#the appreciation and respect and enthusiasm they have for each other was so genuine

[a-lexia11]

Age of love (part 2)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Word count:Around 2k

Warning:none, just fluff.

Part 1

Based on this request.

You’ve been dating Alexia for a year now, and while your relationship is thriving, the public reaction hasn’t always been smooth sailing.

Initially, the 10-year age gap between you sparked intense debate. Some fans struggled to understand how the two of you could be together, while others were outright critical.

It was tough to navigate that scrutiny, but over time, more people began to see what you both already knew—that you complement each other perfectly.

Now, you’re recognized as more than just “Alexia’s younger girlfriend.” Fans respect you for who you are beyond the relationship.

Balancing college, a part-time job at the cafe, and your commitment to being at Alexia’s games whenever possible has earned you admiration. The fans genuinely appreciate that about you.

At one match, you overheard a fan say, “Y/N’s got it all together. She’s smart, she works hard, and she’s always there for Alexia. We love a queen for our Reina” Hearing that made you beam with pride; it felt good to know that people appreciated you.

During halftime of Alexia’s matches, social media is abuzz with tweets and comments about you. You’ve been spotted studying during games more than once, and fans have embraced that with enthusiasm.

“Can’t believe Y/N is literally studying at halftime,” one fan tweeted. “She’s an icon, honestly.”

Another post went viral, featuring a candid shot of you in the stands with your laptop open on your knees and textbooks spread around you. The caption read, “The REAL MVP,” followed by a queen emoji. It was a moment that captured your dedication, both to your studies and to supporting Alexia.

As you scrolled through your phone, reading these comments and posts, your heart swells with pride. It’s uplifting to see that people appreciate you not just as Alexia’s girlfriend, but for your own hard work, determination, and the unique path you’re forging.

Each supportive message reinforces your belief in yourself and the relationship, making all the challenges worthwhile.

——

Being at Alexia’s games has always been enjoyable, but recently, there’s been an unexpected twist—people have started asking you for pictures. At first, it completely caught you off guard.

During one of Alexia’s matches, a young fan nervously approached you at halftime. “Disculpa” the girl stammered, glancing up at you with wide eyes, “¿eres Y/N?” (Excuse me, are you Y/N?)

You blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback. “Uh, sí. Soy yo.” (Uh, yeah. That’s me)

The girl’s face lit up. “¿Puedo... puedo tomarme una foto contigo?” (Can I... can I get a picture with you?)

You felt a rush of warmth and smiled, even though the request still felt surreal. “¡Por supuesto! Me encantaría.” (Of course! I’d love to.)

As she fumbled with her phone, trying to get the camera to work, you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. You were used to standing by Alexia’s side, not being the one in the spotlight. “Aquí, déjame ayudarte con eso.” you offered, gently adjusting the phone. (Here, let me help you with that)

Once the picture was taken, the girl beamed. “¡Muchas gracias! ¡Eres increíble!” (Thank you so much! You’re amazing!)

You felt humbled by her excitement, waving goodbye as she rushed back to her friends.

Later, when you told Alexia about it, she burst into laughter.

“¡Mira a ti, cariño! ¡Ya eres famosa! Muy pronto te estarán pidiendo un autógrafo” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. (Look at you, baby! Famous already! Pretty soon, they’re gonna be asking for your autograph)

You rolled your eyes, grinning back at her. “Yeah, right. They’re here for you, superstar.”

Alexia wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer. “Maybe, but they love you too! “¿Cómo se siente ser parte del ‘club de novias famosas’?” she asked with a playful smirk. (How does it feel to be part of the ‘famous girlfriend club’?)

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Honestly? It’s still weird. I didn’t sign up for this!”

“Oh, come on! You’re a natural,” she said, nudging you playfully. “Just wait until you start getting fan mail. ‘Y/N, will you marry me?’”

You laughed, shaking your head again. “Not happening! They’ll always love you more.”

“Maybe,” Alexia said, leaning in closer, “but they appreciate you for who you are too.And it’s only a matter of time before you’re getting recognized at the grocery store. ‘¿Es Y/N? ¿La que estudia durante los partidos?’ (Is that Y/N? The one who studies during matches?)

You burst out laughing, feeling a mix of pride and disbelief. “Yeah, and I’ll be like, ‘Please, no photos while I’m buying groceries!’”

Alexia laughed along with you, wrapping you in a side hug. “Simplemente acéptalo, mi amor. ¡Ahora eres famosa!” (Just embrace it, my love. You’re famous now!)

——

Your social media following has grown since you started dating Alexia, largely because fans have loved the glimpses into your relationship. Nothing has sparked more conversation than the TikToks you've convinced Alexia to make with you.

One afternoon, you lounged on the couch scrolling through TikTok when you stumbled upon a new couple’s challenge.

Excitedly, you turned to Alexia, who was next to you, absorbed in her own phone. “Alexia, we absolutely have to try this one!” you exclaimed, your eyes shining with enthusiasm as you showed her the video.

She glanced at the screen, her expression falling. “No way. Absolutamente no. Ni siquiera entiendo cómo funcionan estas cosas.” she replied, half-joking, half-serious. (Absolutely not. I don’t even get how these things work)

You leaned closer, knowing she had a soft spot for you. “Please? It’ll be fun! I promise it’s easy.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear on her face. “Siempre dices que es fácil, y luego yo termino viéndome ridícula.” she countered, crossing her arms. (You always say it’s easy, and then I end up looking ridiculous)

You pouted playfully, knowing it usually worked on her. “You’ve never looked ridiculous! You look adorable,” you whispered, leaning in for a quick kiss.

She sighed dramatically, a small smile escaping despite herself. “Fine. But if it’s no good, it’s your fault.”

You laughed, pulling her off the couch. “Deal! Let’s do this!”

Alexia pulled out her Samsung, the same one she had been using since the Olympic Games, and you felt a wave of disgust wash over you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, scrunching your nose as you looked at the phone, its sleek design somehow still managing to irk you.

“To film?” she replied innocently, a mischievous glint in her eye, fully aware of your aversion to that phone.

“Absolutely not! Get this thing out of my face!” you exclaimed, your voice rising as you reached out to snatch the phone from her hand.

You tossed it onto the sofa with a dramatic flair, feeling a little triumphant as she huffed in response.

“no es tan malo” Alexia argued, trying to defend her beloved device. But you just shook your head, unable to contain your disdain. (it’s not that bad!)

“It’s so… I don’t know, just not you!” you insisted, crossing your arms and pouting slightly. “You’re La Reina; you shouldn’t be using that!”

She laughed, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her amusement. “¿De verdad lo odias tanto?” (You really hate it that much?)

“Yes! It’s like, why not use something cooler?” you retorted, your expression earnest as you gestured dramatically toward her phone.

“¡Está bien, está bien! Conseguiré uno nuevo, lo prometo.” she chuckled, giving in to your playful disgust. (Okay, okay! I’ll get a new one, I promise)

“Good but no more Samsungs!” you warned her.

You pulled out your phone, your beautiful phone which is not a Samsung and set it up on a tripod, you started the music and began explaining the steps.

Alexia stood next to you, looking stiff and clearly out of her element. You could see her glancing around, visibly nervous. “¿Qué pasa si me caigo?”she asked, biting her lip. (What if I trip?)

“You won’t! Just follow my lead,” you assured her, trying to stifle your laughter. “Okay, now move your arms like this.” You demonstrated a simple move, your arms flowing gracefully.

Alexia watched intently, her brows furrowed in concentration. When she tried to copy you, her arms flailed awkwardly, and you burst into laughter.

“What are you doing?” you giggled between breaths.

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “"Me veo ridícula.” (I look ridiculous!)

You reached out to reassure her. “You don’t! You’re just... unique! Here, try it again. Just feel the music.”

“¿Sentir la música?” she echoed, looking even more confused. “What does that mean?” (Feel the music?)

“Just go with the flow! Like this!” You swayed your hips, demonstrating with exaggerated flair.

Alexia tried to mimic you, but she ended up swaying stiffly, her shoulders hunched. “¿Así es como se supone que debe verse?”she asked, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. (Is this how it’s supposed to look?)

“Not quite, but it’s getting there!” you said, stifling another laugh. “Okay, that was better! But maybe try to be a little looser?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “I feel like una idiota”

You pulled her in for a quick hug. “You’re my adorable idiota! Now, let’s do it again!”

After several more attempts, Alexia finally managed to get through the challenge, though her movements remained stiff and a little awkward. You couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked trying so hard.

Once you posted the video, the comments started rolling in within hours.

“Alexia is so awkward, I love it,” one fan commented.

“She’s trying so hard, bless her,” another added.

“She’s so awkwardly hot”, another said.

You glanced over at Alexia, who was shaking her head and laughing. “They’re too nice. I’m terrible” she admitted, still slightly embarrassed.

“They love it!” you reassured her, snuggling into her side. “And so do I. You’re giving them something real to enjoy.”

“Really?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

“Absolutely! Especially when you’re moving around like a baby giraffe,” you replied with a laugh, nudging her playfully.

Alexia chuckled, finally relaxing. “Okay, maybe this was not bad. ¡Solo no me hagas hacerlo de nuevo pronto!” (Just don’t make me do it again anytime soon!)

“Deal!” you grinned knowing that you’ll definitely will make her do it again.

——

One night, after an exhilarating victory, the team invited you out to celebrate. They had come to cherish you almost as much as the fans did, and you were always included in their post-game festivities.

That night, the atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter and excitement, and you found yourself swept up in the joy of the evening.

The music thumped in the background, drinks flowed, and you felt lighter than you had in weeks. Alexia stood beside you, her laughter ringing out as she chatted animatedly with her teammates, her arm casually wrapped around your waist.

“Can you believe we won?” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

“Absolutely! You were amazing out there!” you replied, nudging her playfully.

As the night went on, the music shifted to something upbeat, and the energy in the room changed. People started dancing, letting loose, and you felt a bold urge bubbling up inside you.

Fueled by a few too many drinks, you suddenly had an idea. Climbing onto a chair, you grinned down at Alexia and the team. “Watch this!” you shouted, your voice barely cutting through the music.

Alexia raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and concern on her face. “Y/N, ¿Qué estás haciendo?” she asked, a laugh escaping her lips.(what are you doing?)

“Just having fun!” you replied, adrenaline coursing through you as you pulled off your shirt and spun it around your head screaming at the top of your lungs “Vamos chicas”

The team erupted in cheers, their voices blending into a cacophony of encouragement. Soon, others joined in, twirling their own shirts in the air.

“¡Vamos, Y/N! ¡Muéstranos lo que tienes!” Cata yelled, laughter ringing out. (Go, Y/N! Show us what you’ve got!”)

“Is this how we celebrate a win?” Alexia shook her head but couldn’t suppress her smile. “¡Vas a arrepentirte de esto por la mañana!” (You’re going to regret this in the morning!)

“Nunca!” you shouted back, fully embracing the moment, feeling like the star of the show. (Never!)

The next morning, you woke up with a headache and a sinking feeling. Groggily, you grabbed your phone and discovered that someone had recorded the entire incident.

It had already gone viral. “Y/N is a whole vibe!” the caption read, and the woso community was eating it up, sharing the video across social media.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god, I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Alexia walked in, a sly smile on her face as she saw your reaction and lied down next to you. “Asumo por tu reacción que has visto el video.”she said, laughing. “But you know what? I think it’s iconic.” (You saw the video I assume by your reaction)

“Iconic? More like embarrassing!” you grumbled, but a smile started to break through.

“Embrace it!” she nudged you playfully. “It was very funny and people like it!”

“I just hope my mom doesn’t see this,” you joked, shaking your head.

“¡Demasiado tarde! ¡Ya se lo he enviado!”Alexia teased, winking at you. (Too late! I’ve already sent it to her!)

“Noooo! You’re the worst!” You both burst into laughter, the earlier embarrassment fading as you enjoyed the moment together.

——

A few weeks later, you sat in your usual spot at one of Alexia’s matches, watching her dominate the field as always. The game was intense, and your heart raced as the clock ticked down.

In the final moments, Alexia broke free, charging toward the goal with laser focus on the ball. You held your breath, eyes glued to her as she struck the ball cleanly, sending it soaring into the back of the net.

The stadium erupted in cheers, and you jumped to your feet, screaming her name. “Alexia!”

But what happened next completely took you by surprise. Instead of her usual celebration, Alexia turned to the crowd, a huge grin on her face.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, she pulled off her jersey and spun it around her head screaming at the top of her lungs “Vamos chicas!”, imitating the move you had pulled at the party weeks before.

The crowd went absolutely wild, and Alexia received a yellow card for taking off her shirt. She just shrugged it off, clearly not caring at all.

You stood there, mouth agape, shaking your head in disbelief. “Did she really just—?”

Fans around you lost it, chanting her name and cheering. “This is amazing!” one fan yelled, while another shouted, “Alexia, you’re the best!”

Social media exploded almost immediately, with fans praising her bold new celebration. “Alexia spinning her shirt like Y/N? This is the content we live for!” one tweet said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the comments.

Later, after the game, you waited for Alexia in the tunnel, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as she approached, still buzzing from the excitement. “Really?” you asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Alexia beamed, a playful sparkle in her eyes. “What? You started it! I had to do something fun!”

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief.

She stepped closer, leaning down to give you a soft kiss. “Fue un homenaje. Para mi reina.”she whispered, her tone teasing but sincere. (It was a tribute. For my queen)

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth in your chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Alexia laughed, pulling you into a tight hug. “Solo para ti. ¡Ahora todos recordarán nuestra celebración!” (Only for you. Now everyone will remember our celebration!)

You looked up at her and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “La próxima vez, haré una voltereta. A ver cómo logras ese tributo.” you murmured against her lips, causing Alexia to laugh. (Next time, I’ll do a backflip.Let’s see how you’ll manage that tribute)

You both walked out together, the excitement of the match still buzzing around you, feeling grateful for moments like these.

FIN

[opshizt]

the latest interview of the straw hats by collider made me fall in love with the cast more!! seeing their overflowing chemistry during the interview is already a great success so far. the way they hype each other and appreciate every person involved in the making of the live action was very wholesome. iñaki, mackenyu, emily, jacob, and taz mentioned some of the best things regarding their portrayal of their respective characters. like you can really feel the straw hats energy that radiates from them. how they carry themselves as the straw hats cast is what makes me very excited to see what's stored for the live action. it's gonna be awesome to experience one piece with them at the helm for real!!!

[liorae]

Whisking Up Memories ୨୧ 𝓚im 𝓢unoo

pair: college!sunoo x fem!reader | genre: fluff, old friends reunited | warning(s): kissing | wc: 946 | synopsis: you reunite with your old childhood friend at a cooking class.

The cooking class kitchen buzzes with excitement, the air filled with the inviting aroma of various spices and fresh ingredients. You glance around, noticing the mix of novices and enthusiasts at their respective cooking stations. Suddenly, your eyes land on a familiar face—Kim Sunoo, your childhood best friend. You hadn't seen each other since you were kids, and the sight of him brings a rush of nostalgia.

