as they pulled in the winding driveway driving the enchanted car James’ parents had lent him. You heard an enthusiastic barking whoop and smiled as Sirius’ bright eyes and smile filled your mind.

Your stomach bubbling with excitement, you hastily put Jinx in his cage as he looked around in interest. Picking up his cage, you bounded down the stairs to meet them.

[leadthemissing]

Update

/I kind of fell off of the internet, and wanted to give you guys an update on what’s been going on with me.

Long story short, I'm in the middle of a mental health journey. It was a sudden decision to the point that I forgot to say anything.

As of right now my activity on here will be jumpy, there might be times where i’m very active, OR there might be periods of time where I don’t post anything at all. 

If you ever really need to contact me your best bet is to message me through discord. (I am pretty much always logged in)

Under the read more there is an even longer version, but I will warn you. If topics about depression or mental health bother you, Please don’t read it.

(There is not any graphic details or anything though)

Some of you may or may not be aware, but I struggle with depression. I have for years, but never really talk about it. (It’s part of the reason I disappear every now and again)

For the most part I do pretty well with keeping it managed, but every now and again I do struggle with it. In most cases I can pick myself back up pretty quickly.

Except this year, I noticed my depression was affecting me more then usual. For a number of reasons. (but we won’t get into those)

A few months ago I decided it was time for me to really get a grip on my mental health, so I decided to unplug in order to start my own mental health journey. And it’s been a JOURNEY.

I don’t know WHEN I will be done, but I do know I want to slowly come back here.

Except my activity will be very sporadic. There are going to be days where I post a lot, and then there might be big chunks of time where I won’t post at all.

Which also means threads will probably be lost. (I’m sorry in advanced for this)

But that’s it that’s what’s been going on behind the scene.

LIke I stated above it might be easier to contact me through discord if you need me.

[dreamii-yume]

Hiya~ Can I request a sinfic featuring yan!riddle where he uses an aphrodisiac on his fem!darling? ^v^ thanks in advance if you every try to write this!

Tried to implement some Mommy kink for our Baby Riddle but meh...Yume didn’t quite get there lol I’m sorry~ I’ll do your mommy kink justice someday, Riddle!  {{ (>_<) }}

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎︎

It's petty, it goes against the rules, against every moral lesson he was taught, and as the older one, Riddle knew how immature this was of him. But he just loves you so much that it's only fair for you to feel the same thing, right? It's a completely valid reason! 

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Riddle was not one to show emotions to make himself feel and look vulnerable to others.

It doesn't matter if they're a close friend or anyone he's familiar with, he just thinks that it's unnecessary for him to do so. Especially after his overblotting incident, it's just his duty to do what's right and recognize his past mistakes. For the first time in so long, he was corrected, he was wrong in so many ways, and he whole-heartedly accepted that. It was a blessing that his own dorm ended up forgiving his tyranny, being able to celebrate another successful unbirthday party as if Riddle hadn't done anything wrong at all. He was lucky to have such understanding friends, but the fact that they forgave him this easily was the exact reason why he's so conflicted with such a massive amount of guilt.

They were so nice despite after everything, just too loyal and accepting that Riddle's heart aches just remembering that he once took advantage of that loyalty. The guilt still chains him up and it was suffocating, but he knew he must not show such emotions. It doesn't change the fact that he's the Dorm Leader, the current King of Heartslabyul, he shouldn't burden anyone with such trivial things such as guilt. They don't have to know, if this was the price for his past actions, then he shall suffer through it all alone. No one needed to get involved in his personal matters, not again.

"...Are you sad, Riddle-san?"

No one...but you, who personally knocked ever so gently against the walls he built around himself.

Riddle didn't know if you were aware of his dilemma or had just consulted him out of pure instinct but he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't caught off guard that one day. It was the end of another unbirthday party that you and Grimm were invited to. You had dared to place your hand on his head, stroking his hair once and even asked such an outrageous question. Suffice to say, he was surprised, it left his mouth open but words don’t seem to come out. It also occurred to him that you might've done that deed unconsciously as he could practically see the realization coming down upon you, retracting your hands from his head almost immediately.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry...! I touched you without thinking..." You had apologized, bowing repeatedly but eventually looked up with an embarrassed smile. You scratched the back of your head, a tiny blush decorating your cheeks, feeling silly. "...I guess I just felt something really odd about you today, Riddle-san. It's probably just my imagination but still..."

"...Please cheer up. I'm sure no one would want to see you sad." You said, giving him a close-eyed smile and an awkward ‘Cheer-Up’ pose. "If you have something on your mind, feel free to share them with any of us!"

With Grimm screaming for you from the distance, you gave him one last smile and bowed before turning to your monster friend. Riddle didn't even get to say anything as he stood there, watching your figure disappear in the distance. He found himself reaching for his own head, on the same exact spot that your hand was in and looked down. That was unexpected, he really should get his act together if someone like you was able to tell. It was a relief that you didn't pry too much, that would've been a problem.

...Though, Riddle couldn't deny that something in him felt a little giddy for someone to see through him without words. The way you placed your hand on his head, the way your eyes looked at him, even if it was all done unintentionally. It made his face heat up and his heart could only beat so fast.

They all felt so gentle and sincere. He liked it.

But even so, Riddle turned around, clearing his throat and shaking his head awake out of such a ridiculous daydream. What is he talking about? Patting his head is a major offense to him personally! It's gesture that makes him feel inferior and doing so will immediately prompt him to decapitate your head off.

However, Riddle narrowed his eyebrows together and pat his reddening cheeks twice, just to calm himself down. You did recognize your mistake and it wasn't intentional after all so...He'll let you off the hook. He might've just been surprised, that's all, there was no more reason to fret over your touch like this.

Riddle needs to get his everything together, he's your senior, for god's sake.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

...Was what he told himself, correct? He thought he was done with this.

Someway, somehow, Riddle found himself inviting you for a private tea party with him one day. He doesn't like this, it feels like he's favoring you way too much, he doesn't even do this with Trey and the others. But one look at your troubled expression in the library that day was enough for him to come and talk to you. Seriously, had he really become this easy to catch these days? Anyways, your woes laid down on a subject that involves magic, it was probably why you look so troubled about it.

"You'll teach me? Really?"

That spark in your eyes was something Riddle had never seen before, it intrigued him for some reason. He originally thought that you were suspicious, suddenly appearing out of nowhere without a single ounce of magic. You ended up becoming a student, a half-student to precise, and not to mention a girl in a prestigious all-boys school that Night Raven. It already sounded problematic in papers and by ear, your whole existence in this school is a clear violation of rules! However, once he took a closer look at the bigger picture of your situation, only then did it occur to him how harmless you really are.

After all, you were just a normal girl who always seems to get involve in a situation you didn't ask for in the first place.

"I see...So, that's how it is." You said, humming. Even without magic to perform the activities written on the text book, you somehow understood the basic concept of the topic. As expected of Heartslabyul's Dorm Leader, his strict but careful manner of teaching was no joke.

Gracefully placing down his cup on a saucer, Riddle ran his finger smoothly on the huge block of text in the textbook. "You don't need magic to remember these formulas, correct? As long as you memorized all of them with accuracy, you'll have no problems in the upcoming tests." Riddle advised as you nodded, mentally taking notes of each and every one of his words. "Now, try to answer this next question with a different method. I'm sure you'll be able to figure out the trick soon enough."

True to what he said, you managed to answer all the questions in your homework and Riddle couldn't help but be amused with your reaction. You look so relieved that you were able to finish them in such a short period of time and with confidence too. This made him want to brag about how he could finish paper works at this amount in an even shorter time frame and with everything guaranteed to be correct just so he could see your amazed reaction. But he decided against it, thinking of how immature of a move it was.