"Sunoo?" you call out, a mix of surprise and joy in your voice.

He turns, his eyes widening in recognition. "Is that really you?" he exclaims, rushing over to you. You both laugh and hug, the years melting away in an instant.

"I can't believe we're in the same class!" you say, still amazed.

"Fate has a funny way of working," Sunoo replies, his smile as bright as ever. Both of you are slightly nervous but equally excited for the adventure ahead.

The instructor starts explaining the recipe for the evening: a three-course meal consisting of a fresh garden salad, homemade pasta, and a decadent chocolate mousse. You exchange glances with Sunoo, determined to make the best of this experience.

Starting with the salad, you both fumble with the vegetables. Sunoo accidentally drops a cucumber on the floor, and you burst into laughter, the initial tension easing. You work together to slice and mix the ingredients, catching up on each other’s lives.

"So, what have you been up to all these years?" Sunoo asks, genuinely curious.

You share stories of high school, hobbies, and dreams, and Sunoo reciprocates with tales of his own adventures. The memories of your childhood come flooding back, and you reminisce about the old times, each shared memory bringing you closer.

"Remember that treehouse we built in my backyard?" Sunoo grins, his eyes sparkling with the memory.

"Oh, the one we said would be our secret hideout? How could I forget? We spent countless hours there, pretending to be pirates," you laugh, feeling a warmth spread through you at the memory.

Next up is the pasta, and the challenges continue. Sunoo struggles with the dough, while you try to figure out the pasta machine. Despite your clumsiness, you manage to create a decent batch of pasta, learning and improving as a team. The kitchen fills with your laughter and playful banter, the experience becoming more enjoyable with each step.

"You're still a bit of a klutz, huh?" you tease as Sunoo nearly drops a bowl of flour.

"Some things never change," he replies with a sheepish grin. Just as you're feeling proud of your teasing, you accidentally knock over a jar of spices, spilling them everywhere.

"Looks like I'm not the only one," Sunoo laughs, and you join in, the sound of your laughter mingling with the bustling noise of the kitchen.

By the time you reach the chocolate mousse, you and Sunoo are working in perfect sync. You take turns whisking and folding, your hands occasionally brushing, sparking a subtle, mutual attraction. When you finally present your dishes to the instructor, you feel a sense of accomplishment, but it quickly turns to disappointment as the ratings are lower than expected.

You feel a bit of defeat as the instructor moves on. Sunoo rubs your hand gently, his touch reassuring. "Don't worry, we'll get better. That's why we're taking this class, right?" His optimism is infectious, and you find yourself smiling again.

Then, Sunoo's face lights up like a bulb as he gets an idea. "Why don't we try making the dishes again at my place? It'll be quieter and cozier."

You laugh lightheartedly, appreciating his enthusiasm. "That sounds perfect."

At Sunoo's house, the atmosphere is much more relaxed. Soft music plays in the background, blending with the oddly comforting sound of traffic below his apartment window. Without the pressure of a time limit, you work more at ease, and your movements become more synchronized, almost instinctual. There’s little to no mess or mistakes this time.

Sunoo takes a few moments to admire you as you work, his eyes lingering on your concentrated expression. He had missed you a lot, to say the least. You're whisking when you realize Sunoo isn't making any noise. You look over and catch him admiring you.

"Enjoying the view?" you tease, a playful smirk on your lips.

Sunoo blushes, quickly trying to cover up. "I was just...making sure you weren't about to spill anything again."

"Sure you were," you laugh, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sight of his embarrassed smile.

Another thirty minutes of conversation and fun pass until you two finish making the meal. You both try it and agree that the outcome is much better than your previous attempt. Suddenly, a song you love starts playing.

"I love this song!" you exclaim, your eyes lighting up.

Sunoo laughs, nodding. "I do too." He gives you a cheesy grin and asks, "Would you like to dance with me?"

You laugh in a playful manner, filled with love, and agree. As you dance, the room seems to shrink around you, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of happiness. After the dance, you both stop to stare at each other, taking in each other’s features. It's a moment of pure adoration. Sunoo leans in, and you follow his lead, sharing a sweet, short kiss.

He pulls away, instantly apologizing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

Before he can finish, you pull him back for one more kiss, this time more passionate and filled with the emotions you've been holding back. The pace picks up, and you lose yourselves in the moment, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

[mechaknight-98]

Snow-Day FT: Song Hayoung

Authors note: A cute little fluff for one of my favorite Fromis_9 girls

"Babe, wake up! It's snowing outside," Hayoung, your girlfriend, exclaims with excitement. Slowly, you pry open your eyes to find her beaming face hovering above you, her big brown eyes filled with elation. With a gentle push, you coax her off you, the warmth of her presence lingering as you rise from bed. As you stand, your gaze falls upon Hayoung, dressed in a cozy gray sweater, a sleek black leather jacket, and her beloved beret perched atop her head, perfectly complementing her cute black skirt. With a contented sigh, you gather her into a hug, reveling in the affectionate exchange until her restless energy prompts her to squirm with excitement.

"Come on, get a shower and get dressed so we can enjoy the snow," Hayoung urges eagerly, her words tumbling out in rapid succession. Smiling at her infectious enthusiasm, you acquiesce, moving to fulfill her request.

You proceed with your morning routine, enjoying a leisurely shower, selecting warm clothing, and indulging in a light breakfast before joining Hayoung outside. However, your peaceful transition to the snowy outdoors is abruptly interrupted as a snowball smacks into you just three steps beyond the threshold. Letting out a resigned sigh, you brush the frozen remnants off your vibrant red scarf, your beanie snugly affixed to your head.

Turning towards Hayoung, you playfully quip, "Oh, is that how it's going to be?" With a mischievous grin, you begin crafting a snowball of your own, gloved hands expertly molding the icy ammunition. As you ready your retaliatory strike, Hayoung forms another snowball, poised for action. With a swift toss, you launch your snowball towards her, causing her to flinch and drop hers in surprise. She returns your gaze with an excited yet competitive glint in her eye, fully embracing the challenge.

What follows is a spirited snowball skirmish, initially lighthearted but swiftly escalating in intensity as both you and Hayoung immerse yourselves in the fray. Each throw becomes more strategic, each dodge more calculated, fueled by the competitive fire that burns within both of you. However, as the battle rages on, the realization dawns that there are other obligations awaiting you both beyond this playful snowbound duel.

A mutual understanding ensues, and the intensity gradually ebbs, leading to a truce—a stalemate born not of surrender, but of mutual respect and the recognition of other responsibilities that beckon. As you both reluctantly set aside your snowy rivalry, the memory of this spirited encounter lingers, a testament to the boundless joy and camaraderie shared between you and Hayoung amidst the winter wonderland. your lovely girlfriend latches onto you as the two of you head for her Label.

Before stepping inside, you pause and lean in to whisper to Hayoung, "Gosh, I can't wait until you're free from Pledis so you can do what you want."

Her reaction is immediate, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face.

"I know this hasn't been ideal, but they've been good to me. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk badly about them," Hayoung responds, her tone firm.

You let out a resigned sigh, acknowledging her perspective.

"It never fails to amaze me how you can put up with them," you remark to her with a mix of admiration and bewilderment.

"Well, without Pledis, I wouldn't have met my favorite English tutor and boyfriend," Hayoung retorts, her gaze fixed on you. Your smile is genuine as you meet her eyes.

"Okay, fair point," you concede, recognizing the positive outcomes amidst the challenges.

As Hayoung clings to your arm tightly, you both ascend to the office. After dropping her off at her practice room, you set off to fetch food for the two of you. While outside, you encounter Le Sserafim. Sakura, noticing you as she usually does due to your resemblance to her boyfriend Daigo, greets you warmly.

"Hey guys," you greet them politely, receiving smiles from the Le Sserafim members. Sakura is the only one who seems to register your presence, her attention momentarily diverted from her companions.

"How are you, Danzabourou-san?" Sakura inquires.

"I'm good. And how about you? Are you and Daihirou still doing well?" you ask. Sakura nods with a smile.

"He's currently waiting for me at the hotel. He's here for a couple more days before he goes back to the States," Sakura explains.

"That's nice of him to come out for your birthday," you remark warmly. Sakura nods emphatically before bidding farewell as the rest of the Le Sserafim girls depart.

After grabbing food from a nearby noodle shop, you return to the practice area and distribute the meals. Seoyeon and Chaeyoung express their gratitude with cheerful thanks, to which you respond with a silent thumbs up before seeking out a quiet spot to enjoy your meal. You find a secluded spot with a panoramic view of the cityscape, the snowflakes descending gracefully against the urban backdrop. As you savor your meal, the rhythmic tapping of footsteps interrupts the tranquil ambiance.

"Yo, Hayoung, you did?" you inquire casually without turning around, captivated by the serene scene unfolding before you.

"Yeah, we just needed to work on a couple of dance practices and film some TikToks," Hayoung responds, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. Intrigued, you swivel around to face her, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Ah, so that means we'll finally be able to settle our unfinished snowball battle," you declare with a wicked grin. However, your playful anticipation is cut short by a sudden sneeze from Hayoung, causing your expression to shift instantly into concern. Your protective instincts kick in as you enter "overprotective significant other mode," a role you and Hayoung seamlessly slip in and out of. You watch as the tip of her nose becomes red, your decision is swift and unwavering.

"Nope, young lady, we're going back home," you assert firmly, your tone brooking no argument.

"No, I'm fine," Hayoung protests weakly, but you remain resolute, knowing the consequences of her falling ill.

"I don't want you getting sick on my watch. Gyuri and Saerom would never let me hear the end of it. So, we're going home to do that thing you like," you insist, a plan already forming in your mind.

Hayoung's eyes light up with anticipation as she catches on to your hint. "Bubble bath?" she ventures excitedly, seeking confirmation. With a nod from you, the decision is made, and together you head home.

Before entering, however, you veer off to the side, a mischievous spark igniting within you. Craftily, you gather some snow, forming it into a compact snowball. As Hayoung comes looking for you, unsuspecting, you launch an icy surprise at her with a playful grin. Her laughter fills the air as the two of you engage in another impromptu snowball skirmish.

[essaytime]

I think the main thing that absolutely infuriates me about the "Romeo and Juliet were just dumb, horny teens" take is this implication that because they were so young, their relationship had to boil down to them being dramatic and inventing some great romance to moan about, or lust and hormones. As a teenager, it makes me want to tear the speaker apart with my bare hands. Interchangeably with stabbing, maybe.

When you look at the text, you can clearly see that there is some emotional connection between Juliet and Romeo. Their first conversation is literally a sonnet - which already indicates some sort of understanding and mutuality, and it's also beautiful poetry. They are the only characters in the entire play that they are really fully comfortable talking to. The adults are caught up in the feud, Nurse loves Juliet, but cannot understand her (and makes a dirty joke at her expense in Act I, which for a person Juliet's age would be awfully unpleasant), Romeo's friends, though I Iove them, don't get his sensitivity - Mercutio laughing at it and Benvolio worried by it - which Juliet, in turn, appreciates. They speak of each other with respect and admiration, quite unusually in Verona, where all is conflict and even Juliet's own father insults her: look at the sonnet, the balcony scene, Romeo comparing his sweetheart to the sun or a jewel (in contrast to his earlier quotes about Rosaline, which are literally a compilation of clichés stacked on top of one another). Even when Juliet awaits their wedding night, in a speech clearly centered on sexual matters, there is a visible softness and affection with which she treats Romeo ("cut him out in little stars"...). She waits for the night because it's him, not "I want to sleep with someone because I want to sleep with someone". The two genuinely care about each other, and are fond of each other. Of course, we can wonder if this love would last if they were given an opportunity to grow older, but when the play takes place, this love is there, and it's beautiful.

(Off-topic, I'd also like to note that this is an Elizabethan play that takes place in even earlier times, presumably late medieval - early renaissance Italy. They wouldn't live in the modern world where you can date many different people and settle well into your thirties or fourties. The average marriage age for girls in Shakespeare's time was about twenty, in fifteenth century Florence it was eighteen. Both of them were from wealthy families, so they'd likely be expected - even if Juliet's parents did not force her into a marriage with Paris - to marry earlier, for financial and political purposes. There couldn't be a "growing older" like we imagine it. Even their hypothetical different relationships would be early relationships for today's standards)

And it makes my blood boil when the visible genuine bond between these two is reduced to just "dumb kids being horny". The motive behind these words being partly, of course, the high-school-acquired All Required Reading is Nonsense edginess, but also a deeper issue - the inability to comprehend the fact that teenage love is also often real love.

Being capable of having deep and meaningful romantic relationships does not come baked into your birthday cake when you turn eighteen or attached to your first ever bill. Not every single feeling a teenager might harbour is at its core shallow lust and wanting to get laid. Of course, there's lots of cases of shortsighted infatuation where the pair really have nothing in common! I could name at least a few examples I have seen personally. But still, on every street and every corner of the world, and often a few metres from these pointless infatuations, teens fall in love because there's something more to it. Because they find they have a lot in common, because they get along well with each other, because they are able to see the good in the other person - their kindness, their intelligence, their enthusiasm, you name it. "Teens" including the younger teens, from thirteen to fifteen. And this love is a deep emotional bond. Sure, in most cases it will not last until death (and to be honest, relationships not working out is not really a teenage-specific phenomenon and a sign that young love of all is inherently doomed and it has to die so the curse of growing up is fulfilled), but it doesn't make it less of a love when it still remains, and it includes all the things love is about. Young couples go on dates, and have fun. They confide in each other. They support each other through hard times, they show care, they sometimes make sacrifices for their loved one's good. As any person in love does, at any age.

When I fell in love four months ago, I did not fall in love because I wanted to sleep with someone so bad. In fact, I do not want to - not for the next several years. I realise it's something I might want someday, but it's not today; and above all, I'm way too young. If anything, what I want is to kiss someone, or run my fingers through his hair, or read with his head in my lap - but it's not something I'd go out of my way and date a random person to get, come on. I fell in love because he is actually the first boy that reminds me of myself so much, the first I can understand so well. Because I also have a penchant for history and writing, I also tend to use formal and flowery language in very informal situations, I also enjoy people's attention (though I seem to worry more about being a potential inconvenience than he does), I also believe that we should judge people as individuals, because there's too much nuance in one person to make proper statements about large groups - and I find in him so many things that I can relate to, though of course I can't say I know him well enough to speak much for sure. Besides, he's simply a wonderful person, not flawless, of course, but he has a good heart. He is always kind, and well-mannered, and intelligent, and you can laugh with him. I think he would care if something bad happened, no matter if he says that he wouldn't. I think I know him well enough to say this at least. And if he loved me back (a thing I consider unlikely for now, but not entirely impossible), would we stay together forever? Heaven alone knows! Maybe not! It is up to the higher power. But even if we broke up, that wouldn't erase the fact that I loved him, and I would have done a lot for him, and we were able to have meaningful conversations. Just because a love isn't forever, doesn't mean it was never there.