"Riddle-san, you're really amazing...I could never do these things by myself." You whispered with a small laugh as you leaned down on the table, resting your head that had been starting to ache from all the memorization you've been doing. Riddle wanted to criticize your laid-back posture but, in the end, he kept it all on his own. Your exhaustion was to be expected after all, it’s understandable.

Riddle tilted his head to the side. "...Is that so? I do think this is normal for my age." He said, which merely made you laugh nervously and drop a sweat. What he said just proved how much of a genius this child is, having the personality of a workaholic. However, you noticed how he slouched down slightly, with something oddly lonely in his eyes. "...This is what I've been taught all my life after all. I have to be the best of the best."

Ah, of course, he's not a genius without a cost. That much is understandable at least. "That's not true." You said without thinking, making Riddle turn to look at you. Your eyes were closed as if you were in the verge of falling asleep but that dazed, gentle smile remains on your face, telling him that you're still wide awake. "No one can be the 'best' out of the best. A child shouldn't grow up to believe that they can."

"...But unfortunately so, Riddle-san did, didn't he?" You phrased the words like it was supposed to be a response to yourself rather than to him. You opened your eyes, sympathy overflowing from within them that it makes Riddle's heart ache. "I can't imagine how painfully lonely that must've been, enduring and following all those crazy rules."

"But you know? It doesn't have to be like that anymore, you have friends who'll listen and spend time with you now." You said. "You can eat all the tart you want and not have to worry about breaking any rules for even just a second. It doesn't hurt to have fun once in a while."

"That's why, Riddle-san doesn't need to be the best of the best. You don't even have to listen to your mother if you, yourself knew how unreasonable her words are. You are your own person, after all." Riddle looked up at you and you couldn't help but to think of him as a little puppy, learning how to do his first trick for the first time. However, you blinked and covered your mouth when you realized that you just said something extremely rude in regards to his mother. "A-Ah! T-That's not to bad-mouth your mother or anything! I'm sure she was trying in her own way...! I think…?"

A tinge of awkwardness decorated your features as you sat properly on your seat, scratching the back of your head. "...But the point is...I just don't see why Riddle-san needs to be the best at everything. You're already fine the way you are." You said, looking down as you begin to feel really embarrassed of what you're saying. "Honestly, if you were my son, I'd be the proudest mother in the whole world~! No doubt about it!"

Widening his eyes at what you said, Riddle couldn't help but look down as different kinds of emotions swirling inside of him. His mouth twitched but he didn’t know whether to smile or to frown, he's incredibly indecisive right now. But his eyes did soften though, your last words had echoed over and over again inside his head, blocking out every other words that came after. He felt all warmed up on the inside that he clutched his chest tight and didn't seem to hear you say "Just kidding~" in a playful manner. You'll be the proudest mother you said, an actual proud mother who can be proud of someone like him.

"...Honestly, it would've been nice if you were indeed my mother in the first place..." He whispered with a strained, quavering voice, his hand clenching harder on his chest. How laughable, he's older than you and yet, he could actually feel himself at ease, consulting you like this.

"Eh...? Eh!? Riddle-san!?" You were about question him, trying to process if what you heard was correct. However, you quickly shot up from surprise in your seat as you looked at the red-haired's expression, a few drops of glistening tears began to overflow from his eyes. "W-Why are you crying...!? Aah, I'm sorry, I-I was joking...! I'm not gonna do it again, okay-"

"Hey..." Before you could say any more, you flinched as Riddle grabbed your hand, shutting you up completely. You fell into silence as he slowly brought your hand up on top of his head, your heart beating in anticipation. "Could you do it again...? Please?"

You felt your face heating up, not knowing how to process this turn of events. It was supposed to be a joke, an example to strengthen a point that you were trying to make. Still, Riddle seemed to have taken it seriously and you couldn't help but to feel a little sympathetic. It just proves that this child had been hungry, yearning for some needed motherly affection that he never got as a child. So desperate in fact, that he's willing to believe that silly little statement of yours.

Your eyes softened as you went closer to him and began to stroke his hair as gently as you could. You watched him sniffle, his shoulders shaking slightly as he tries to keep his cries at a minimum. "...You're still in pain, aren't you? You poor thing..." You said with a smile, purposely making your voice as soft as possible to give him the sense of comfort. "There, there...It'll be alright. Everything's going to be alright."

With that, Riddle couldn't help himself anymore and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. Sitting on his little throne, he buried his face on your stomach, his tears staining your uniform but you didn't mind. All you could really do was to continue stroking his hair and welcomed his head in an embrace. "...Thank you for enduring everything all this time, you've been such a good boy." You comforted, closing your eyes and Riddle could just melt against you. "But we're here now, you don't have to worry anymore. From now on, you'll never feel lonely again."

"You've done an excellent job, Riddle. I'm so proud."

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~?

Yume had to force herself to buy a new laptop because she knew she wouldn’t be able to survive Online Class without one (c" ತ,_ತ) I’m quite a stranger to electronics really, but I’m learning as I go, but I still miss my old laptop aaaa- （；＿；）

BUT NEVERMIND THAT!

Yume had reach 500+ followers! That many Darlings!? Isn’t it crazy!? (´；Д；`) To think this blog could actually reach that much lol Yume just wanted to release some hornii \(//∇//)\ Thank you very much, Sweethearts~! My fellow Hornii people ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

...I’m excited for the next few Sinfics (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

[genesisrose74]

could I request headcannons for noya,kuroo and bokuto where they have an s/o who’s very short (around 5’1) but they really don’t mind being short and actually prefer it? ahh i see so many ppl here who don’t really like being short but i just,,, i just vibe with it LOL thanks in advance ! 💕

Short S/O Headcanons - Nishinoya, Kuroo, and Bokuto

A/n: You can absolutely request that! I am so very glad y’all are looking for some Noya content because I love that boy with every fiber of my being wanted to write something for him since he’s such a great character :p - hope you like it!

Nishinoya

Let’s be honest: Nishinoya doesn’t give a shit how tall or short you may be

He is the living embodiment of “All women are queens” and will live by that code for the rest of his days

But with you happening to be just his size - and actually a bit shorter! - it makes him incredibly happy

The fact that you’re totally chill with being (definitely) on the shorter side makes him all the more glad because he loves that you see your worth based on something more than pure height

Adores picking you up and spinning you around because your feet won’t awkwardly scrape against the ground lmao

You’re both insanely good at playing hide and seek because you can fit into smaller spaces with relative ease

Don’t ask how this situation arose; the Karasuno boys got a bit competitive and wanted to see who was the most stealthy of the club

It took half an hour for them to find you and Noya

Suga got very worried that someone had kidnapped y’all for goodness sake

Poor thing almost had a heart attack when they finally found you both vibing in two lockers right next to each other I kid you not

Expert climber as you’ve learned to improvise, adapt, and overcome the more vertically challenged parts of your daily life

You and Noya have games to see who can reach the top of a shelf the fastest

Winner gets kissies 🥰

Little spoon all day every day; Noya enjoys being the one who gives all the nice big cuddles so it’s not even a question

BLANKETS. BRO. I don’t even know what to say except that being shorter allows you more ability to achieve ultimate blanket coziness

Cause taller people sometimes have trouble with needing to find a certain position to make sure their feet and limbs are all underneath the warmth of that damn thing which can be annoying

On the other hand, you and Nishi deadass roll up into a blanket burrito and sit on the couch together, watching movies and living life ya know

Couple naps everywhere. No joke. On a chair, a couch, beanbag, just...anywhere you can fit comfortably (damn I wish I could do that)

God Noya just loves you holy wow congrats on winning the short king

Kuroo

After years of getting his kneecaps obliterated by Yaku for height comments, Kuroo has been disciplined into not making references to shortness

The fact that you don’t mind it at all though makes him a bit relieved, after having to deal with the libero’s unrelenting aggression for so long

He’s comfortable enough now to use a couple nicknames relating to your height without immediately fearing for his life

Loves loves loves that you’re shorter than him, without a doubt

One of his favorite things is sitting you in his lap and then resting his chin on the top of your head

Most comfortable position for watching television together not gonna lie

SWEATSHIRTS. PERIOD.