Because - what the "dumb kids" people don't seem to grasp - teenagers are also human beings with a functioning, even if not fully developed, brain, capable of having complex feelings and thoughts just like an adult. Note that Shakespeare's leads, at least Juliet, actually do that - hence the pre-wedding night monologue, the "deny thy father and refuse thy name", her statement (I don't know the English original of that one, to be honest) that she is too soft and loving towards Romeo already, but it's because she has such profound feelings for him she can't even pretend to be strict. It's noticeable that she has some emotional maturity, at least - she shows some critical thinking abilities, she understands the consequences of many actions, she is able to see that the feud is pointless and a name is just a name. She's a teenager, and someone in their teens is also a Homo sapiens specimen, not a being from a different planet. Teens think and feel. It might not be the same reality as the adult one, and they don't deal with emotions with such ease as an adult would, but that doesn't mean they are unable to truly love and care, to enjoy talking to someone and want the best for them, like grown-ups do - as developing an affection for someone that makes you happy is a very human thing, and I can guarantee you a thirteen or fourteen-year-old is a developed enough human being to experience it.

So, to sum it up, if I hear any "Romeo and Juliet were just dumb kids being horny" on my watch, the author of this statement will presumably be mercilessly killed, and then I'll do as Fulvia allegedly did to Cicero and stab something through their tongue, except instead of a hairpin, I'll probably use one of the darts my little brother got for Christmas. They are very sharp. We have several holes in the floor already.

[ateez-ana]

lie detector recap

-now you are watching lie detector recap by @atinylatsub on youtube-

#intro/

hi guys welcome to a new video today I will present "matz line being a disaster for 3 minutes"With nothing more to say let's start with the video

#clip1

The three oldest members of Ateez are sitting at a table with the lie detector, the first to answer the questions is Seonghwa

 'Seonghwa, is it true that the eldest are actually awkward around each other?' ana ask the boy, Seonghwa, not wanting to admit the truth, replied, 'No, of course not. We're as comfortable as can be.'

The machine started beeping, indicating that Seonghwa was indeed lying,Hongjoong's eyes widened in shock, and he burst out laughing.

'Seonghwa, you liar! You totally are awkward around us!' Ana joined in on the laughter, doubling over as she clutched her stomach. 'I can't believe you tried to deny it! You're always so serious and formal around us, it's hilarious!' Seonghwa, looking embarrassed, tried to defend himself. 'I am not! I'm just being respectful.'

Ana, meanwhile, had dissolved into a fit of giggles. 'Oh, Seonghwa, you're so transparent!'

'Transparent?!' Seonghwa spluttered. 'It's just... I’m not used to the… the... enthusiasm.'

'Enthusiasm?' Hongjoong scoffed, throwing his hands up in mock despair. 'Is that what you call Ana's contagious energy and my… my… *passion* for life?'

'Passion,' Ana deadpanned, her laughter echoing through the room.

The three of them started to argue, with Seonghwa insisting that he wasn't awkward and Hongjoong and Ana playfully teasing him. The crew, who was filming the exchange, couldn't help but laugh at the scene unfolding before him.

#clip2

 'Alright, let's move on to our next question. Hongjoong, do you love your fellow eldest members?' Seonghwa ask the boy next to him

Hongjoong, with a dramatic sigh, looked directly at the camera. 'Of course, I love them. They're my family.'

'BEEEEP!'

The lie detector, once again, betrayed him. Ana and Seonghwa, simultaneously, gasped.

'You… you don't love us?' Ana choked out, her eyes wide and hurt playfully ask the boy. Seonghwa, who had been trying to stifle a laugh, now burst into full-fledged hysterics. 'You're telling me you don't love us Hongjoong, who's been trying to eat our food ever since we debuted?'

'It's not like that!' Hongjoong protested, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. 'I just… I just…something its wrong with the machine You didn’t do anything to the detector, right?' He trailed off, unable to formulate a coherent lie.

'See?' Ana chimed in, her voice dripping with mock indignation. 'He doesn't love us! I've known it all along!'

'Well, clearly,' Seonghwa said, still chuckling. 'He's just trying to hide his true feelings of…terror.' 'Terror?' Hongjoong sputtered, his face turning even redder. 'Why would I be terrified of you two?' Ana, however, was done with the charade. 'Okay, guys, enough. The truth is, Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you two… you don't love me!'

#clip3

For the final question, the hongjoong asked Ana if she loved Seonghwa and Him. Ana answered with a genuine 'yes' and the lie detector didn't beep.

The other two members were stunned, and Ana took the opportunity to point out that they never showed her any love in return.

Yes!' Ana declared, her eyes gleaming with mock defiance. 'From now on, I'm going to focus my love on the other members. They appreciate me more!'

leaving the two eldest members to stare at each other in stunned silence.The crew, meanwhile, was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

#clip4 (ana questions)

Hongjoong: Alright, Ana, first question: 'I'm confident of winning No. 1 with Wonderland as we did with Wave.' Truth or lie?

Ana, looking straight into the camera, her face a canvas of confidence, 'Of course! I mean, have you seen the choreography, the song, the whole package? We're gonna smash it!'

The lie detector beeped, a steady rhythm indicating...well, a lie. The camera crew exchanged a delighted glance, a wave of anticipation hitting them like a tidal wave.

Seonghwa, eyebrow arched, “Ana, the truth hurts, but it hurts less than the hat you’re going to wear.'

"I have a backup plan. I'll wear this ridiculous hat and sing 'Wonderland' in front of the entire fandom"

Hongjoong:Not bad!

Seonghwa: I can't wait to see that. What color hat would you wear for your 'Wonderland' performance?

Ana:Neon pink, complete with matching glitter glasses.

#clip5

Seonghwa: Right, next questionbI have a dream brand I want to be the ambassador for?

Ana's Answer: I want to be the face of... *drumroll*... Lovecraft Couture!

Hongjoong: Lovecraft Couture? Isn't that horror-themed?

Ana: I'm a creature of the night.

Seonghwa: We should get you some fangs and a cape.

Result: Truth

What kind of outfit would you wear for a Lovecraft Couture shoot?

Ana: A flowing black gown, with tentacles creeping up my arms. I'll channel my inner Cthulhu.

#clip6

Hongjoong: If I were to be born again, I would still choose to be ATEEZ, you're going to be in trouble if you lie on this one

Ana's Answer:100% without a doubt! ATEEZ is my family, my brothers, my everything. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Hongjoong: Aww, that's so sweet.

Seonghwa: We love you too, Ana.

Ana looks at the boy with amused disbelief in her eyes "We literally realized that it's not true in this test, maybe the others do but you two nah"

[panakinthedisco]

PART 2 | TICKET TO RIDE ━━ Joel Miller

summary: becoming the president of the class is the most stressful thing that joel miller ever did in his life but then, you made it bearable.

author's note: i'm shookt with the amount of likes with this mini-series huhu so here you go! if it's your first time in here, please read the part 1 of this series <3

other notes: au, elementary teacher!reader x contractor!joel,  no outbreak!joel miller, sarah lives, single dad x teacher, eventual smut but this is a slow burn romance, maybe angst? reader is a fan of the beatles and a mccartney girlie while joel is a george harrison stannie! age gap (reader is in the middle of 20s x joel miller in his 30s), sarah being a cute matchmaker to her dad!

word count: 4.4k

A few days had passed since the PTA meeting, and you were still adjusting to your new life in Austin, Texas. The town was unfamiliar to you, and the job offer had been the only one available at the time. Thankfully, your cousin lived in Austin and had kindly offered you a place to stay. The apartment wasn’t large, but it was cozy and gave you a sense of security in this new environment.

Settling into your new role at the school, you found that the staff and students were welcoming. The school itself had a warm, community-driven atmosphere that you appreciated. Your class was manageable, and you even began to grow fond of your students. They were eager to learn and showed respect in the classroom, which made your job easier and more enjoyable.

One student, in particular, stood out to you: Sarah Miller. She had a natural curiosity for science and was always eager to help. During science classes, Sarah often assisted you in arranging the flasks and beakers on the shelf, her enthusiasm evident in the way she carefully handled each piece of equipment.

One afternoon, as you were setting up for a lab experiment, Sarah approached with a smile. “Do you need any help?”

You returned her smile warmly. “That would be great, Sarah. Could you please arrange these beakers on the top shelf?”

Sarah nodded and began to carefully place the beakers in their designated spots. As she worked, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for her assistance. It made the transition into your new role smoother and less overwhelming.

“How are you finding Austin so far?” Sarah asked, her voice full of genuine curiosity.

You paused for a moment, considering your response. “It’s been an adjustment, but I’m starting to feel more at home. My cousin has been a huge help, and the school is wonderful. I really enjoy teaching here.”

Sarah beamed. “I’m glad to hear that! You’re a great teacher. Everyone in class really likes you.”

Her words warmed your heart. “Thank you, Sarah. That means a lot to me.”

As Sarah carefully placed the beakers on the shelf, you couldn’t help but notice how meticulous and dedicated she was. Her assistance was invaluable, making your adjustment to the new job much smoother. You watched her for a moment, grateful for her help and impressed by her enthusiasm.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder at you, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Have you had a chance to visit any places around Texas yet?”

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Not really, Sarah. I haven’t had much time to explore. The only place I’ve really been to is the grocery store near my apartment.”

Sarah giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know, there’s a great place for horseback riding just a mile away from here. My dad has a truck, and we go there sometimes. Would you like to join us?”

Her suggestion took you by surprise. It felt a bit unusual to be invited out by a student, especially since you were still getting to know them. You felt a mix of flattery and apprehension, unsure how to respond.

“That’s very kind of you, Sarah,” you said politely. “I’ll think about it.”

Sarah nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but you could see the gears turning in her mind. She returned to her task, her expression thoughtful.

Internally, Sarah was plotting. She adored you and knew her dad had been lonely for a long time. What better way to help both of them than by arranging a casual outing? She envisioned them enjoying a day out, her dad relaxing and having fun, and you, seeing a new side of Texas. Maybe, just maybe, her plan would help bring a bit of happiness into both of your lives.

As you continued to prepare for the lab experiment, you couldn’t help but think about Sarah’s suggestion. The idea of horseback riding sounded fun, but the prospect of spending time with Sarah and her father outside of school felt a bit strange. You appreciated the gesture, though, and couldn’t deny a small part of you was curious about the experience.

Later, as you walked around the classroom, checking on the students and ensuring everything was in place, you found yourself thinking more about the invitation. Sarah’s enthusiasm was infectious, and her desire to share her favorite activities with you was touching.

As the day went on, you decided to keep an open mind. You could see how much Sarah cared about both her father and her teacher, and maybe this outing could be a chance to bond with her and better understand the community you were becoming a part of.

“Alright, everyone, time to wrap up,” you announced, bringing the class to a close. As the students gathered their things and prepared to leave, Sarah gave you a bright smile, and you couldn’t help but return it, feeling a sense of warmth and connection.

As you watched the students file out of the classroom, a wave of mixed emotions washed over you. The hustle and bustle of the day was winding down, and you found yourself alone with your thoughts. The adjustment to life in Austin had been challenging, to say the least. Moving away from your parents was a difficult decision, but the job offer had seemed like a beacon of hope at the time. Now, you weren't so sure.

Loneliness had become an unwelcome companion over the past few weeks. Your parents had been supportive, encouraging you with words of wisdom and confidence, assuring you that you could thrive on your own. But their words felt distant in the face of your current reality. Each day felt like a test of endurance, and even the small victories were overshadowed by an overwhelming sense of isolation.

The faculty room, a place that should have been a source of camaraderie and support, only intensified your feelings of being an outsider. You were the youngest among your colleagues, and their close-knit conversations left you feeling invisible during break times. They had their routines, their inside jokes, and you often found yourself on the periphery, unsure of how to break into their circle.

Your thoughts drifted back to Sarah Miller. She had been a ray of sunshine in an otherwise cloudy experience. Her genuine kindness and eagerness to help had been a lifeline. When she invited you to go horseback riding with her and her father, it had been the first time anyone in Austin had reached out to you in such a personal way. The invitation felt like a small crack in the wall of loneliness that had been building around you.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair, staring at the now-empty classroom. The idea of spending time with Sarah and her father was starting to seem more appealing. Maybe it was a chance to break out of your shell, to connect with the community, and to find a sense of belonging that you desperately needed.

"Why not give it a try?" you thought to yourself. "It’s just an afternoon, and it could be fun."

The image of Sarah’s bright smile flashed in your mind, and you felt a flicker of hope. Her invitation was a small gesture, but it held the potential to change the trajectory of your experience in Austin. Maybe, just maybe, it was a step toward finding the connections and support that you had been yearning for since your move.

You packed your things, the classroom now quiet and still. As you walked out, you made a silent promise to yourself: you would accept Sarah’s invitation.

Life as a teacher continued for you. The final bell rang, and the bustling energy of students packing their bags and heading out the door filled the classroom. You busied yourself with tidying up, ensuring everything was in place for the next day. As you straightened the books on your desk, you glanced up and were surprised to see Joel Miller standing in the doorway.

Your eyes quickly took in his appearance—typical flannel shirt, worn out jeans, and work boots covered in a thin layer of dust. He looked as though he had come straight from a job site. Despite his rugged appearance, there was a certain warmth in his eyes that you found comforting. You gave him a friendly smile.

"Mr. Miller, come on in," you said, motioning him into the classroom.

Joel stepped inside, looking slightly out of place in the tidy, structured environment of the classroom. Just as he was about to speak, Sarah and her friends came up behind him, chattering and laughing.

"Hey, Dad," Sarah greeted, a playful glint in her eye. "I’m going to hang out with Maddie for a bit."

Joel turned to her, a familiar, fatherly concern in his voice. "Alright, but remember, Uncle Tommy is picking you up before dinner. Don’t be late."

Sarah nodded, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Got it, Dad." Then, she glanced at you and back at her father, her smile growing wider. "And Dad, don’t forget to shoot your shot."

Joel looked momentarily confused, his brows furrowing. But then he caught the way Sarah glanced at you, and understanding dawned on his face. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he turned back to his daughter, trying to maintain his composure.

"Sarah, you need to go," he said firmly, though his tone was tinged with embarrassment.

Sarah laughed, a light, carefree sound, and gave him a quick hug before skipping off to join her friends. You watched her go, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Turning your attention back to Joel, you could see he was still slightly flustered by his daughter’s teasing. You decided to break the ice.

"So, you’re here for the field trip plans, Mr. Miller?" you asked, keeping your tone light.

Joel scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile forming on his lips. “You can call me Joel, Ma’am. And yes, here are the plans.” Joel handed you over a piece of paper, and it’s handwritten by him. Ever since the PTA meeting where he was elected class president, the responsibility had weighed heavily on him. He had no idea how to organize a field trip, and the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of you, the new teacher. Earlier, Joel sat at the dining room table, papers strewn about in a chaotic mess. He rubbed his temples, staring at the tentative plans for the upcoming field trip.

His brother, Tommy, wandered into the room, a look of confusion on his face. "What’s got you all riled up, brother?" he asked, eyeing the disarray on the table.

Before Joel could respond, Sarah chimed in, a knowing smirk on her face as she drank her hot cocoa. "Dad’s trying to impress the new teacher," she said, not bothering to hide her amusement.