You’re basically drowning in how large the captain’s team jacket is on your figure, but it’s perfectly okay because holy wow it’s so freaking warm

Forehead kisses have easily become Kuroo’s specialty. He’s super sweet and gentle as he leans down to quickly press his lips against the crown of your head before heading to practice — absolute perfection

Speaking of routines before practice, he always comes to your classroom prior to the start of warm ups

You’re usually perched on top of your desk, swinging your legs carelessly while you talk to classmates after school, and in comes the Nekoma third year himself

The height difference is a bit less drastic when you’re sitting on top of your desk, which not only makes you look super cute with your feet not touching the ground but allows for optimal kiss height

“Hello, kitten. Fun size. Light of my life,” he greets you, planting numerous kisses on your face between each nickname.

“Hi rooster head, beanstalk-looking ass. How’ve ya been on this fine afternoon?”

God y’all joke and roast each other a LOT, so after a while the height thing definitely comes into play more often than not

Prides on making you feel protected and can very often be found engulfing you in the biggest hugs you could ever imagine

And you’ve basically just disappeared from view in that position

wHaT? WHeRe DiD yOu GO? God I’m sorry I felt the need to-

Bokuto

Where do I even start oh my goodness

He is absolutely enamored with how small you are compared to him

Piggy back rides all the time. On dates, on the way home, in the school halls, you name it

As much as you’re chill with being short, getting the birdseye view on his shoulders is so fun

It’s so cute to him how your eyes light up getting to see everything from up top

Speaking of piggy backs, Bo similarly LOVES throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

Just runs off with you literally hanging upside down and laughing your ass off

10/10 adorable

Like Kuroo, sweatshirt sharing is a very common occurrence

He thinks sweater paws are the most adorable thing; his heart goes all mushy and he needs to be snapped back into reality

Tell me right now that this man would not go out of his way to buy you a massive animal plushie that’s practically larger than you

“Koutarou, where am I going to put this?”

“In your room, duh”

“It won’t even fit through my front door”

Now it sits in his house to be used at your convenience whenever you’re visiting

The plushie’s name is Captain Cuddles 🥰

Don’t give Capt. too much attention though or else Bo will get depresso 😔

Falling asleep on him is hands down one of the best occurrences for you both

His shoulders are just so broad dude there’s so much space for maximum comfy

Could sleep there for mf hours

And you just look so cute all snuggled up on him that it’s easily become Bokuto’s favorite sight in the world

Resting his cheek on the top of your head whenever he gets bored at school

Koala bear style hugs are just *chefs kiss* perfection with you two

Ultimate pairing at Fukurodani; the good vibes your relationship radiates is unmatched

[captainstarkky]

In ep13 in DAYS, Why do you think TDK was dreaming of MM crying? There has to be a reason right? How can she see a possible future?

Hello!

So, let me tell you in advance, although I work in the discipline of psychology, dream analysis is never my cup of tea (lol) simply because most of its meaning changes overtime.

But either way, since we are here let's do this!

On my short analysis of Episode 13, I gave a bit of what I thought was the reason of TDK dreaming of MM. You can check it here.

But I think I got to elaborate on some parts - since it's short and kind of very straightforward and confusing.

In there, I explained that dreaming of death actually means having a hard time coping up with changes. The thing is that, that change isn't encompassed by whatever we think change is. It actually is the literal change - yes, the one that is constant: change.

TDK does seem to experience a lot of changes throughout the episode doesn't she? She was diagnosed with an aggressive brain cancer (1), then she discovered that her boyfriend was already married (2), her boss was a sexist that always pointed out the disadvantage of her being a woman, a weirdo showing up to her doorstep (Myul Mang), discovering that this weirdo is actually a supernatural being that is the personification of death himself, entering a contract with him, and finally, probably the biggest, is when her memories were all wiped out - leaving her back to zero before meeting Myul Mang.

Of everything mentioned above, she was able to cope up because she had Myul Mang by her side. But what if we remove MM from the story? It's obvious that her mind wouldn't be able to handle the stress. But she got her family with her. That is the point. Instead of being comforted, I bet she feels even more burdened. She can't talk to anyone how she really feels. She can't easily confide to anyone if she feels scared or what. It was way too different when MM was around.

(He might have a nasty personality, but MM really helped TDK cope with accepting her own demise - and now he's gone from her memory)

Take note that she have a reason why she did it. She had a reason and her reason is that (1) she doesn't want him to feel pain when she's gone; and (2) she already knew what he was planning to do and she doesn't want him to disappear -which he eventually did in Episode 14.

Because of this too much things that are happening in her head - plus the unexpected return of MM in her life, it's inevitable that she would experience a great deal of anxiety and stress. And most of these, if not channeled out of the body could manifest themselves as dreams.

Now we're here. Answering a question on why did she dream about MM crying over her funeral.

So let's lay down the things we know before that scene happened.

Flash back, TDK had her memories of MM wiped out; it was together with their initial contract.

TDK met MM in the most unexpected way at the parking lot.

They talked and we realized that the contact was void when we heard her thoughts - he was not supposed to.

Then they renewed the contract.

MM got very curious about TDK after renewing the contract because Sonyeonshin told him that she did not do anything to him but to TDK.

He asked questions - basically interrogated her.

He saw his phone, then probably asked himself "why does he have a phone and why is the wallpaper of my phone a picture of me and that TDK?" It made him a lot more piqued.

Then TDK was informed that after the biopsy, a portion of her hair would be shaved and her hair would start falling down as the chemo and rad therapy starts. So she was advised to shave it off while she still have time.

She went solo. She went to a saloon and styled her hair before asking the stylist to shave her head off.

But even before that happened, her nose bled and she slightly panicked when the stylist panicked; as she was standing up, she suddenly had a dizziness attack and stumbled. MM caught her as she was falling and he brought her back to the hospital.

Now the dream. Okay, if you've read my short interpretation of it then the explanation of the dream should be OK already. As for "why he dreamt of MM specifically?"

Well, in a scientific point of view, it's easy. It's not that she wanted to see MM. It is because MM was the last person she saw. But that is just too boring, tbh. So let's get haphazard and explain it with fun.

I think, her dreaming of MM, is an indication that her mind is trying to piece out together specific events that would possibly happen. It's not foreseeing, dreams oftentimes don't do that - unless you're a psychic. It's an imagination on what could happen given the facts. MM could be a representation of the great deal of people that would mourn her death - now, why not any from her family? Why specifically MM? Because of either: (1) he's the last person she saw. The closest her brain could describe as 'most human', that is. (2) her brain was closely piecing up information about 'someone' and he fit the bill; (3) she's also equally curious of MM that's why her brain was trying to personify him in her subconscious, now using him as the 'model'; (4) Sometimes, the person you see in your dream is a reflection of what you really feels inside. In my own analysis, Sa-ram in her dream is a reflection of what she really feels inside - sad, sorry, and pity to herself that she would die and she cannot do anything.

Could either of the four. Or: (5) even if she forgot about him, his existence has already been engraved in her system. And by the time he popped out in front of her again, it allowed her brain to see a discrepancy on the system and as it tried to bring back the memories she lost, it brought back the thought of MM crying in front of her memorial. That's the power of curiosity. That is also the reason why most amnestic patients have very vivid dreams - their brain is trying to establish a connection of the severed memories.

And for the record, she did not see a possible future. It was her head making up illusions of what could happen in the future given the facts that she knew. Some of the facts that she knew that probably lead to that dream:

She's dying.

She's supposed to die.

This man (MM) is weird, and he's the last guy I saw.