Tommy's eyebrows shot up, and he plopped down beside Joel, his expression turning into one of playful mischief. "Is that so? Trying to impress the teacher, huh?"

Joel sighed, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "It's not like that," he muttered defensively. "I'm just trying to get these plans sorted out. Also, she seems younger, you know?"

Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the back. "You’re making excuses, man. I’ve never seen you this worked up about anything before. Sounds to me like you’re more interested in her than you’re letting on."

Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "She's just trying to do her job, and I don't want to make things harder for her. That's all."

Sarah giggled, leaning against the doorframe. "Sure, Dad. Whatever you say."

Tommy leaned back in his chair, still grinning. "Look, Joel, it’s okay to admit you find her interesting. But you can’t stress yourself out over this. We’ll help you figure it out. It’s just a field trip. Goddamn, you’re a lot more stingy to this rather than talking to the grumpy old man across the street that you almost cussed out."

Joel glanced at his brother and daughter, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. He appreciated their support, even if their teasing was relentless. "Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Let’s figure this out together."

They spent the next hour brainstorming ideas, Tommy throwing out suggestions with his usual carefree attitude while Sarah chimed in with practical advice. Slowly, the plans started to take shape. Joel felt the tension in his shoulders ease as they worked through the details. At least, he had an initial idea for your class’ field trip. 

As the last of the students filtered out of the classroom, Sarah gave her father a mischievous grin before heading off with her friends. Joel watched her go, feeling a mix of pride and trepidation. Once the room was quiet, he turned his attention back to you, taking a deep breath. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you.

"This is, uh, the rough draft of the field trip plans," he said, his voice a bit strained with nerves.

You took the paper with a warm smile and gestured to an empty chair nearby. "Why don’t you grab a seat Mr. Miller? We can go over this together."

“You can just call me Joel, Maam,” you nodded and looked through the paper. 

Joel hesitated for a moment, but then he dragged the chair over and sat down beside you. You unfolded the paper, smoothing it out on your desk, and pulled out a pink ballpen from your pocket. 

His eyes shifted from the paper to the colorful array of pens spilling out of your pencil case. The case itself was decorated with playful designs and a few strips of washi tape, each adding a personal touch that he found unexpectedly charming. He watched as you reached for your pink ballpen, your fingers deftly maneuvering it as you made notes on his rough draft.

As you started scribbling on the paper, Joel’s brow furrowed, a look of concern crossing his face. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You looked up, noticing his apprehension. "Oh, no! It’s just a habit of mine," you explained with a reassuring smile. "I like to doodle while I think. Helps me focus."

Joel nodded, relaxing slightly. He watched as you continued to make notes. 

He couldn't help but smile as he observed your methodical yet creative approach. The pink ink swirled across the paper, punctuated by little stars and hearts that danced around your comments and suggestions. Joel was taken aback by how much personality you injected into such a simple task. It was endearing.

As he continued to watch, he found his gaze drifting towards you. He tried to be subtle, but his eyes traced the curve of your hand as it moved, the way your brow furrowed in concentration, and the gentle way you bit your lip when you were deep in thought. There was something soothing about your presence, a quiet confidence that he hadn't expected.

Joel's attention was momentarily drawn to the scent of vanilla that wafted towards him every time you moved. It was light and sweet, complementing the warmth of the room and adding another layer to the growing sense of comfort he felt in your company.

He shifted in his seat, trying to focus back on the task at hand, but his eyes kept returning to you. The way the afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, catching the strands of your hair and casting a soft glow around you, made it hard to look away. He was struck by how natural and unassuming you were, yet there was an undeniable spark that drew him in.

As you scribbled another note, you looked up, catching Joel's intent gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air thick with unspoken words. You broke the silence with a warm smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "You okay, Joel?" you asked, your voice soft and kind.

Joel cleared his throat, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. "Yeah, just... watching you work. It's impressive."

You laughed lightly, “Thanks, Joel.”

Returning to the paper, you continued making notes, occasionally glancing up at Joel to ensure he was following along. He tried to focus, but his mind kept drifting back to the little details—the pink pen, the vanilla scent, the way you looked so at ease in your element.

After a few minutes, you paused, tapping the pen thoughtfully against your chin.

"I really like your idea of taking the kids somewhere engaging and interactive," you said, turning to look at him. "Rather than just going to a zoo or a museum, something hands-on will be much more memorable for them."

Joel’s eyes widened in surprise. "You really think so? I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea."

You nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. Kids learn best when they’re actively involved. It’s a great way to make the experience more meaningful."

Joel felt a swell of pride at your words. He had spent hours agonizing over those plans, and hearing your approval was incredibly validating. "Thanks," he said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "That means a lot."

You returned his smile, your eyes twinkling with encouragement. "We’ll just need to iron out a few details, like permissions and logistics, but overall, I think you’re on the right track."

Joel leaned in closer, his confidence growing. "Alright, let’s do this then."

For the next half hour, the two of you worked together, discussing various aspects of the field trip. You appreciated Joel’s practical insights and his willingness to listen to your suggestions. He sat beside you at the small, cluttered desk in the classroom, the map of Austin spread out between you. His rough draft of the field trip plans was covered with your colorful scribbles, and now you were both leaning over the map, discussing potential locations.

"What about this park?" Joel suggested, pointing to a green area on the map. "It's got a nice picnic area and some trails. The kids might enjoy that."

You nodded thoughtfully, considering the idea. "That sounds great. It would be good for them to have some outdoor time."

As you both continued brainstorming, you glanced up from the map and remembered something Sarah had mentioned earlier. "You know," you began, "Sarah mentioned something about horseback riding. She invited me to come along with you two."

Joel's eyes widened in surprise. "She did? What exactly did she say?"

You smiled, recounting the conversation. "She said you have a truck and that there's a place just a mile away. She thought it would be fun if we all went together."

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. He knew what his daughter was doing and it’s not even subtle anymore but he did notice that you had no idea what his mischievous daughter was doing. Before he could say more, you interrupted, your eyes sparkling with genuine interest. "Actually, I'm interested. It sounds like a lot of fun."

Joel was momentarily speechless. He hadn't expected you to be so open to the idea. Gathering his thoughts, he finally managed to say, "Well, that would be great. I think it could be a lot of fun, too."

As you both continued discussing the field trip, you glanced at the clock on the wall and realized how late it had gotten. "Oh wow, it's already seven in the evening," you said, surprised. "I think we've done enough for today."

Joel looked at the time and nodded. "Yeah, we should probably call it a day."

As you started packing up your things, Joel looked at you earnestly. "Let me take you home," he offered. "It's getting late, and I don't want you walking home alone. This town has its share of people who might take advantage of someone new."

You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother. "I appreciate it, but I don't want to trouble you."

Joel shook his head firmly. "It's no trouble at all. I insist."

Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, you nodded in agreement. "Alright, thank you, Joel. I appreciate it."

Together, you left the school, the evening air cool and refreshing. As you walked to his truck, you felt a sense of camaraderie growing between you. Joel opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed in, feeling a mix of gratitude and curiosity about where this new connection might lead.

As Joel drove the truck with you in the passenger seat, he suddenly glanced over at you and asked, "Is it okay if we drive through McDonald's? It's for Sarah."

You smiled and nodded. "Of course, that's fine."

The drive to McDonald's was accompanied by a comfortable silence, punctuated by the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of papers from the plans you had been working on together. Joel broke the silence, his voice warm and curious. "So, where are you originally from?"

"I'm from Louisiana," you replied, a hint of homesickness in your voice. "This is my first time being away from my family."

Joel nodded, his expression empathetic. "I know it can be tough, especially when you're used to having them around. Just a piece of advice, though: don't walk around at night alone. And if you need anything, you can call me anytime."

You appreciated his concern but didn't want to be a bother. "Thank you, Joel. I don't want to impose, especially since you have a busy work schedule."

Joel waved off your concerns. "It's no imposition at all." He reached out to the dashboard, retrieved a calling card from his company, and handed it to you. "My number is on there. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

You took the card, touched by his kindness. "Thank you, Joel. I really appreciate it."

A few minutes later, the truck pulled into the McDonald's drive-through. As you approached the ordering kiosk, the cashier's voice crackled through the telecom. "Welcome to McDonald's. Can I take your order?"

Joel leaned over to the speaker and ordered, "I'll take two Big Macs and fries, please." Then he turned to you. "And what would you like?"

You hesitated, not wanting to add to the order, but Joel's encouraging nod made you feel more at ease. "I'll have a chicken burger, please."

Joel relayed your order to the cashier. "And a chicken burger as well, thanks."

As you waited for the food, Joel glanced at you with a smile. "Louisiana, huh? Must be quite a change coming to Austin."

You nodded, thinking about the differences between the two places. "It is. But I'm slowly adjusting. Your daughter, Sarah, has been a big help since I came to the class."

Joel chuckled. "She's a good kid. Always looking out for people."

The truck rolled forward to the pick-up window. The cashier handed over the bags of food, and Joel passed them to you to hold. As he paid and received the change, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of admiration for him. His kindness and willingness to help made the transition to your new life a little bit easier.

"Thanks for doing this, Joel," you said as he pulled out of the drive-through and headed back towards your apartment.

"No problem at all," he replied. "I'm glad to help."

When you finally reached your apartment, Joel parked the truck and turned to you. "I'll walk you to your door."

You nodded, appreciating the gesture. As you both got out and he walked you to your apartment, the evening air was filled with the quiet chirping of crickets. When you reached your door, you turned to him with a smile. "Thanks again, Joel. For everything."

"Anytime," he replied, giving you a reassuring smile. "Have a good night."

"You too," you said, watching as he made his way back to the truck.

As you entered your apartment, the cozy familiarity of the small space greeted you. You placed your bag on the kitchen counter, the scent of vanilla lingering from your perfume. Joel Miller's calling card was still in your hand, and you set it down next to the fruit bowl, taking a moment to reflect on the evening.

Joel Miller. He was an enigma. In the classroom, his rugged appearance had caught your eye: the typical flannel shirt, worn-out jeans, and work boots—he exuded a blend of ruggedness and reliability. You remembered how he had seemed hesitant but determined to discuss the field trip plans, his deep voice carrying a hint of nervousness. Despite his rough exterior, there was a gentleness in the way he interacted with you and his daughter.

You recalled his strong hands pointing out locations on the map, the subtle scent of sawdust and pine mingling with the vanilla of your perfume. His genuine concern for your safety had touched you, and his easy smile had made you feel at ease.

But then you shook your head, trying to dispel those thoughts. Joel was a parent, and you were a teacher. It was inappropriate to think of him in any other way. You needed to maintain professionalism, especially since Sarah was one of your favorite students.

You made your way to the bathroom, flicking on the light. The cool tile floor under your feet grounded you as you leaned over the sink, splashing your face with cold water. The shock of the cold helped clear your mind. You stared at your reflection, droplets of water clinging to your skin.

"Cut it out," you muttered to yourself, gripping the edges of the sink. "He's just a parent. Focus on your job."

You took a deep breath and stood up straight, grabbing a towel to pat your face dry. The lingering thoughts of Joel Miller needed to be pushed aside. You were here to teach and not to get distracted by the rugged charm of one of your student’s parents.

You walked back into the living room and sat on the couch, opening your laptop to review tomorrow’s lesson plans. Immersing yourself in work was the best way to push those thoughts away. As you typed away, you reminded yourself of your priorities: teaching, supporting your students, and adjusting to life in Austin. 

Everything else, including your confusing emotions about Joel Miller, would have to wait.

Whatever that even means for you. 

CONTINUE READING: PART 1 | PART 3 ━━ AVAILABLE ON AO3

☆ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION | SOCIALS | SIGN OFF BANNER MADE BY. @ALDERAANDORS

[broken-clover]

So after rewatching with the director's commentary (yeah, technically I watched the movie twice in two days, but the second time I mostly had it in the background while doing other stuff) and having some more time to collect my thoughts, I think I'm just deciding to do a list of all the things I thought the movie did really well, expected or otherwise. Like, everyone knows about the bizarreness and the so-bad-it's-good memery but I want to highlight some stuff I thought was genuinely admirable

-In watching the director's commentary, it seemed that he had a pretty realistic and relatively grounded and familiar understanding of the source material, which is inherently more than the live action Mario movie did. Even if it didn't pan out like expected, it's cool to see that passion went into it and he had a sense of respect for the games instead of writing them off as childish and trying to 'improve' it

-Likewise appreciate the director sharing petty grievances with the film, it humanizes things quite a bit. In fairness I also want those swizzle sticks and Bison dollars and would've been bummed if I was the only one who didn't get any.

-100% will always respect practical effects and physical set design. There were a few areas where CGI was used but for the most part it's all tangible

-Also!! Practical fighting!! Yes it's easy to make jokes about Van Damme's accent when playing someone so cartoonishly American but in a movie like this that relies so heavily on fight scenes he's exactly the sort of person you'd want to cast.

-(Perhaps an odd aside but upon reflection and trying to see other peoples' opinions on the film I think @ninewheels makes a very solid point in that having an immigrant Guile subtly works in the narrative's favor while also downplaying the plot's 'white savior' element to a degree)

-Again, discarding the canon divergences, Honda and Balrog had some terrific moments as a comedic duo, and for as little screentime was they had they managed to make their characters compelling. It's made completely understandable that given all three having their lives ruined by Bison in some form that they and Chun-Li would gravitate towards and work together. Unironically would watch a whole side series just about the three of them they bounce off of each other in a strangely natural way

-Likewise, Dhalsim!! Was not expecting to find him so compelling. I know it's a steep deviation from canon but at the very least they gave him his own little character arc, and the desire to use his skills for the betterment of humanity does sound a lot like canon Dhalsim behavior so I'm fine with it.

-Like I mentioned before, I was quite shocked at how well done Vega's presence was in the film, being rather spot on visually and personality-wise. As I found out while looking up more info, apparently his actor was still learning English at the time, so it's understandable why he only had a few short lines. However, just about everything else makes up for it. The costume design was near-perfect, and even without dialogue his body language did a terrific job of having him come across as condescendingly smug and dismissive. I see a lot of (absolutely deserved) praise for Mr. Julia but Jay Tavare did a fantastic job and absolutely deserves more credit

-On that note in general a recurring sentiment I kept having was that the silent/gesture comedy in this was really, really sharp. Some of the funniest parts in this movie were ones with no dialogue whatsoever

-This movie was funny on purpose!! I've seen some people describe the memetic moments in this and make it sound as though the whole thing is a straightforward action flick, but there were a whole lot of actually intentionally comedic elements and most of them landed perfectly well!

-Zangief is another underratedly terrific performance. Even if he's much duller than he is canonically it's played with so much gusto and enthusiasm that it's so enjoyable to watch him in action.

-Raul Julia. No explanation needed.

-Ming-Na Wen. Slight explanation needed bc WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME SHE WAS SO GOOD IN THIS. Woman did her own stunts and gave the movie a dose of colder realism that worked excellently with the somewhat unsteady tone

-Bazooka Cammy. Also as iffy as I was initially at having a pop star acting in this Kylie turned in a pretty solid performance.

-Gun Ken. I don't have much elaboration for this one it was just funny. Super magical spirit karate from living in backwoods Japan for like a decade with some old guy and you just decide to use a gun. We brought back Neck Snap Cammy from the II OVA for 6 so we can totally bring back Gun Ken for SF6 too right?? Please?? Don't even have to do anything too fancy just take regular Ken and give him Gun.

[vent-and-advice]

Hello there, I’ve made some horrible mistakes and it caused me to unintentionally hurt people and lose a lot of friends. This is going to be all over the place and I apologize for that. This all started on Discord. I’m a huge fan of Thomas Sanders. He changed my life in a lot of ways because he inspired me to be a better version of myself. Thomas is so full of life, energy, and enthusiasm. He’s kind, sweet, loving, affectionate, caring, and has the heart of gold. He’s very genuine, open, honest, and real. He touched so many lives, he’s an inspiration to so many people. I was on Discord and I was in a bunch of Sander Sides servers, I made friends with a lot of people and it was fun interacting with others and sharing our love for Thomas and his characters that are called “The Sander Sides” and everyone were very welcoming and sweet towards me! A lot of Fanders made videos for Thomas wishing him a happy birthday, anniversary, or just showing their appreciation towards him, and that’s what got me inspired to collaborate with a group of friends and make a video wishing Thomas a happy birthday. One of them decided to create a server because it’ll be easier for everyone to discuss what kind of videos, edits, fanart, and cosplays they want to do. So everyone can submit their creations and I added all of our creations into one video, edited it, posted it my YouTube channel, and Thomas reacted to it! He brought all of us together and the collaboration made us even more closer. We weren’t doing this to fanboy, fangirl, get a famous person to notice us or 15 minutes of fame. We did this out of the kindness of our hearts because this man truly touched our hearts.

The server wasn’t just about Thomas Sanders and video collaborations. It’s also a safe space for those that are going through difficult times such as homophobia, transphobia, abuse, and any sort of discrimination. A lot of members on the server are LGBTQ+. Their parents are not supportive and they are mistreated for being gay, lesbian, bisexual, trans, nonbinary, genderfluid, pansexual, etc. My heart was bleeding for them because they deserve to be treated with love, care, compassion, and respect. My co-owner decided to become the server dad because of it and we were becoming a close-knit family already. I asked if I can be the server mom because I have that motherly and nurturing personality. I don’t have any kids in real life but like I said before, I have that motherly and nurturing personality. I’m a shoulder to cry on, ear to listen, and hand to hold. I always encourage people and make them feel loved, accepted, appreciated, and happy. So, it was a natural calling to me. I literally tell people this “If your parents don’t support you for being gay or if they abuse you, I’m your new mom now.” The co-owner said yes and I was happy. They’re 18, polyamorous and dating two different people. I’m 26 and a heterosexual. I’m one of the oldest members of the server. The majority of the members are teenagers ages 15, 16, 18, and 19. Everyone was happy to have new parents that finally loved, accepted, respected and understood them. It brought all of us closer together. Everyone called us “Mom and Dad.” Everyone had a family role too. We had server aunts, uncles, sons, and daughters. Because of the age gap, I thought it would be weird for us to be server husband and wife because again, I’m 26 and they’re 18. One day, they gave me the role to be their server wife and I figured as long as they’re comfortable with it, I’ll accept and I gave them the role to be my server husband. It wasn’t meant to be taken literal because we don’t have feelings for each other and I wouldn’t date anyone who’s 18 or 19. It was just for the family dynamic. We called each other “Wifey and “Hubs/Hubby.” One of his partners was a member of the server and he was okay with it and he called me “Mom” also. We all called each other nicknames out of endearment. I called one of my friends “Kitten” and I didn’t know that it was inappropriate to call people. I was saying it in a motherly way for example a mother cat and all of her kittens. One person said “Kitten” and I explained that it was my way of saying sweetie, my dear, dear, and darling and the person I called that understood and told me they were cool with it. They never told me they weren’t comfortable being called that. Not on the server or a DM. Nobody on the server educated me or explained whey calling people “Kitten” is inappropriate either.

One day the co-owner messaged me, venting to me about their personal struggles and I was trying to encourage them but they wouldn’t listen to my advice. They told me that they valued his partners more than me as a friend and that’s the day I made a terrible decision. I overreacted and told them that I felt like my heart was stomped on, it felt like a kick in the throat, I was thrown into the dirt because I’ve done a lot for them and everyone else in the server. I guilt-tripped him and that was very rotten of me to do. One day he told me to stop calling him “Hubs” asked me to message him privately and he told me he wanted to take a break from the dad role. They told me they were hurt about those awful things I said. They also said that I seem to be clingy too. I respected their decision but I asked them are we no longer going to be a family because I didn’t understand the sudden change. I was pressuring and forcing them to be in a family dynamic they were no longer comfortable with. I felt horrible for the way I spoke to him, I took full responsibility for my actions, held myself accountable, and took ownership of my mistakes. Days later we made amends but they told one someone about the situation and they posted a thread about it on Twitter and I was accused of grooming minors, being inappropriate, and manipulating them. That wasn’t the case at all. They also mentioned the “Kitten” thing too. They said that I kept calling individuals kittens despite them telling me they were uncomfortable, but they never did. I only called one person that and they never told me that they were uncomfortable. I found out they were too scared to message me and tell that they were uncomfortable. There’s more but I don’t think I can fit everything into this. Everyone unfriended and blocked me. I had no idea what was going on because I thought me and co-owner made amends and I was working on learning healthier boundaries and trying to recenter myself. I was messaging our mutual friends constantly and daily because I went into a panic and I had no idea what was going on until I saw the thread on Twitter and the post on Instagram. It wasn’t my intention to hurt anyone because I would NEVER treat a child that way. Everyone called me a groomer, predator, and I was even told that I should register as a sex offender. The person I called “Kitten” didn’t give me the chance to apologize to them because they unfriended and blocked me. All I tried to do was be there for those in need and make everyone happy, not hurt them. Everyone hates me, and I feel like they’re going to tell Thomas about the situation and make him hate me too. I’ll never get to meet him one day because if I do, people will probably say “There goes that groomer over there!” All of this happened last month in June. I’m consumed with anxiety. I feel unloved, unwanted. I really need your advice because this has been weighing on me for too long.

Oh dear, this sounds complicated. Take a deep breath, drink some calming tea, and let's think about this.

So, you messed up. That's ok, everyone does. But you have to understand that people who aren't willing to hear your side of the story and make baseless accusations against you are never truly worth it in the end. I recommend saying your piece to these people and letting them choose to do with what you have said. And, I recommend also taking a break from online spaces in general. Being the constant shoulder to cry on in vent Discords may feel like an honor, but being responsible for the mental health of so many people can consume one with anxiety. Take some 'me time' to sort everything out.

And all that matters is you know who you are, and I know you'll find the people who will be able to judge your character as it is as well.

Now take this flower my friend and go off. Everything will be ok. You will be ok. You've got this. 🌺

[belongcreative]

Moving from Audition to Screen: Expert Tips for Commercial Casting Success

Selecting the perfect talent for your project is pivotal. Ace this, and your story will glow. Slip up, and it might all unravel. But don't fret—here's some priceless advice to guarantee your casting hits the mark, making your video successful.

Whether you're a seasoned director or new to the scene, mastering the art of casting can make or break your production. Here, we delve into the secrets of successful casting, offering expert tips to ensure your video or TV commercial shines.

From crafting compelling casting calls to conducting auditions that captivate, we'll guide you through every step of the casting process. With our help, you'll confidently select the perfect talent to bring your vision to life.

So, let's dive in and discover how to ace your video or TV commercial casting with finesse and flair.

Start with a Stellar Brief

First off, carving out time for an impeccable brief is essential. It truly makes a difference. After your script gets a thumbs-up, your Creative Director will craft a Talent Brief. This crucial step ensures your actors mirror your brand and resonate with your audience, simplifying your search for the right faces. For each character, you'll need to specify:

Age, gender, ethnicity, physique, hair

Personality traits that align with your narrative

Suggested wardrobe (they might just arrive in character!)

The script itself

Gauge Their Attitude

Pay close attention to attitudes during auditions, whether in person or online. You're looking for individuals who:

Show up on time

Communicate well and value feedback

Are eager to follow directions and ask questions (a good sign!)

Tackle problems with grace

Exhibit genuine enthusiasm

Appreciate the audition opportunity

Ensure They're the Right Fit

It's about more than just attitude. Candidates must:

Visually match the character convincingly

Fulfil most, if not all, of your brief's criteria (be open to compromises, though?)

Have a voice that brings the character to life

Use body language effectively, especially in action scenes or with props

Assess Their Performance

Ultimately, their acting ability is what matters most. At times, skill outweighs looks—styling or direction can bridge gaps. Focus on:

Creativity and improvisation—look for variety in their performances

Authenticity—can they become the character, not just 'act'?

That extra something—they should add layers to the script or character

Chemistry with others—seamless integration with fellow actors is crucial

Case Study: Aldi's "Precendented Prices" Campaign

Aldi's casting for their 30-second spot is a prime example of impeccable casting that truly brought their vision to life.

Remember, auditions are a big deal for actors. Always extend respect, even if they're not the right fit now—they could be ideal for future projects.

Here's to your casting triumph for your next video!

Final Thoughts: Achieving Casting Excellence for Your Video or TV Commercial

Following the steps above, you can choose the ideal talent to breathe life into your vision. Remember to embody authenticity, professionalism, and respect throughout the process. Here's to your casting triumph for your next project!

[bgs-junior]

Belonging: The Heartbeat of Our School Community

By Mrs Howe, Head of Junior School

I was reminded at our recent Whole School Open Morning just how extremely proud I am of our young ambassadors and tour guides as they showed prospective parents around our Junior School.  It is a truly special moment seeing our pupils, some of whom have only recently joined the school, talking with such enthusiasm and confidence to our visitors.  But I have come to the realisation that this confidence and enthusiasm is the surface of something that lies far deeper. It is something that makes our school environment so wonderful and enriching. What lies beneath the surface I believe is that the children feel like they belong to a community.

The Junior School is a place where our pupils are welcomed with open arms, where they feel seen and heard, and where they know that they are an essential part of everything we do.

Why is it so important for our children to feel like they belong? 

Feeling like you belong is powerful. Belonging is more than just a warm, fuzzy feeling. It's a fundamental human need, something that feeds our souls and nurtures our growth. When we belong, we're more likely to thrive, both personally and academically.

Belonging is a way of providing support and encouragement: In the Junior School, children are surrounded by people  who genuinely care about their well-being. Friends, teachers, and classmates are part of a wide support network. They are always on hand to celebrate successes and provide a shoulder to lean on during the tough times.

Feeling like we belong is a real confidence boost: When you feel like you belong you have the confidence to express your ideas and opinions. When you know you're a valued member of the community, you're more likely to participate in discussions, share your thoughts, and take on leadership roles.

Feeling like we belong celebrates our diversity: We have a wonderfully diverse school community with pupils from many cultures, backgrounds, and perspectives. Embracing this diversity not only enriches our experiences but also teaches us open-mindedness, empathy, and understanding.

Feeling like we belong opens up learning opportunities: Belonging often leads to collaboration and teamwork. Working with peers on projects or participating in group activities enhances problem-solving skills, adaptability, and communication.

We also need to keep working and help our pupils strengthen their sense of belonging in the Junior School community.  We can do this in so many ways.  We encourage the girls to get involved: joining clubs, teams, or any of the fun co-curricular activities that interest them is an excellent way to meet like-minded people and make new friends who share the same passions.  We encourage all our pupils to be inclusive and reach out to others who may be feeling left out. Small acts of kindness can make a big difference; we help the pupils invite someone to join a game, encourage them to sit with a new classmate at lunch, or simply offer a friendly smile in the corridor.  We encourage our pupils (and parents) to participate in school events, especially those run by our PTA: these gatherings provide opportunities for both children and parents to connect with peers and teachers outside the classroom setting.  And finally, we ensure that we celebrate achievements. By acknowledging and celebrating the achievements and contributions of fellow pupils we are recognising the value each person brings to the community which in turn fosters a culture of appreciation and respect.

Mae Jemison, former NASA astronaut and the first African American woman to become an astronaut once said “The really wonderful thing that happened to me when I was in space was this feeling of belonging to the entire universe.” 

I can’t promise the entire universe, but I think that making sure our girls feel that they all belong to the Junior School community is an excellent place to start!

[sneezemonster15]

I frankly don't understand when fans like either Naruto and hate Sasuke or vice versa. Like how can you love one and hate another? These two boys who were written to be each other's chosen one, to be each other's lover, best friend, family and fated cosmic mate? They like each other because they find certain qualities in the other that really appeal to them.

Sasuke likes Naruto's brash charm and big mouthed, big eyed enthusiasm and spirit. Even when he finds Naruto naive or has a difference of opinion with him, he always respects Naruto's honesty, resolve, battle instincts and clever resourcefulness. He also understands Naruto's motivations like no one else. Literally no one else. Sasuke is able to appreciate these qualities in Naruto that he isn't able to identify in himself. Sasuke is typically stiff and formal, but with Naruto, he becomes playful and funny and sometimes even silly. That or he totally loses it, becomes yelly and very annoyed. Lol. Or becomes kinda sensual and flirtatious. Naruto brings out so many shades in him.

Likewise, Naruto admires Sasuke's skills, talents, focus, drive and charisma. Okay, he also likes the way Sasuke looks, lol. Like really really likes, bless my sweet silly little blond boy. He understands Sasuke when no one else is able to or attempts to. He is motivated to understand Sasuke, so much so that everything in his life becomes about just that throughout Shippuden. He loves Sasuke but he also really likes Sasuke. He has fun with him, he shares an irreplaceable bond with him, he thinks he is the only one in the world qualified to shoulder his pain. He likes it when Sasuke talks trash with him, gets on cloud nine if Sasuke acknowledges his skills and strength, and flirts with him. Yes, they both flirt with each other, adorable. They both are really impressed with each other's jutsu arsenal and strengths.

My point is their characters are written to reflect their compatibility with each other. In every way. Kishimoto always had Sasuke at the back of his mind when writing Naruto. Naruto exemplifies the kind of person Sasuke likes. Sasuke exemplifies the kind of person Naruto likes. Naruto always knew of the inherent good and kindness in Sasuke, never mind who said what about him, and a lot of people tried, his faith never budged. Not for one moment. That they both understand loneliness and suffer from lack or loss of familial love, only gives them similar sensibilities about what it means to love.