"He's probably no-one but why does he pop out everywhere I go?"

Bonus information from my theory:

Why did she apologize to MM?

She apologized to MM because she saw him crying. And that's because of her funeral for sure.

Because her brain now recognizes MM as the model of the people who would mourn for her, she apologizes to him.

Because most of the dreams are ambiguous, there is a fictional/conspiracy theory that could say that MM in the dream represents TDK's state of mind. She's not coping up with the change she's been to and she was struggling in trying to connect the dots. She's curious of MM but she can't remember who he is. So she was apologizing.

She was apologizing to herself for literally throwing her happiness away. And even is she forgot who Sa-ram is, she knew that she’s unconsciously longing for him. But she can't remember him - so she was apologizing to him.

Why did she apologize to the real world MM?

It was a brief hallucination - a normal hallucination when a person is asleep. It was her still trying to apologize to the made up MM in her brain, without her knowing that she was really apologizing to the real MM.

It could be that even before MM came inside the room, she was already sleep talking: "I'm sorry." It's just that, coincidentally, he was there, holding her hand and since she saw him in her dream, she unconsciously apologized to him too.

By the way, if a nurse was there, she would've done the same. Scientifically, she was still asleep and not awake. She was in the period of transitional state of consciousness between wakefulness and sleep - so technically she was still not on her 100% wakefulness.

I hope I made sense. Lol. It's just, there are a lot of theories popping out and I'm sure most of them are deviating from one another. This is just my opinion of what was happening and others might have different opinions as well. I just hope I laid mine well enough to be understood.

Thank you for asking, doommate!

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: an enemies to lover shot for Juke please

Seeing as you asked so nicely, I couldn’t not do this. This trope, man. I love it so much. Thank you for the suggestion! Also, I gave Julie my own comfort song (it’s held that title for about two years now lol) and I highly suggest you all go listen to it.

Rhythm in my Heart

Julie was beginning to wonder whether joining a band on a whim purely because the boy she had known for twenty minutes had asked her to was really the best idea.

It had gone like this: Julie had been looking for Flynn in the lunch hall but hadn’t been able to see her anywhere. That was weird, mainly because Flynn’s tendency to dress in colours brighter than stars usually made her recognisable anywhere, but also because Julie had seen her just five minutes ago. They had been stood in the line together, Flynn had got her food and hurried off to find a table, but now Julie just couldn’t seem to spot her anywhere.

So, Julie had begun wandering the lunch hall in search of Flynn. Granted, she could have been a little more careful as she did so instead of paying very little attention to her surroundings, but she couldn’t help but be a little worried. Flynn didn’t just disappear like this; normally it was hard to prise her from Julie’s side.

In short, Julie hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on around her as she meandered through the lunch hall. Which was why it was partially her fault when she walked right by somebody just as they jumped out of their seat and threw their arms in the air, knocking her tray from her hands and sending food flying.

Flying right into Julie’s face.

As she blinked tomato sauce out of her eyes, Julie could feel the eyes of hundreds of Los Feliz’s students on her, could practically hear them gawking and taking photos of her as she stood there covered in spaghetti. She was dimly aware of somebody apologising over and over again, but all she was really conscious of was the fact that she was angry. Really angry.

Julie wiped furiously at her face, picked a long strand of spaghetti off her jumper, and glared at the person stood in front of her, the one who had knocked her tray. It was a boy, maybe a year or two older than her, and she had to admit that he did look apologetic. But that wasn’t the point – all the puppy-dog eyes in the world wouldn’t get sauce stains out of her best jumper.

“I am so sorry,” the boy said when Julie locked eyes with him. He picked up a napkin with fumbling fingers and began dabbing at the hem of her jumper. She yanked the material away from him and, if possible, glared harder. The boy shrank away a little.

She swiped the napkin from his hand. “I got it,” she hissed.

“Um, I’ll, um… I can buy you another lunch?” the boy offered, scratching at the back of his head. “It was my fault, I shouldn’t have whacked the tray, I… Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes,” Julie seethed. “You can leave me alone.”

With that, she picked up the tray off the floor, dusted herself off a little more in an attempt to retain some sort of dignity, then tried to brush past the boy.

“My name is Luke, by the way,” he called after her. Julie didn’t respond, she just kept walking.

Luckily, even through all the stares and jeers and people getting in her way purely to laugh at her, it didn’t take Julie too long to find Flynn afterwards. She was sat right at the back of the hall at what appeared to be the only empty table, scrolling on her phone. When she saw Julie heading her way, she gave her usual bright smile, but it melted into mingled confusion and disgust when she saw that Julie was in fact covered in pasta and sauce.

“You got a little something there,” Flynn said, pointing to her own cheek. She was very clearly trying not to laugh, which Julie didn’t appreciate it.

“Thanks,” she deadpanned, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Is there a reason you’re wearing your lunch instead of eating it?”

“You didn’t see?” Julie asked.

Flynn shook her head then scrolled down a little on her phone and said, “Ah. Now I see.”

Julie’s eyes widened and she grabbed Flynn’s phone in a panic. Sure enough, multiple pictures of Luke knocking her tray and her being covered in food had already made their way onto Instagram. With a frustrated sigh, she handed Flynn’s phone back to her.

“I hate this school,” she said.

Flynn patted her arm comfortingly. “At least you have your amazing and supportive best friend by your side.”

“You’re still trying not to laugh.”

Flynn snorted, but quickly tried to mask her amusement again. It didn’t work.

“I’m sorry,” she said in between laughs, “but it’s hard to take you seriously when there’s spaghetti in your hair.”

The whole incident had taken up enough time that there was only five minutes left of the lunch period anyway. Julie put her tray away and headed to the toilets to clean up as best she could – all she could really do was wash her face with the scalding water that came from the school’s taps, but it was better than nothing.

She tried to let the rest of the day cheer her up, but it just wouldn’t work. Not even the fact that she had dance class with Flynn and Nick could brighten her mood. She really needed a miracle.

Whenever Julie was feeling down, music was the one thing that could cheer her up. That had always been the way. When she was young, it had been the soothing, melodic voice of her mother Rose that had been the thing to calm her down; as she grew up, her comfort songs had been ballads by her favourite bands; nowadays, Julie’s own music was what she used to cope. Making her own music, her own sound, it felt so personal and freeing that it just made sense that it would help her out of any dark place.

So, when school finished, she headed down to the music rooms instead of going back home. Usually, if a student wanted the use of a music room after school they’d have to book it in advance, which Julie hadn’t, but she figured that she would only be in there for a few minutes so it wouldn’t matter.

She slipped into the closest and smallest music practise room – it housed only a piano, an amp, and a strange array of sheet music ranging from Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 8 to Jingle Bells. Julie quietly shut the door behind her and settled herself at the piano.

Just like that, she felt herself begin to relax. She could forget that her jumper was still stained, she could forget that even dance class hadn’t cheered her up, she could forget that anything bad had happened that day at all. She let her fingers rest atop the keys for just a moment before she began to play what was her current comfort song, Einaudi’s Nuvole Bianche.

She lost herself and the bad feeling all in one go.

It wasn’t until she heard the door to the practise room opening that she stopped and remembered that she wasn’t actually supposed to be there.

She abruptly turned to face the door, standing up and grabbing her bag, ready to leave. In the doorway stood a boy with a bass guitar slung over his shoulder. His eyes were wide, his mouth open, and he was staring at Julie like he’d seen a ghost.

“Sorry,” she said hurriedly, “I didn’t realise somebody else had booked this room, I’ll go and you–”

“Dude,” the boy interrupted, coming into the room and letting the door fall shut behind him. “That was awesome! You shred on the piano, man!”

Julie recognised the expression on his face then. It was awe.

She laughed nervously. “It’s nothing. Thanks, though. I need to get going.”

The boy frowned as Julie tried to move past him out of the room. “You can stay if you want, I don’t mind. We can jam together! Or you could teach me piano – I’ve been trying to learn by myself, I only know a few chords so far, but I’m getting pretty good. Watch this!”

He put his bass down, readied his hands above the piano, and plonked out a basic chord pattern. When he was done, he turned to Julie and beamed proudly. She couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s great,” she said. “Well done. Are you sure you want me to stay? You booked the room, I don’t want to get in your way.”

The boy waved her away. “No, come on. It’ll be fun. We can write a song or something! My name’s Reggie.”

Julie hesitated for a moment, but then made up her mind. She smiled and said, “I’m Julie. Nice to meet you.”

For the next twenty minutes, Julie and Reggie sat side-by-side on the far too small piano stool as Julie tried to teach him how to play the piano. He was a quick learner, and within that time she had managed to help him block the chords for a country song he was wanting to write.

She was about to move on to telling him about basslines (which, she thought, he should have been pretty good at already since he had shown up with a bass guitar) when he gasped loudly and hit her arm.

“You should join my band!” he exclaimed.

“You have a band?” Julie asked.

Reggie nodded excitedly. “Yeah! We’re called Sunset Curve, we’re a rock band. Our rhythm guitarist just left and we’ve been looking for somebody to take his place.”

Julie pointed to the piano. “That’s not a guitar.”

“Well, no,” Reggie admitted, “but we don’t have a piano either and we’ve always talked about finding someone who could do it. It could be you, Julie! Think about how much fun it could be!”

“Who else is in your band?” Julie asked. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering it.

“It’s just me and two of my buddies, they play lead guitar and drums. We have a really good sound, but it would be awesome if we added a piano. What do you say?”

Julie didn’t know whether it was the stress of her bad day getting the better of her, or the relaxation of playing the piano, or just the fact that Reggie was impossible to say no to, but she found herself shrugging her shoulders and saying, “Sure. When do we rehearse?”

She was regretting that now.

It was the following weekend and Julie had just arrived at what Reggie had described to her as a studio. She wasn’t sure the dimly lit garage with a low-tech amp and half a drum kit could really qualify as a studio, but she supposed that the homely touches like the dartboard and some drawings hung on the wall made it feel a little nicer. She shrugged off her coat and then regretted it because it was freezing cold in the ‘studio’.

“Hey Julie,” greeted Reggie excitedly. He waved at her from his perch atop the amp, beckoning her over. “Come and meet the guys!”

Julie headed in his direction and saw that he was sat with two other boys. One of them, a blond with a shy smile wearing a thick pink hoodie, was sat behind the incomplete drum kit – he gave a little wave with a drumstick in his hand and said, “Hey, I’m Alex, how’s it going?”

“Nice to meet you,” she replied. “I’m Julie.”

Julie turned to the other boy and immediately felt her face fall. The last time she’d seen him she’d had tomato sauce in her eyes but there was still no chance that she would forget those stupid puppy-dog eyes and that ridiculous haircut – it was the idiot who had spoiled her lunch.

“You,” she seethed.

The boy – what was his name? Lucas? Lydon? Larry? – looked utterly terrified. He took a step back from Julie with a nervous laugh and hit his back on Reggie’s amp.

“Hey… Fancy seeing you here!” he said, trying for a smile but failing miserably.

Reggie and Alex looked between each other, confused.

“You two know each other?” Alex asked.

“Know is a strong word,” the lunch-ruiner said nervously. “We’ve met.”

“Unfortunately,” Julie growled. She turned to Reggie. “I’m not sure this is going to work out, Reggie. I’m sorry.”

Reggie looked hurt, which was the only reason Julie didn’t walk out of the room right that moment. “Oh, come on, Julie! You’ve got him all wrong!”

“I’m sure whatever Luke did to upset you was stupid and entirely his fault,” said Alex (to which Luke – Luke, that was his name, she remembered now – weakly protested, “Hey!”), “but from what Reggie’s told us we could really use you in the band. We’d love to have you and we promise to try and keep Luke on his best behaviour.”

Julie sighed heavily, frowning as she looked between the boys. She knew that Reggie was an absolute sweetheart, and Alex seemed to be kind and sensible – maybe she could hold a grudge against Luke and the other two band members could make it work.

“Fine,” she huffed, pointing a finger at Luke. “But I’m not promising that I’ll like you.”

He shook his head, eyes wide. “It’s cool. Thanks for sticking around.”

The rehearsal went… interestingly. The piano they’d got Julie was hardly a piano at all – it was a little keyboard that only ranged two octaves and its keys were tiny, although it did have a delightful range of demos and sounds that Reggie spent ten minutes trying out. When they got to playing, Julie could hardly even hear herself, but the others all seemed to think it sounded good.

Julie found out that Luke was on lead vocals with Alex and Reggie backing him. He had written out a score for all their parts including his vocal line, but when he sang part of it Julie realised it was wrong – he was singing an E when it very clearly stated on the sheet music that it was supposed to be a C-sharp. She wasn’t going to say anything (it was her first day with the band and she didn’t want to overstep by correcting the boy who seemed to be their unofficial leader) but eventually it got too annoying.

“You’re singing that line wrong,” she told him flatly. Everyone looked to her, eyes wide.

“What?” Luke said, smiling but sounding insulted. “I’m pretty sure I’m not.”

She shrugged lightly. “I’m pretty sure you are, but go off, I guess.”

Luke’s smile widened even more but didn’t reach his eyes - definitely fake, definitely passive-aggressive. “What do you think I’m doing wrong?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Julie pointed to the music. “You’re singing an E on this line, but you’ve written a C-sharp. Want me to demonstrate?”

“I got it,” Luke snarled, snatching the music.

“I’d like to hear Julie demonstrate,” Reggie piped up, raising his hand. “Please, Julie?”

“Happily,” Julie said. “You’re singing this: I got a spark in me.” She ended on an E. “You’ve written this: I got a spark in me.” She ended on the C-sharp.  “Personally, I think what you’re singing sounds better than what you’ve written, but you’ll need to change one of them.”

Luke scowled. “Thanks. But I told you, I’ve got it.”

Julie turned to Alex and Reggie - both of whom had been watching their back and forth like a thrilling tennis match, heads bobbing in one direction then another - but now both of them were staring at Julie with their mouths ajar, seemingly unable to close them. 

“Woah,” Reggie breathed.

“You’re amazing, Julie,” Alex said. 

Reggie flung his hand into the air. “All those in favour of making Julie our new lead singer?”

Alex’s hand joined Reggie’s and slowly, just to annoy Luke further, Julie raised her own hand. Luke looked furious and betrayed.

“Hey,” he said, wounded, “I’m our lead singer.”

“Dude, that girl has the voice of an angel,” Reggie told him matter-of-factly, pointing at Julie who beamed back at him. “And if we make her our lead singer, you’ll be able to focus on things like neatening up your guitar solos.”

Luke gasped indignantly. “My guitar solos are perfectly neat!”

“Actually,” Julie interjected, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you’re coming in late on bar twenty-eight.”

Luke ignored her. “I’m our lead singer,” he repeated.

“Why don’t you share it?” Alex suggested, standing up. From the way Reggie and Luke immediately paid attention to him, Julie got the impression that Alex often had to act as a mediator when it came to band-based arguments. His unimpressed expression hinted that maybe he’d had to do this same thing one too many times. “You can both be lead singers. I think that’ll work - both of your voices are too good to omit completely.”

“You’ve heard her sing one line!”

“And she did it better than you,” Alex said flatly. “Now can we please carry on with rehearsal?”

Luke grumbled something, but readied his guitar again. Julie began playing her chords and, assuming they’d made their decision that both of them were going to be the lead, began to sing.

*

“So what you’re telling me is that you have a huge crush on this guy.”

“I have absolutely no idea where you got that from.”