I once wrote a post saying despite the fact that I love both of them, I personally love Naruto a smidge more. I am basically putty for sweet, genuine, kind, funny, a little slow, emotionally generous but resolute type characters. And when they look as adorable as Naruto does, better sign me up this minute. But thing is, I relate a bit more with Sasuke than Naruto. And what kind of person does Sasuke like? Naruto. He likes Naruto for the same reasons I like him. I really appreciate these qualities in people I meet, when they have them. It is a welcome relief, a fresh breeze, so soothing, uncomplicated (Naruto is a complex character, but his disposition is just so refreshingly straightforward, obviously this does not include his gayness). I can take them at face value and not have to participate in the social rituals of playing unnecessary mind games. I find it much easier to be my authentic self deprecating, sad jokes making self with people like Naruto. People like Naruto bring out the best in me. Just like Naruto brings out the best in Sasuke, makes him smiley and affectionate and much less cynical. Likewise, Sasuke challenges Naruto like no one else, and there aren't many fictional characters who like a challenge more than Naruto. (Do not say Barney Stinson).

How can one not see why and how much one loves another? And that it's part of their very characterisation that they are able to appreciate such qualities in the other.

But well, fans will be fans. I wonder what it says about their understanding of their favourite, whether Sasuke or Naruto, if they can't understand what makes their favourite tick? Who makes their favourite passionate and crazy and irrational and smiley and sacrificey?

Sasuke and Naruto are not just meant for each other, they are written to be each other's perfect partner, Naruto to lighten and soften Sasuke up and Sasuke to balance Naruto's boundless energy and enhance his worldview. They are two pieces in a two piece puzzle box. They are perfect for and with each other. They are supposed to be yin and yang, which means that each has a little bit of himself in the other and they both together strike a perfect balance of nature.

At least in my book, liking one directly means that you would like the other. If you really, actually like them and get them.

[mt-words]

Can we get some dream smp fandom positivity posts? As someone who posts mostly analysis and has never once had someone say anything rude in response, I think we perceive the fanbase as more toxic than it is because of a few outspoken individuals. Y'all are pretty chill and I like you.

In no particular order-

I love that Eret’s fans come up with such cool theories, I swear she could give you two sentences of lore and I could see three five page essays on what it could mean about their character within an hour and each of them is unique, intricate, and makes logical sense.

I love the compilations Foolish fans make of him doing ridiculous things on stream, he’s a fun guy that never fails to make me laugh and everything I see from them embodies that energy to me.

I love how creative Hannah’s fans are, you take the awesome ideas she has and turn them into the most amazing designs and concepts.

I love that Techno’s fans might write a ten page essay about his character or just say they enjoy watching him do crime, and you never know which it will be because both come from the same people.

I love how Philza’s fans embrace everything he does with so much enthusiasm. His chat is a flock of crows? Excellent, they can work with that, you will see fifty incredible pieces of art and a hundred theories in the first hour and they’re just getting started.

I love that Niki’s fans are so careful to pay attention and not miss any details. It has been ages and I still see occasional mentions and theories about the “Dear Friend” letter.

I love that Fundy’s fans are very empathetic, they love to find and elaborate on the connections between characters and that’s pretty cool!

I love Tommy’s fans for their energy. They seem passionate about making things right and hopeful that no matter what your situation is things can get better. I’ve seen so many breathtakingly emotional art pieces from this side of the fandom.

I love that George’s fans unapologetically simp for him but then catch me off guard by making deep insights about his character.

I love how Bad’s fans are as genuinely sweet as he is, they’re willing to really look at everything that makes up a character and see the tragedy of it and have compassion about things. And some just want to see an egg rule the server, c'mon, it would be funny.

I love the running gag with Skeppy fans of making Skeppy critical posts, y’all are hilarious.

I love how Purpled fans play up his lack of lore as him being an incredibly powerful cryptid, and they’re right. He totally carried the wither fight on Nov 16th.

I love the balance Quackity fans have between a love of humor, justice, and darker topics. I think like Quackity they are often underestimated and thought of as the jokester side of the fandom to an extent, and then I start reading things they write and it’s well thought out and insightful.

I love that Tubbo’s fans love chaos, cute things, or both to an unhealthy extent. Seeing anything from them reminds me of princess unikitty in all the best ways, and then they turn around and throw a super in depth meaningful analysis at me in the next breath.

I love everything about Sapnap’s fans. Y'all are perfect. The writing and art from the born in fire line? Gold.

I love how Jschlatt fans are generally chill and just enjoy whatever they want to. Their favorite Manburg president was the one who publicly executed his right hand man and gave Dream a resurrection book for firepower, and he looked good doing it.

I love that Callahan has fans. You people are dedicated and I respect it. The fact that Callahan was one of the first names to pop up when everyone was trying to figure out who Harpocrates was even though he rarely involves himself with plot? Your influence knows no bounds.

I love that Alyssa’s fans are simply too powerful. She hasn’t played on the smp since way before I started watching and there are still people defending her barn and drawing pictures of her.

I love that Antfrost’s fans have taken so many ideas and just ran with them and made them awesome. Like him practicing magic? Perfect, he now carries potions and gets a wizard hat.

I love that Dream fans look at a character who has been portrayed as pure evil from many points of view and understand that Everyone has motives based on their situation, even if it isn’t handed to us in an easily understood way.

I love how Jack’s fans are so ready to support any action he takes. Crawling out of hell? Incredible. Killing a child? Good for him! Go team Rocket. Grieving the same child? Learning healthy coping, he’s the coolest.

I love that Connor eats Pants fans are the most reasonable people in this fandom. This is terrifying. Thank you for your service, you always make me smile.

I love that Punz fans unapologetically just love their capitalist mercenary. As they should, his presence always tips the scales and everything he does brings more depth to the characters and plots he interacts with.

I love how much Ranboo fans love complexity. Most of them aren’t afraid to admit that their favorite characters are flawed, because aren’t those flaws what make them interesting and relatable?

I love the variety of Hbomb fans. Half of them may be embracing the cat maid bit while the other half goes on about how impactful and cool L’cast is, but they’re all super chill.

I appreciate that Puffy fans take the time to understand so many perspectives. So many posts I see involving her tie in lore from other characters and find interesting ways to connect them and build them together, kind of like Puffy herself.

I love that Wilbur fans seem to approach the story like they’re solving a puzzle, carefully piecing together details from months apart to figure out how and why everything goes down.

I love how hard Ponk fans work to spread awareness of how awesome he is. Ponk says and does wonderful things and is very fun to watch. I never would have tried his content without them.

I love that Karl fans saw him wanting to be involved and started coming up with such cool ideas around his character that they actually made them canon. Correct me if I’m wrong, wasn’t the time traveler thing a fan theory at first?

I love the creativity Sam fans have with his design and their willingness to discuss complex moral issues. Sam is involved in some heavy lore stuff but he and his fans keep things entertaining and calm.

I’m sure I missed some things, please feel free to add on!

[mygodyouredivine]

Something About You

Summary: After you joined the Avengers, you had quickly bonded with all the team members and accepted even Loki. Loki finds himself drawn to you and develops a begrudging fondness for you. He doesn't realize just how deep that affection was rooted until you are injured on a mission.

Characters: Loki Laufeyson/(f)Reader

Warnings: mostly none, minor injury (nothing graphic), minor angst

Word Count: 2965

Notes: Hi! This is my first ever fanfiction and the first time I’m posting on tumblr! I’ve read many (many, many, many) Loki/Reader fics and I wanted to give it a try to see if I could write a short interaction between Loki and the reader. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes, and if you enjoyed, any feedback/comments would be much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Loki despised the Avengers. It was impossible to miss the distrustful looks thrown his way, the way the air shifted uncomfortably when he entered a room, or the thinly veiled jabs at his loyalty despite him living in the compound for well over a year. However, their treatment of him wasn’t the source of his contempt. It was you, and for all the Norns he couldn’t determine why. 

You had moved into the compound a few weeks after he had and every single occupant of the tower had been immediately infatuated with your charm. Not that Loki could blame them. You maintained a sense of innocence he could hardly believe, especially due to your history. He didn’t know much about you, but you had been rescued - and then recruited - into the Avengers after all. A tragic backstory was practically a prerequisite. You were also contradictory; for though you exuded innocence, there was also a complexity and rage that simmered underneath your skin. During missions, you were a force not to be underestimated - you stuck down enemies with a certainty and ease that even Loki respected. But in the safety and comfort of the tower, you were, for lack of a more eloquent term, adorable . Walking around in oversized Midgardian articles of clothing and fuzzy socks that often sported cartoonish designs of various animals, you almost appeared soft. Paired with your bright, but not blinding, personality, it only made sense that the others warmed to you so quickly.

Stark was the first to fall under your spell, pampering you with his latest inventions before showing anyone else. Loki supposed it had to do with your genuine enthusiasm when Stark talked, and the team had quickly learned that besides Pepper, you were one of the only people who could persuade Stark to venture from his lab to get the rest that all mortals needed. Rogers had been next. It wasn’t hard to see why the Captain had taken such a quick liking to you. Loki personally believed Rogers only saw the innocence and not the complexity, but that innocence had apparently activated his protective mode, for the Captain was oh-so-careful whenever he reluctantly sent you on any missions. Next, it had been Banner. You and the shy doctor had bonded over your shared love of quiet relaxed conversation and he could often find you in Banner’s labs, assisting him with various mundane tasks. You had even swayed the ever-suspicious Widow. How you did so, Loki had no idea. Even now, months later, the Widow only gazed upon him with open hostility. Finally, his oaf of a brother Thor. Thor had loved you from the first time he met you, but that was no surprise. What was surprising was how you tolerated his boisterous brother’s extroverted and often over-enthusiastic nature with a never ending well of patience. He could see how you flinched when Thor would sometimes talk too loudly, but you were always quick to cover it up with a smile and a hug for the oaf. 

Loki noticed that like many Midgardians, you seemed to crave touch. Even among the highly suspicious Avengers, they all seemed to trust you intimately. Stark, who, putting it lightly, was not a hugger, seemed to enjoy the occasional brush of your fingers across his arm. Rogers loved to ruffle your hair whenever he saw you, his large hand continuously running through your soft locks during meetings. Loki wondered briefly what it would be like to feel your silky strands of hair between his fingers, to have you sigh contentedly and close your eyes while he wove intricate braids into your hair. He didn’t know. The only one besides Rogers who touched your hair was the Widow, and you could both often be found brushing and braiding each other’s hair. With Banner, you seemed to be fond of side hugs, quickly smooshing the entire side of your body against his, and with Thor, well, you seemed to be the most comfortable with his brother. Your customary greeting was a hug, and it often annoyed him when his brother would abandon whatever interaction he was having with Loki to embrace you and spin you around while you giggled with a childlike glee. During the weekly movie nights, you could usually be found next to Thor, curled next to him with one of his arms thrown haphazardly behind your shoulders. Loki hated it. 

When you had first moved into the compound, you had been cautious around all of your new companions. Slowly, that careful apprehension had faded away, and you had become an integral part of their family, while Loki had remained an outsider. He had tried to hate you, and for a time, he was successful. He looked down upon your openness, your softness, and categorized it as a weakness. Over time, he began to see your courage and ability to trust as a strength and as a sign that you were truly comfortable with all the occupants of the tower, and he admired it, rather against his will. 

Though Loki refused to admit it to himself, his fascination with you had nothing to do with how the others saw you; Loki couldn’t care less about the opinions of Midgardians. Except you. There was something about you that drew Loki to you, for when he noticed you were relaxed with all of your roommates, he was startled to see that it included him. Not to say he was your favorite by any chance, or that you paid special attention to him, but he was excruciatingly aware of your perfectly average treatment of him. The way your eyes met his without flinching and how your body refused to tense when he entered a room and the way you didn’t hesitate before contentedly dropping into a seat next to him made him feel accepted. Though his pride prevented him from acknowledging it, acceptance was one thing Loki strived for but could never reach, regardless of his Silvertongue or magic, charm or tricks. But with you, Loki didn’t have to strive for acceptance, he simply was. As uncomfortable as it made him, Loki begrudgingly began to develop a fondness for you.

Not only did your laid-back treatment of Loki prompt him to lower his defenses around you, your complete and inherent trust in him pleased him immensely. He wasn’t talking about you sharing all your deepest and darkest secrets with him, but rather the way you trusted he wouldn’t hurt you or betray the Avengers. Occasionally Loki would unintentionally hear snippets of conversation between ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ making jabs regarding his ability to be trusted and simply at his expense, but you were never a part of the unpleasant discussions. In fact, Loki would often see you frowning disapprovingly at whomever had made the disparaging comment, and while the others’ opinion of Loki did not matter to him whatsoever, seeing your discontent had him appreciating you even more. More than how you acted when Loki wasn’t present, Loki still mostly enjoyed the interactions you did have with him. Loki typically hated movie nights as he was forced to suffer through the combined presence of all the people who disliked him crammed into a single room. He constantly craved to distance himself from everyone, including you, until he had experienced your closeness for himself. Though it was unbearably harder to see you interacting so affectionately with Thor after he knew just how intoxicating you were, the times you would touch him always kept his negative feelings at bay. On the rare occasions when you weren’t glued to Thor’s side during movie nights, you opted to sit next to him. More often than not, you ended up falling asleep, either right next to him, or on him, though that seldom ever happened. The few times it did, Loki found himself paying even less attention to whatever repetitive and predictable Midgardian film was playing and focusing on you. The steady rise and fall of your breaths against his skin, the warmth your body radiated, contrasting deliciously with his own icy interior, and the unpredictable actions you took in your sleep, such as the occasional tightening of your fingers on his chest or the charming way you enticingly nuzzled your cheek into him. Whenever you feel asleep on him, Loki would take extreme care to keep his breaths as even as possible to not disturb you. He once mustered up the courage to drape his arm across your slumbering form, and you had sighed ever so softly and only burrowed deeper into his side. When you woke up, you always looked mortified and apologized profusely, as if Loki could ever be displeased by your actions. Unbeknownst to you, the moments you spend curled up next to him warmed him during the days you were absent or off on missions.

He doubted you knew how much you mattered to him, and he himself didn’t understand just how deep he cared for you, until he almost lost you. You were on a mission with Thor and the Widow and were supposed to be back a week ago. Various complications had arisen, and while worry grew within Loki, he pushed it deep within himself as missions rarely did go completely smoothly. However, his sleep quality, while usually less restful when you were not within the compound, deteriorated at a rapid pace, and he found himself in the kitchen making tea when the Quinjet returned, announcing your return. Loki immediately knew something was off, for he did not hear any quiet chatter or soft laughter that usually accompanied you, Thor, and the Widow. Convincing himself that he had nothing better to do, Loki had gone up to the roof with the intent of offering his brother tea as a guise to check on you. The sight Loki was met with had his fingers tightening on the mug and his teeth being grinded so hard he could almost hear it. For there Thor was, leaving the Quinjet with you held in his arms and the Widow prancing along behind. A concoction of emotions began boiling within Loki: confusion, hurt, anger, disgust. As Loki continued to watch from the shadow of the roof, his revulsion only increased as Thor lowered his face to yours in a disgustingly sweet manner and whispered in your ear. However, as Thor and the Widow drew closer to where Loki was standing, he began to pick up on the oddity of the situation. Why would Thor be carrying you in his arms? The Widow was not prancing, she was running. Why was she running? Why were you still limp? Was that blood? Loki quickly emerged from his corner and walked forward towards you. The sight he was met with had the tea in his hands dropping to the floor and shattering with a crash that Loki couldn’t hear. In fact, he couldn’t hear anything but a distant buzzing surrounding him, for you were there, lying in Thor’s arms with your eyes closed, skin sickly pale but shining with sweat, hair matted, and coated in blood that seemed to ooze from your body. Without a word, Loki had teleported all of you into the doctor’s lab. 