Three weeks had passed since Julie’s first rehearsal with the boys. After a suggestion from Reggie and a heated debate that had transformed into a full-blown argument between Julie and Luke, Sunset Curve had been renamed to Julie and the Phantoms. Julie would now sing the melody with Luke on harmonies (an arrangement that had been painful to reach), and Alex and Reggie were happy to stay on backing vocals.

Julie was at her favourite ice cream parlour with Flynn - they were both tucking into enormous ice cream sundaes that both had claimed they would be able to finish but likely wouldn’t, and Julie was trying to tell Flynn about how annoying Luke had been at rehearsal the other day.

“I got it from the way you talk about him,” Flynn said, accusingly pointing her spoon at Julie. “And from the way your face looks when you talk about him. And from what I saw when I picked you up from rehearsal the other day.”

Julie shook her head. She did not have a crush on Luke.

“You’re going to need to explain a little better than that,” she told Flynn.

Flynn sat up straighter, smiling brightly. “Gladly. First of all, the way you talk about him - you may be describing your arguments, but you throw in compliments that are disguised as insults.”

“I do not do that,” Julie scoffed.

Flynn raised an eyebrow. “I can give examples. Like ‘He would be a lot easier to like if he didn’t have such a distractingly perfect smile, it gets in the way’. Or how about—”

“Okay,” Julie said, raising her hands. “I don’t need more examples. Just... just carry on explaining.”

“The way your face looks when you talk about him,” Flynn continued. “It’s kind of gross, actually. You go all starry-eyed and you smile like a dope, and if I’m honest I don’t understand how you don’t realise you’re doing it. Like, surely you feel your cheeks hurt when you smile that wide?”

“Ha ha,” Julie monotoned.

“I’m not joking.”

“Whatever. What else makes you so sure I like Luke? Which I do not.”

Flynn looked triumphant, as if whatever she said next would be the end of the discussion.

“The other day, when I came to the studio to walk you back to mine, Alex and Reggie came out way before you two. And when you and Luke finally emerged, you were both doing the heart-eyes-and-smile combo. And you were punching each other all playfully, which is definitely flirting. Then you tried to play it off like it was an actual argument!”

Julie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said. It was Flynn’s turn to roll her eyes. “It doesn’t! Just because he wasn’t unbearable that one time, it doesn’t mean I like him. In any way.”

“If you’re sure,” Flynn said, half defeated and half resigned.

“I am.”

But the thing was, Julie absolutely was not sure.

The band rehearsed the next day. Luke had managed to line up a gig that would take place in a fortnight’s time, so they were trying to get as much practise in as possible. In Julie’s extremely biased opinion, their set sounded fabulous - she had grudgingly worked with Luke to write most of it, and though she hated to say it, when they wrote together their songs were phenomenal.

As usual, Alex and Reggie headed out first. Really, that shouldn’t have been the case seeing as Alex’s instrument took the longest time to disassemble and Reggie was easily distracted, but Julie and Luke normally ended up being the last two there. It had started when Julie had reluctantly hung around to apologise to Luke for stealing his role of lead singer, and had become something of a habit.

“I was thinking,” Luke said to her as he packed away his guitar, “if we get Reggie and Alex to add echoes to the chorus in Great, it could sound really good. What do you think?”

Julie smiled. “Yeah. It’s a great idea, I’m surprised you thought of it.”

“Very funny,” Luke said, rolling his eyes. Julie noticed the tiny smile playing about his lips and couldn’t help but fight a smile of her own. “You are so hilarious it’s unbelievable.”

“I try,” she said with a shrug. And then her mouth didn’t consult her brain before saying, “Are you doing anything now?”

Luke looked at her, bewildered. “Why? Are you?”

Julie blinked, caught off guard by the situation. She hadn’t meant to say that. Now it sounded like she wanted to do something with him. She wasn’t meant to want to do something with him because Julie and Luke didn’t like each other. That was their whole relationship - dislike! She couldn’t ruin that by spending time with him.

Again, her mouth spoke before her brain could catch up. “No. Do you want to hang out, do something together? Just the two of us?”

Luke looked as confused as Julie felt.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sounds good.”

They didn’t end up leaving the studio. Instead, they sat together on the couch that Luke and Reggie had dragged in off the street one day (Alex and Julie had both refused to sit on it until they’d disinfected it thirty times and checked it for any number of animals, ranging from spiders to rats (god forbid)) and tried to work on some new songs.

Luke pulled his songbook out for inspiration and handed it to Julie to skim through. She skipped past the songs they had already performed or rehearsed to some further back. Luke, unlike any sane person, didn’t use his notebooks chronologically, so there were new songs and very old ones mixed in throughout.

Julie found herself not turning one page for a while. Eventually Luke realised that she wasn’t listening to him talk about chords, and looked over her shoulder. When he saw what she was reading, he snatched the book away.

“Why don’t we just try and think up something completely different to our usual stuff,” he suggested, clearly trying to change the subject.

Julie didn’t want to press.

She did anyway.

“That seemed pretty different to our usual stuff,” she said softly. “Luke... who’s Emily?”

She knew she didn’t have a right to be upset. She didn’t know why she was upset. It wasn’t as if she liked Luke; if he had a girlfriend or someone he fancied enough to write a song about then that was none of her business. She didn’t get to fret over the love life of a boy she didn’t even like.

Luke looked at her for a long time. She held eye contact. She could see the cogs turning in his head, see him considering whether or not to tell her.

Finally, he sighed and said, “Emily is my mom.”

Julie tried not to react. She hadn’t been expecting that response, and upon hearing that Emily wasn’t Luke’s girlfriend something inside her did a happy little jump. But Luke’s face was solemn and tense, so Julie knew that she had to be sensible right now. Obviously, whatever Luke was saying wasn’t something easy.

“Your mom?” she prompted.

Luke nervously tugged his beanie a little lower. “Yeah... she’s my mom. I wrote that for her last year. She... I... We... We had an argument - well, we had loads of arguments - but this was the worst one. I ran away from home after it happened and I’ve not been back or seen her at all. I... I wanted to do something for her or at least get some stuff off my chest, so I wrote that song.”

“Do Alex and Reggie know?” Julie asked tentatively.

“About the song or the argument?”

“Both.”

He nodded. “Yeah, they know. They’ve played the song with me before, and our old rhythm guitarist Bobby did too. It was really cool of them - they don’t bring it up unless I do first. It’s kind of hard sometimes. Like, I want to talk about it, but I don’t want to be the one to start. I wish they would sometimes.”

Julie nodded. “I get it.”

He shook his head. “And they let me sleep at their houses before I found my own place - here.” He gestured vaguely around the studio.

Julie felt her eyes widen. The draughty roof, the leaky walls, the way that the couch and thin blanket was the only bed in sight.

“You live here?” she said, astounded.

He shrugged. “It’s not much. It’s all I’ve got. And... well, I’d like to go home one day, anyway. It isn’t permanent.”

Julie had no response. Luke was practically homeless, living in their studio. It was nothing. Nothing. He had nowhere to go.

“You can come and stay at my house whenever you want,” Julie said quickly. “My dad won’t mind. He won’t want you sleeping in the cold.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.”

“I am.”

There was silence for a moment. Luke looked at Julie and Julie looked at Luke. She felt on the edge of something, she didn’t know what. Being there with Luke felt... exciting, even despite the conversation they were having. Just the two of them, alone, talking without walls built around themselves.

“I really do get it, you know,” she said quietly. “How it feels not to see your mom.”

Luke straightened up, his face scrunched in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Julie took a deep breath. “My mom passed away about a year ago. Music was our thing... it took me ages to play again without her. I still haven’t been able to face writing about her or anything like that. But my point is that I know how it feels to have the most important person in your life missing. There one day and gone the next.” She huffed a mirthless laugh that turned into a sniffle.

She felt Luke take her hand.

“You are not alone, Julie.”

She held his hand in return.

“Neither are you.”

*

“Oh please, you two are so in love!” Flynn exclaimed when Julie told her the story. Julie smacked her arm.

“It’s not love,” she insisted. “But... fine, maybe I like him. He’s a lot different to how I first thought.”

“What are you going to do?” Flynn asked excitedly, her legs bouncing up and down.

Julie sighed. “I have no idea.”

*

It turned out that Julie didn’t need to have any idea of what she was going to do. It happened naturally.

Julie and the Phantoms finished their set at the gig Luke had booked them - with a flourish and a fancy trick of the light that Flynn and Julie had helped Reggie sort out, the boys disappeared off stage in the blink of an eye, and the audience applauded Julie as she instructed them to, “Tell your friends!”

It had gone swimmingly. Julie had hit the high note in Bright perfectly despite struggling with it in almost every rehearsal; Luke’s harmonies had been on point; Alex had more confidence with each song, adding more complicated drum fills as time went on; and as usual Reggie’s incredible stage presence had the audience howling and enjoying themselves. Julie was proud of all of them to an almost dangerous degree.

Elated, she hurried off stage after the boys. They were all huddled together backstage and grinned when they saw Julie coming towards them.

She didn’t think. It happened automatically. Running on adrenaline, she flung herself at Luke, crushing him in a tight hug. Luckily it appeared that he was ready too, because he hugged her back with ferocity and lifted her off her feet, spinning them around.

“You were incredible, Julie,” he said, laughing, “they were loving you!”

“They loved us,” Julie said as Luke put her down. 

She had intended to congratulate Alex and Reggie too, but suddenly found herself unable to look away from Luke. His hands were still on her waist, and hers on his shoulders. She didn’t want either of them to move.

Distantly, she heard Alex and Reggie shuffle away.

“Listen, Julie,” Luke said, voice raspy. “Ever since... I was going to say ‘ever since our conversation in the studio’ but actually I don’t know when it started. Ever since sometime, I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

She swallowed. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something too.”

“I hope it’s the same as what I have to say,” Luke laughed. Then he turned a little more serious again. “It’s... I really like you, Julie. I think you’re an amazing singer and you improve the band a ton and you make me a better writer. You make me a better person. I just... I really like you.”

Julie couldn’t help but smile. “I really like you too, Luke. I really, really like you.”

“Really?” he asked, beaming.

“Really.”

“Thank god,” he said, and Julie couldn’t help but laugh. “The guys said you did but I wasn’t sure.”

“Tell me about it,” Julie said, “Flynn’s been on at me about this for ages.”

He laughed, smiling and ducking his head. “You really are something, Julie.”

She playfully punched his arm. “So are you.”

[dylanhawth]

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.

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omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it’s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 

01.      basics.

NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.

 02.      appearance.

EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.

03.      habits.

ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.

04.      personality.

MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 

05.      hc’s.

dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 

touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 

he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.

just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 

speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 

dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 

[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 

all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 

he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 

prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.

eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 

if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 

cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 

bi. that’s the hc.

he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 

he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 

( @opalsmedia​ )

[doorsclosingslowly]

Your death is a number but I cannot count that high (11/16)

In which Death Watch enter the enemy ship, and Asajj gets her shot at freedom.

Zombie Savage AU | 2.5k | warning for body horror

For the first time in weeks, Asajj feels light. It’s almost offensive, how quickly she slipped from world-devouring grief and heartburn and eternal nightmares into mission planning and execution mode, but then again: she enjoys bounty hunting. Pursuit and infiltration are basically her comfort zone, and even the present company cannot spoil her thrill.

She finally has solid ground under her feet again. The swamp that broils and laps at her with every dream and with every wriggling fleshworm that fucking Savage Opress sends her way is receding, and soon enough, when she gets her chance, she’ll kill it off—kill him—for good.

Asajj’s sisters and Mother Talzin may have accidentally landed her in a malignant trap when they tried to help her fight Dooku, but Asajj will chew her way free.

That’s why she volunteered to be ground troop today. She needs to rescue herself. She needs to cut off this bond, cut off the mate, cut off the drowning boulder. She’d been prepared to argue and fight for the opportunity, since it’s not like anybody trusts her here, but it was surprisingly easy. Not even a doubtful look—no, the only response she’d received was appreciation for her fearlessness in the face of certain death. Well, maybe it is. Maul keeps insisting that Savage’s torture is a trap laid by Sidious, his past shadowy Sith Master, and that setting a foot on Entralla means getting fried and disappeared and tortured. He himself is going down still, obviously—by now it doesn’t even appear to be bravado or tending to his image before his following but genuine mushy affection for that dumb creature, and if Asajj wasn’t busy she might almost be curious—Maul is coming down with her, as are Kast and Saxon and three dozen other supercommandos. That’s what they’d settled on, once their advance droid surveillance footage yesterday had revealed their target to be a small spaceship surrounded by a hundred medium-sized tents.

Maul, Kast and Saxon at once, who as far as she’s observed are the three highest-ranking members of Death Watch, and on what all of them believe is a suicide mission—Asajj would call them brain-dead, but actually, she doesn’t care. Either Maul is every inch the scared wretch of a cast-off Sith plaything he appears and is making mountains out of skrant-hills, or she’ll, most likely, be dead too. Looks like that gamorrean sow Kast likes to suck face with will soon inherit the whole sorry rest of their terrorist crew.

Most of Death Watch, though, is inside three hundred small Kom’rk-class fighters or the two stolen Separatist dreadnaughts, standing by to intercept any fleeing ship with gravity wells or sheer violence. Well. That’s one of the reasons. Every ground Mando is in periodic radio contact with one of their motherships, and should they go silent when Sidious gets them… if the mission goes sour, dead man’s switch. Asajj doesn’t know about the exact logistics of how many have to miss check-in before the omnicidal aerial bombardment begins… but she’s starting to understand Maul’s paranoia regarding this ‘Sidious’ well enough to know they’re going to risk killing their Mand’alor sooner rather than later. It’s reassuring, almost. They’ll kill Sidious no matter what.

Well. And her, too.

But Asajj knew when she allowed that Mando to think she’d captured her that this wasn’t going to be easy. Up until know she’s always found a way to make it out alive. She’ll manage. And Sidious killed her sisters. Killed Talzin. Killed Dathomir.

Sidious will die, and so will Opress. Anything else is secondary.

She’s wearing a set of scavenged armor over her clothes and a jetpack and a gas mask, nothing more. Most of the ground team have massive tanks mounted on their back, too, full of some quick heavyweight airborne soporific Death Watch managed to procure on short notice.

(“If it’s taking this long to cook something up, we could just use poison,” Asajj had suggested, entirely not for selfless reasons. “We’re using the weedkiller tanks you Mandos use for farming, after all. We could just keep the weedkiller.”

“This is still a rescue mission,” Kast had replied severely. Unfortunately, despite being a fanatic terrorist and obeying Maul of all people and a habit of throwing tantrums about the horrible plight of Savage Opress, she wasn’t entirely braindead. “Damage is acceptable, but we won’t kill our brother.”

Maul had looked on, silent.)

Maul and Asajj are going to enter the ship first. That makes sense—both of them are assassins more than soldiers, they’re better than the Mandos at keeping quiet—and even if Maul will be a hindrance when they find Savage, she can use him as a distraction before that.

It feels weird, somehow, touching ground in front of the enemy’s ship. The unconscious guards on the ground are wearing clone trooper armor, which means that—yes, it means Death Watch got the drop on them and it means the soporific gas is effective, which is great, but Asajj didn’t expect this mission against Sidious to include a Grand Army of the Republic protection detail, and neither did Maul, though he appears far less perturbed by this information than Asajj is. Nothing before has linked Sidious to the Republic. She trusts the magicks she used to find this location, though. This is where the bondmate is being held.