As Thor positioned you gently down onto the bed and the Widow ran to summon the healers, Loki could only focus on you. Your breaths, so solid against his side a few days ago, were erratic and thin, your chest barely rising at all. Your fingers twitched, not in the peaceful way they had against his chest, but painfully. Your brows furrowed and you whimpered pathetically. Loki’s heart shattered. Under any other circumstance, he would have immediately demanded what had happened, but he could not tear his eyes from you. Oh, you precious little mortal. Loki had forgotten how frail Midgardians were and how easily you could break, how utterly short your existences were. He reached towards your fragile form, carefully brushing your tangled hair away from your face. He poured his seidr into you, praying to all the Norns - Hel, even to Odin - that you would survive this ordeal, all the while cursing himself for not going with you, for allowing you to become injured to such an extent, and for not practicing healing magic when he had a change. His desperate attempt to heal you and self loathing was cut short by the arrival of doctors, nurses, and the other Avengers, all wildy alert after receiving news of your injury. Loki allowed himself to be jostled away while medical personnel surrounded you as the others began questioning Thor and the Widow on how you had arrived in this condition. 

Now, Loki sat by your bedside, where he had resided ever since they had stabilized your condition. He refused to budge, plainly ignoring anyone who tried to take his place and brushing off Thor’s half-hearted attempts to get him to eat. No, Loki spent all his time here, watching you for any sign of recovery and ensuring that your breaths kept coming. Your clothes had been changed. You were no longer wearing your bloodied uniform, but a set of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt taken out of your bedroom. Your body had been cleaned and hair had been brushed. You looked so peaceful, just laying there on the crisp white sheets. Your eyelids fluttering randomly and the occasional wince and groan were the only signs of life you exhibited. Your body convulses, and your face tenses as sweat begins to bead across your forehead. Loki recognized these symptoms all too well. You were having a nightmare. 

“Darling? Darling do you think you could wake up? I know you can. Come on, you can do it.” 

Loki whispered encouragement into your unconscious body, hoping he could rouse you from whatever torment your subconscious decided to inflict upon you. Surprisingly, you do awake, though it was not with the grace he typically saw from you. Instead, your eyes jolted open with a start and you immediately attempted to sit up, falling back down onto your back as your injury took over you. Your eyes were clouded as a result of the medication the doctors had pumped you with and your lips were chapped. Your hair framed your face haphazardly as a result of your incessant twitching from the nightmare. Your eyebags were prominent and half of your body and face still swollen. Norns, Loki thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. 

Seeing him, your half alert face breaks into a genuine smile and Loki hands you a glass of water, prompting you to greedily gulp all the liquid down.  

“Loki?” , you croak. “I'm cold.”

Loki’s relief at your awakening is palpable, and he immediately shrugs off his hoodie and bundles you up in the dark green (and insanely soft) fabric. His heart seems infinitely lighter as you look up at him wearing his ridiculously large hoodie and softens when you lay back down and burrow yourself into the fabric. You looked so small there in the hospital bed, your body still recovering and drowning in dark green cotton, and Loki has a sudden desire to brush his lips against the top of your head. Justifying his actions of simply that of a concerned friend, Loki gives into his want. The instant his lips come into contact with your skin, Loki never wants to let you go. The warmness of you seeps into him and fills a void within himself he didn’t even know he had. But Loki lets go, and you sigh happily. Looking down at your now sleeping figure, Loki decides to alert the others. As much as the Avengers dislike him, he does not take joy in witnessing their restlessness as they wallow in guilt. Moving away from you, Loki is stopped by your voice. 

“Don’t go.” , your sleepy voice whispers, “Please don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

Though he wasn’t sure of the exact details of your past or what experiences prompted you to ask him to stay, but in that moment Loki vowed to completely annihilate not only those who put you in your current state, but also any being who had ever dared to harm you in any way, even if he had to track down the man who had cut in front of you when you were in line getting coffee for the team a few weeks ago. Your eyes look at him with sadness and pleading within that whatever miniscule amount of conviction within Loki dissipates. He quickly returns to your bedside, dragging the chair closer to you. Selfishly, Loki wants to touch you again, so he reaches out a hand to close your eyelids. 

“Shh. It’s okay love. I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you. I promise. Try to get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

“Thank you. You’re the best you know. You’re my favorite,” you mutter almost incoherently as you doze off again. As he moves his hand away from your face, you grimace and grab his hand before he can pull back entirely. Your fingers intertwine with his as you bring it back to you. Turning onto your side, you pull your connected hands back up to your face and cuddle with it. You. Cuddling. With him. “Thought you said you weren’t going to leave,” you mutter as you frown, “Lokiii” you drawl. You smile then, and truly drift off.

Something inside Loki cracks. He had been suppressing and denying it for weeks, months now even, but he could no longer run from the realization that his heart belonged to you. Looking at your sleeping form, willingly grasping onto him even though you knew his history and all that he had done, Loki finally let himself believe he might not need to run anymore. 

[acourtofthought]

ahhhhhh okok i have one more thought for u lol, hope u dont mind my elucien enthusiasm 😂😂. ok so elucien has always reminded me of flynn an rapunzel from Tangled, because we have the sassy (hopefully he returns) lucien whos sorta jus used to being in his own world, and the adventurous elain who wants to see the world! ya kno that one scene where theyve jus left the tower and rapunzel is swinging around a tree all excited that shes out exploring for the firs time and flynn is jus casually leaning against a tree, patiently waiting out her excitement, reminded me so much of how elain an lucien might be when she (i think) will leave the NC and rlly expand her world! omg and dont get me started on the dancing scene in the kingdom village, that was just perfect. so yea, they remind me of my beloved elucien and i cant wait for their book <3 like elain an lucien are so damn similar in a way that perfectly compliments each other, and the amount of times i think abt them in a day is like woahhhh. ok thats it (for now 😂) thanks for listening to my rambling <3

I don't have much to add because you're so right. Elain has been sheltered just as Rapunzel was. And just like Rapunzel, she tries to be happy with her situation, tries to remain positive but she still can't entirely hide her secret longing to see more of the world. And like Mother Gothel warned Rapunzel that the world was too dangerous a place, Elain has certain people trying to protect her from dangers too.

Not that anyone is horrible in the way Mother Gothel was and obviously she prevented Rapunzel from leaving because she didn't want her discovered versus Nesta, Azriel, etc wanting to protect Elain out of concern. But the similarity of Rapunzel / Elain wanting to do more but being held back by someone in their lives does have parallels.

And Flynn (I still can't get on board with calling him Eugene). He is first fascinated by her beauty (as Lucien was caught off guard discovering Elain was the most beautiful female he had ever seen) but his focus quickly turned to respect once Rapunzel began proving that even though she was sheltered, she was more capable than he would have imagined. And though she does things that are bold and brave during her journey to see the "lights", she never loses her optimistic personality and genuinely good nature. And Flynn is absolutely smitten watching her come alive, doing more, yet still appreciating that there is a gentleness that remains through it all.

I've already seen Lucien looking at Elain through this same exact lense after the war and can see it continuing on.

So yeah, you said it. Tangled has a really wonderful likeness to what the future of Elucien could be. Their relationship is one of equals and best friend energy when spending time together.

Thank you again for sharing your thoughts with me! 💜

[whaleofatjme1920]

The Ends of Hallways (Proxies X F!Reader)

The Ends of Hallways

[Proxies X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language]

[AN: Y'all are just gonna have to thank Eris for always sending me the best requests. I don't have favorites,,, but Reader, I have favorites. Also no Kate sorry :( ]

Your face was practically squished against the glass of the car Hoodie had stolen as the four of you pull into the parking lot of woods that brim with the Operator’s energy. You’ve never seen these woods in person - only in dreams. You’ve never even really seen your master in person, once again, like these woods, he too has been confined to your dreams. But you hear him, and often. His voice falls down on your ears like gentle rains that fall from the heavens. He is everything and more. That is why it is so exciting for you to finally be here, so close to him, and to his presence.

“You excited?” You hear your group leader ask.

You nod and press harder up against the glass. “Are we going now?” You’re ready to bounce out of the car and everyone can see that.

He chuckles in response. “What do you think Hood? Time to go?”

The hazel eyed man behind him shoots the driver a look. “Masky, just look at her, she’s gonna break the window if we don’t.” There’s a slight playfulness in his tone that tells you the right hand really isn’t annoyed with you.

“Fair enough,” Masky smiles. He then reaches behind his seat, hand slapping at who used to be the runt’s knee. “Tobes? Tob-Tobes, get up.”

Toby’s eyes shoot open as he lurches forward. “I’m u-u-up, I-I’m u-up,” he yawns as his hands rub tiredly at his eyes. “Are w-w-we here a-alaready?” He asks, the exhaustion still clear in his tone.

Both of the men in the front seats nod. “C’mon, let’s get going,” Hoodie says as he pulls up the lock on his car door before sliding out.

You wait impatiently for Masky to unlock the car then zip out like a bat from hell. You’re immediately at the edge of one of the forest’s many trails and taking in the sights and sounds of your boss’s woods. They’re beautiful, really. The autumn colors bathe the woods in fiery oranges and passionate reds with threads of gold to interlock it all together. The sky is just the slightest shade of blue as clouds cover the sun. There weren’t any people here either - not under the little structures, not exploring, not anyone but you and your comrades.

“Wrong one,” Hoodie says as he closes the trunk to the car before tossing a backpack to Toby, who catches it like second nature.

You whip your head around to see that Masky, Hoodie and Toby are smiling at how excited you are before silently asking you to follow them. “Where are we going?” You ask, eyes wide as you jog up to them.

“Across the field. There’s this cool tunnel of trees we think you’ll appreciate,” Masky replies as he leads his group across the grass. It crunches slightly as the four of you move, like it hasn’t been watered in a long time.

“R-Really?” Toby hums as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You s-s-sure we’re n-not gonna be l-late?” The young proxy gives a slight look to his group leader, eyebrow raised as if he’s sure the Operator is okay with them possibly being tardy.

Masky shakes his head before tapping his temple with his free hand, “he told me it’s okay.”

“He did?” You ask as stars cloud your eyes. The Operator, as you’ve heard so far, is to be feared and respected. He’s like a father you can look at but never touch. He seems so out of your range, like he’s not even visible - not even if you squint your eyes. You wonder what makes you so… interesting… in his eyes. You really don’t think you’re worth all the fuss. Clearly he does.

Masky chuckles before ruffling your hair with his hand, “yeah. I think he finds your enthusiasm endearing.” Masky’s not entirely incorrect. When they first got Toby, the Operator was strangely favorable towards the young proxy as well - maybe because he was hand plucked, special, and therefore deemed worthy of his time. You were similar to Toby, albeit, you accidentally got involved with the Operator. He liked you, chose you, then kept you.

Hoodie whistles slightly as the four of you step into the trees, his gloved hand reaching up to tear off a branch from one of the low hanging trees then swing it aimlessly as his side. “Seems pretty obvious in my opinion,” he whacks Toby lightly with the stick making said proxy laugh. “Looks like Toby isn’t the only golden child anymore.”

“P-Probably not,” Toby hums, a slight melancholy coming into his tone. “Think I-I’ve been losing f-f-favor with h-hin for a w-while.” He glances over his shoulder and smiles at you.

You frown slightly and place your hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think so,” you say. “Just means he has two golden child-s now.”

Toby beams.

You do too.

The group continues to move through the trees, mostly silent save for Masky and Hoodie pointing out little memories from time to time. Things such as some guy named ‘Alex’ chasing them through here, Masky’s waking up with no memory, Hoodie’s nature shots, and everything in between. You learn a lot about the hands of your group from when they were just scared film students to the things they’ve done as proxies here. It’s kind of nice as you’ve never really spoken to them this way before.

When you first came into this life and were placed in this group, the hazing process kicked in like wildfire. Almost every day was a mentally or physically, sometimes both, a draining task and a bonding agent. Authority was not to be questioned and they made that more than clear. Eventually, the hazing grew lighter and lighter until it just… didn’t exist. That was how it went - you were no longer considered naive and starry eyed. Still, authority was not to be questioned, and it’s why you and your comrades have never really talked on this specific level before.

It’s why it’s such a treat that you get to talk to them like this now.

Eventually, the four of you make it to an odd stretch of trees. They tunnel over each other, a lot like a thorny funnel, but they frame the sky so well.

“If the sun was setting,” Masky starts. “It would look like a cradle.”

You take a step back and observe the tunnel of trees, trying to imagine the setting sun. The mental image is pretty. “Will we ever be back here to see it?”

“Oh definitely,” Masky continues. “But uh, the business we’re here for today? Don’t know if that’s meant for anyone but me and maybe Hoodie.”

You look on instinct to Hoodie who nods. “Is that normal?”

“Sure is,” Hoodie says as he takes in the scent of the cooling autumn woods. He knows the group is almost to the limits of the Operator’s realm. “Tell me what you feel right now, Reader,” he says in passing as he flicks the stick somewhere off the given trail.

With a glance around at your surroundings, you attempt to get a feel for the area you’re in. It’s cold, much colder, but the atmosphere still feels a little thick. The further you go into the woods (and by extension the Operator’s bounds to which you don’t even know exist yet), you get that odd feeling in your legs that feels like they’ve fallen asleep. It’s like the physical sensation of static. You try to explain it in words, but they fail. Instead, you allow Hoodie into your thoughts.

“Nice,” he smiles. “Alright, try to ask for permission in.”

“I need to ask for permission?”

“E-Everytime,” Toby begins as he and the others pause. They’re right on the edge of the bubble and can feel it so much stronger than you can. “It’s t-to ensure n-normal humans c-can’t come in,” Toby begins to explain as you gaze around your surroundings, wondering how you’ll even begin to ask. “T-Though, their f-feelings sometimes k-kick into o-overdrive and they e-end up p-piercing through the v-veil on a-a-accident.” He chuckles softly and you know exactly what he’s referring to - you’ve heard tales of the people who get stuck wandering where they shouldn’t: always ends in someone strung up in the pines. “W-We’ve all learned t-to ask p-permission like b-breathing.”

You shoot your comrade a confused glance, wondering what that will mean for you. “I just ask?”

“Kind o-of,” Toby says. “Just l-let your f-f-feelings guide you. She’ll t-t-tell you whether you’re a-a-allowed in or not.”

You close your eyes and begin to hone in on whatever your heart is telling you. It’s a cold feeling, mostly like vines that slip up and down your limbs as they grow upwards and then inwards towards your heart. It’s an odd feeling. Once the static vines pierce through your heart, you physically see a fog roll into the forest around you. It consumes you and your comrades before you remember Toby mentioned ‘she.’ The fog thickens. “Wait, she?” You say as the static begins to leave your system. It feels like you’re tearing through roots as you walk forward.