Maul opens a control panel next to the ship’s door and plays around with a couple of screwdrivers, while Mando supercommandos direct their sedative gas into the ship’s pried-open air vents.

And… they’re in.

Too easy.

This was far too easy for a secret prison of the illusive Sith Lord, and Maul, apparently, thinks so too. He keeps glancing sideways at her while the supercommandos tie up the sedated soldiers outside and while they enter the ship’s galley, and he insists they shouldn’t split up.

“This location does not appear my Master’s—my former Master’s style,” he whispers in his clipped accent. “It’s neither desolate, nor are there plush red carpets. It’s not a torture dungeon.” Maul looks at Asajj, and his eyes gleam with suspicion. “If you have lied to me, you are dead. If this hurts my brother, you’ll wish you were.”

“This is the place. My sisters’ magicks are never wrong,” Asajj replies haughtily. It won’t do any good if both of them admit to their unease.

(Maul’s been vibrating faintly ever since Asajj broke into his brain to find Opress. It’s probably fear and anticipation, and most of all the superfluous awareness of him that she’s gained ever since exploiting both their bonds. Maybe he was always this high-strung.

“Someone’s attacking him,” he’d whispered to her just minutes before they reached Entralla, as if by joining their minds she had proven she cared. His eyes had been dark, agonized. In a movement that appeared entirely involuntary, he’d gripped at his neck as if looking for a pendant, and then he’d hugged himself, holding onto his torso and stomach as if his slippery entrails were ready to leak out.

Asajj had looked down and realized she was mirroring him.

When she slid her eyes half-shut, she could see the shadows of undulating metal cables.)

The ship, on the inside, just appears a standard Republic cruiser. It has a single long hallway that Asajj is pulled down by the worms in her gut, and Maul, frowning and broadcasting dread, follows.

They pass unconscious Republic clones at uneven intervals.

It’s so—ordinary. Asajj knows these ships. And there are no traps at all, just that pulsing connection drawing her forwards, shading and twisting, the memory of desolation and grief and that orange boy getting chocked (Kast’s eyes were so hard when she said, “He tried to give me his lightsaber, too, so I would have an easy time of killing him, if—when, he said, when he was used again to hurt his little brother,” that Asajj almost felt guilty) and everyone on Dathomir is dead and—

There.

She stops, and Maul comes to a halt behind her, ‘saber raised.

An open doorway, half-blocked by an armored redhead that seems vaguely familiar, and the beckoning hand of her sisters, and if Sidious doesn’t have the heart to provide a distraction for Maul then Asajj will just improvise.

“Back there, I think,” Asajj whispers, pointing at a random closed door to her left. “I can feel your brother in there.”

Maul’s eyes are wide. “I do not feel—are you sure?” he whispers, and he looks so young and hopeful bathed in the green glow he doesn’t understand and never had a right to wear that Asajj almost dares to believe her plan will work.

“I know these magicks,” Asajj drawls. “I don’t mind double-checking, but I thought you wanted him as alive as possible. He’s not doing well. Might get deep-fried at any moment, that’s not healthy for such a weak brain.”

It works. Maul bites back whatever kind of response he might have had, and he starts frantically working on slicing the door that was—her sisters are smiling upon Asajj—thankfully locked.

Asajj, meanwhile, tiptoes hurriedly forward and past the redhead—almost a decent glimpse of his head, why does she feel she knows him and—and inside the room she looks at a monster. The scene is arranged as if to mock her, a single bare cot in the middle of the room approximating a stone slab and the dimmed red electric lights a stand-in for the fire on the day she was tied to the boulder that tries to drown her. On the cot, as he was supine on the slab back then, lies unconscious Savage Opress.

Well. The used dog toy formerly known as Opress.

He’s always made her uncomfortable, even when they met. First, it was his silent bruised obsequiousness and the glances he’d shoot her after that arena fight, like he expected her to ravish him then and there just because she’d beaten him up. The sense that she’d stumbled into a world she didn’t understand drawn in silent rules and violence and sex—and Asajj has never liked that anxiety born of ignorance though she can and will tough it out and persevere, and only with the bond strangling her did she realize her stupid mistake—the sense that there was something hiding below her feet ready to devour her. He only got more obsequious and annoying after the ritual that tied Asajj to him, with his empty brainless eyes that somehow simultaneously said do whatever you want with me and I’ll kill you. She was happy to use him, if it got her traitorous ex-Master Dooku off her back, but she was at least as happy that the plan included Opress staying at Dooku’s side, not hers. Well, in the end, he was as useless as he was stupid and creepy, and Asajj had to fight Dooku on her own while Opress escaped his leash and used the power gifted to him by Talzin to harass innocent villagers and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He doesn’t have the body that Mother Talzin gave him anymore. Not that he ever deserved it.

Savage Opress, who is bound by ancient magicks to Asajj, looks like someone took his corpse and stuffed it full of a crashed spaceship debris in a desperately poor attempt at covering up an accident. The body Mother Talzin’s Dathomiri magicks gave him was stout, forceful, architected and executed with a keen eye and deep control, while whoever did this was a careless butcher. Asajj has seen carnage and pain, she’s fought and killed and maimed, and yet she has never seen anything as bestial as the body before her.

Savage Opress, who is making her share his torture through a telepathic bond, looks like a gutted carcass. This is what became of one of the three last survivors of Dathomir: worms writhe in and out of him, the things she’s been feeling like phantom maggots burrowing into her heart made real and she can see them feasting and seaming up his raw mottled shoulders and lap at the empty spots where someone tore out his hearts. He’s still conscious, though, just asleep. She can feel him feeling the worms. She can see him breathing, though he doesn’t need to, not without an intact torso. Not without hearts. She feels sick. So this is what has been calling out to her. What has been sliding into her mind, unstoppable and unwanted. This has violated her dreams.

Savage Opress, the bondmate Asajj came here to covertly murder, looks like death would be a mercy.

“Ventress, what are you playing at? The room was empty and Kenobi is here,” Maul hisses from somewhere behind her. “I told you. You’ll die for your betrayal—Savage…”

Asajj turns, expecting a fight, but Maul looks like the air was punched out of him, and he’s rooted to the doorway. The air around him tastes of abhorrence and dawning dread. He could have reached Savage before her, in her stupor—he could have jammed his ‘saber into her back—but now she’s jolted loose and ready to take her one chance at freedom.

To take mercy on Savage, for once in her life.

She drives her lightsaber into his right eye socket.

Maul’s scream behind her is vile, deeply inhuman and guttural and echoing over and over and over in the small room. It’s so loud her eye starts to hurt. His howl is the storm and the cave and the first drink in a lifetime. It’s green. It’s gentleness and sympathy he thought his Master had long driven out of the apprentice, but in teaching Savage he can’t help but refrain from using the techniques he once had endured himself. He doesn’t understand the reason—he is Sith and if he does not teach his apprentice to draw power from pain, he will have failed him. He doesn’t understand, but he feels something quake when he is called brother and when he notices he turned his back to Savage and never even expected to get hurt—he doesn’t understand, but somehow, he does. He loves Savage. Savage loves him. Maul was never meant for love, was made a weapon to be used and abused and discarded by a Master wielding power he’ll never attain, but somehow, Maul found this one person who loves him. Maul lost the person who loves him. Maul just lost him again. Maul won’t lose the person who loves him. He won’t. He can’t. He refuses. He loves—

And desperate love paints the room acid green. Greedy love tears the cot to tiny metal shreds. Unconditional love presses hot and painful into Asajj’s right eye, and she’s taking tiny measured steps toward Savage, in rhythmic unison with Maul and unstoppable no matter how hard she tries to take back her body.

Love, no matter what it takes, and both their green-bathed hands touch Savage.

All goes black.