“He didn’t mean it,” Masky quickly replies as he begins to pull you through the fog. “Good job on asking though. Strong response,” he says as gestures to the fog, his hand swimming through the billowy clouds. “Wives’ tale is the stronger the fog, the more genuine you were in response.”

You wade your fingers through the thick fog as you and the others walk forward, deeper and deeper into the darkness where there was none. “Must’ve had a really genuine response, huh?” You mumble to yourself. The fog doesn’t even feel like normal fog - it feels thick and heavy and leaves slight dew on your clothing as you walk. How interesting.

‘Head talk from here on out,’ Hoodie says as the four of you reach a stretch of woods that feels slightly dangerous.

‘Did you feel it too?’ Toby asks, his hand at his hatchet.

Hoodie nods slightly, his eyes narrowing as he slows his pace so he’s guarding the back. He gives you a slightly concerned look as the fog evens out. Everyone but you knows that they’re in perhaps one of the most dangerous parts of the veil. The Operator’s mere presence is usually enough to deter the things like the Rake from his grounds, but that often means they get trapped here - in the in-between - and lash out on the first thing they sense. The sooner the four of you get out of this dangerous spot, the better.

‘What do you sense?’ You ask, cutting mentally through the rough silence, your own hand moving to your blade.

Hoodie looks like he’s about to answer you before he holds his fist up and the other three of you duck down instantly, dipping below the fog. Just then, some deer begin walking past.

‘Deer?’ You say in a questioning tone.

‘Not just any deer,’ Hoodie begins as the deer slowly nibbles on the leaves and other things. ‘Take a good look at their bodies. They look normal to you?’

You narrow your eyes slightly and get used to peering through the fog as the deer pass. Eventually, you’re able to look at their coats. There’s something off about them, something wrong. Something you can’t quite place. The longer you watch them as they move in front of you, the stronger that off feeling gets. They have every physical part of the deer down but it’s just not right. It’s like their joints don’t fit well beneath their skin. And their eyes… Their eyes are completely hollow.

‘You see it?’ Masky asks as the last of the deer passes by. He glances over his shoulder briefly to see you nod. ‘We’re lucky they didn’t change this time,’ he mumbles, slowly inching forward while crouched against the earth.

‘What would’ve happened if they changed?’ You inquire, moving quietly alongside your comrades.

‘Nightmare fuel,’ Toby finally pipes in. ‘Nothing about them looks right. Big mouths full of sharp teeth, black eyes, too many limbs, like a messed up centipede,’ he finishes, a slight shudder coming into his mental tone.

You notice the other two of your group members nodding in agreement before finally deeming it safe enough to stand up and finally exit the in-between of the veil.

You’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful, rustic looking Germanic mansion surrounded by iron gates that hold honeycomb patterns that trail skywards only to end on sharp peaks that you’re almost certain your boss has spiked people on plenty of times. There’s also flowers of every kind in the front gardens that catch your eyes the moment you step through the grand gates. There’s fountains and topiaires, statues and benches that tell you the Operator drips with style and elegance.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Masky smiles.

You nod, “it’s gorgeous.” The air smells slightly expensive, but mostly sweet. How is it that a place like this can even possibly exist? Around the mansion are autumnal trees, mostly maple, some sycamore and other birch. Scattered on the front lawn are other proxies and some independents, mostly catching up and talking before leaving through the same gates you entered from. Some of them smile and wave as they pass you, others grunt and turn their nose up at you upon realizing you’re the youngest. This place sings with the Operator’s overwhelming presence.

Your comrades continue to watch your amused expression as they lead you to the front doors of the mansion. They’re large and stained glass, slightly gothic in woodwork and tower over you.

“Go ahead,” Hoodie chuckles as he nods for you to open the doors.

You glance back to him, then at the large doors before tentatively placing your hands on their surface. With a small breath, you push them open and find yourself greeted to the most exquisite foyer you’ve ever seen. Large chandeliers hang from the ceiling, sapphires and rubies drip from the fixtures and shine the light beautifully across the marble floors. Gold leaf adorns almost everything that juts out while the huge staircase in front of you beckons you forward.

“Doesn’t seem like he needs us yet,” Masky says as he checks his watch. “Got here earlier than expected, huh?” He lightly ribs Hoodie who rolls his eyes in response. “C’mon, let’s go to the sun room. Don’t wanna wait around in here.” He nods for the three of you to follow.

Toby clears his throat slightly as if to remind the two in charge that you’re still very much here and new.

“Oh, right,” Masky says. “Reader, this is super important, so listen up,” your group leader begins as he turns on his heels to eventually rest his hands on your shoulders.

You raise a brow at his sudden contact. Masky normally didn’t touch you unless what he had to say was important - which really, really didn’t happen often.

“This mansion likes to play off your thoughts, feelings, and logic,” he says, his hand gesturing to the staircase that’s slowly moving directions. You didn’t even hear it begin to shift. “The Operator usually keeps things in line for when he summons you, it’s almost a guaranteed path you’ll make it to him, but,” his eyes go serious. “If it’s just you and you’re moving around, you need to have a place in mind or it’ll accidentally spit you out somewhere totally random. We’ve had people get lost in here because the mansion is slightly playful and weirdly baneful depending on the individual walking around.”

“The Operator has a playful side?”

Masky stifles a laugh before shaking you lightly. “I legitimately mean it, you need to have a place in mind or you’re gonna get lost and the Operator isn’t gonna be happy. By extension, I won’t be happy because I need to come get you.”

“Mhm,” Hoodie nods in agreement. “And you can’t have the thought in passing either, it’s gotta be on your mind until it’s in sight.” After Hoodie’s words leave his mouth, Masky lets you go.

You take all the information in and wonder just what makes the place run. It’s like it has its own personality - it’s playful and baneful? You have to ask it permission to even enter its grounds and it deems whether you’re worthy or not? What kind of power does the Operator even have and why on earth would he even care about that kind of stuff? If he truly wanted his proxies to access him, he’d do it with no hesitation. The humans that would wander into his rooms would just end up tasting someone’s blade.

“Sun room?” Hoodie reminds Masky.

Your entire walk to the sun room you try to conjure a mental image in your head. They say it’s doubtful you’ll get lost so long as you’re with them, but you consider it good practice. When you finally make it to the sun room, you’re pleased to see it’s relatively empty save for a few groups interspersed in the large, window adorned room overlooking a silver lake. There’s a few independents walking around with carts holding different tea time finger-foods and waiting tea sets on every table. Maasky leads you over to one of the tables nearest to the view of the lake.

“So, what business exactly are we here for today?” You ask as you waste no time in pouring yourself some tea.

Masky shrugs, “no idea. He said he just wanted us to come.”

“T-Think he r-really only n-needs an audience w-with them though,” Toby adds before silently thanking you for pouring him some tea as well. “L-Leaves us some t-t-time to chat. Y’know, t-the thing H-Hood hates us d-doing,” he lightly jokes.

Hoodie scoffs and feigns being annoyed, “I only hate you two chatting when we’re in the middle of tearing out some guy’s entrails.”

“Y-Yeah, which is a-all the time,” Toby giggles.

You laugh as well.

The four of you are in a heated argument about something relatively stupid when static overtakes Masky and Hoodie’s hearing. They visibly pause, as if they’re trying to key into something you can’t understand when it suddenly stops.

“Have t-to go?” Toby inquires before taking a strawberry tart and popping it into his mouth.

Both Masky and Hoodie nod.

“Yeah. Keep an eye on Reader, please? We won’t be too long,” Masky replies with a small, tired smile.

Toby flashes the two a thumbs up before the both of you watch them leave, a clear destination on their minds.

It’s not long until Toby gets distracted by some other independents that stroll into the mansion. You recognize the two of them as relatively minor legends - well, maybe not the one with the smile. His name is Jeff.

“So, this is your fresh meat, huh?” Jeff chuckles as he lightly pushes Toby’s shoulder. “She looks a little scrawny. Are you feeding her right?”

Toby laughs and nods, “Masky w-w-would lose his m-mind if you s-s-said that.”

Jeff’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “I’m joking,” he holds his hand up as a sign of truce. “Hope you know you’re running with one of the only decent groups out there, Reader,” he says before picking up his tea cup. It looks slightly comical as he brings it to his lips.

You offer him a smile and nod, “yeah, I know.”

The man to Jeff’s left nods in agreement, “Masky’s really good at what he does. Got one of the best.”

Toby immediately fights the notion (playfully) and the three engage in conversation that’s lively and vibrant all the same. You listen to the three verbally duke it out before you find yourself bored. You can’t just leave though, but you want to move at the same time.

“Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I excuse myself?”

“W-Where to?”

“Washroom,” you reply.

“Do y-you need m-me to a-accompany y-y-you?”

Both Eyeless Jack and Jeff scoff.

“She’s a big girl, let her go,” Jeff says as he nods his own approval for you to go. “You told her about the mindset thing?”

Toby nods.

“Yeah, then she’s good to go,” Eyeless Jack agrees.

You flash the men at your table a smile before getting up. You push in your chair and then make it to the entrance of the sunroom, leading into the halls. You don’t have a set destination in mind. The moment you step out of the sunroom, you feel the air change. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s different. On instinct, you turn your gaze over your shoulder to see the sunroom is gone. It’s just hall and lining the hall are doors upon doors.

Alright, you can work with that! A small smile comes to your face as you begin to walk forwards, allowing your curiosity to bloom. The first door you decide to open is one that’s honestly not that exciting. It was just a storage unit. Another was a study. Then it was someone’s room. Another room. And another. How many residence rooms are there?

You close yet another door and then feel a thought come into your head, taking a seat on your train of thought like a butterfly sunbathes on a flower. She - Toby had mentioned it. And you wondered. You let the thought stay. Before you know it, you’re walking through the halls guided by forces you don’t quite understand, and the further you get into the mansion, the stranger the atmosphere becomes. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s not a normal feeling either. You watch as the light fixtures change from something relatively modern and regress into something more vintage. The dust begins to kick up. Irish lace begins to pepper the ceiling. You notice how the doors change style as well. How strange.

Eventually, you reach a dead end stretch of hall. At the very end of this hall is a singular door that looks weathered, as if it was sunbleached and painted over in oils. There’s an elegance to it you can’t quite place, and like a siren song, you find yourself being beckoned to it. Your proxy instincts kick in like second nature the closer you draw to it. You feel your breathing lighten, your steps as well, and you move towards it with a silence that is unmatched - as if you’re floating on air. You draw closer and closer to the door. It’s so magnetic, and you can’t quite explain why/ But closer still you must be to it.

Your hand tenderly grasps the doorknob - it feels like ice - and you twist it open. You wonder if you should be doing this. A part of you feels like you shouldn’t be doing this, but another part of you says this is what you were meant to see. You push the door open ever so slightly, just enough to be able to see inside, but the door is heavy, almost as if it doesn’t want you to. Like it’s trying to protect you from something further. You wonder if it just wishes to keep its secrets.

It’s gorgeous, it truly is. It puts the rest of the mansion to shame. It looks old - perhaps from 16th century Germany and fit for royalty. Plants of all kinds line the walls. They look like emeralds as light shines through their leaves. The sunlight kisses the flowers that sprout from the stalks. Beautiful woodwork surrounds the windows that are covered in fairytale-esque stained glass pieces. The scent is of something much, much sweeter and warmer than the rest of the mansion. Your eyes then draw to the center of the room, where an ornate table sits. There’s gold leaf decorating its legs followed by symbols you can’t really pin down. A tablecloth that looks like it was weaved from the stars above is the only thing that separates a delicate tea set from the precious mahogany table. The tea smells heavenly from where you stand.

Before you can press into the room, you pause upon seeing slender, pale hands take hold of the tea pot. Your eyes follow upwards to the owner of the hands only to see a woman so much more beautiful than the moon in twilight and the sun in the morning. Falling from her shoulders was golden hair that looked like a sea of amber as it cascaded down near the floor. Flowers were woven into it - mostly snowdrops, baby’s breath and queen Anne’s lace. She’s dressed in something from medieval Europe, and never once does her sleeve touch the table. She begins to pour herself some tea, a honey like hum coming from her being as she pours the sweet liquid. Her eyes flick upwards for but a moment when she hears a bird chirping outside. Her eyes are so dark, there exists no white sclera. They’re so dark, like black holes that hide in the depths of space, but you feel as if she holds the universe inside of them. She’s so beautiful, you’re not sure she’s real. A cat has jumped up onto the table, purring at her. When she smiles, your heart sings.

You want to say hello to her and spend time in her presence when you attempt to open the door some more. It creaks slightly. The hinges are ancient. Before you can say anything, the door is slammed shut, sending you flying backwards. You let out a sound of shock before seeing Toby reaching down to get you.

“What t-the hell a-a-are you thinking?” He hisses as he picks you up, grabbing your bicep and beginning to drag you away from the door that still holds your attention. “You r-really just w-wandered off l-like that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, attempting to get free of his grasp as he continues to pull you along. No matter how hard you smack at him, he doesn’t let go.

“M-Masky said it’s not s-safe for y-y-you to wander o-off. A-And without m-me? D-D-Did you have a-any cognitive t-t-thought when you w-went out on a l-limb like t-that?” He sounds so heated.

You find he’s bringing you back to the sunroom, undoubtedly going to tell Masky and Hoodie about your misbehavior. “Why are you being so weird?” You retort as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. “It’s just a room!” You cry out in an exasperated tone.

Toby only reprimands you louder. It’s a losing game.

You eventually find yourself back in the sunroom. Only, instead of Eyeless Jack and Jeff, you see the deeply concerned and slightly pissed off faces of Masky and Hoodie. They’re not happy to see you, and you’re not exactly thrilled to see you either.

“Take a s-s-seat,” Toby says in a harsh tone as he thrusts you back into your seat.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Masky asks, not even attempting to mask his voice because that’s the privilege of being a proxy. You’re able to reprimand your proxies without anyone giving a care.

“You can’t just go off like that,” Hoodie continues as he furrows his brows. “You could’ve gotten-”

“Hurt? This is the Operator’s mansion, what the fuck is gonna hurt me in here other than himself or you two?”

“That’s it,” Masky points out. “He can seriously hurt you if you snoop where you shouldn’t!” His hands grips at your wrist, tightening to a point of pain.

When you feel tears prick your eyes, Hoodie sighs and puts his hand on Masky’s shoulder, “stop it.”

Masky hesitantly lets you go.

“What did you see?” Hoodie asks with a deep sigh, his posture tensing. He’s really hoping you didn’t see the Operator’s trophy room.

You give your comrades a concerned look, not sure whether you should answer or not when Hoodie raises a slight brow. Damn it. You’re emotionally compromised. He’s seeing what he needs to without your permission.

“That’s… Odd…” He says.

Masky glances to Hoodie. “No.”

“Unfortunately, I think yeah,” Hoodie says with a growing frown. He glances to Toby for confirmation, and upon seeing Toby’s nod, says “yeah,” again.

Masky groans and puts his face into his hands, finding comfort in being buried into himself.

You hold your wrist in your hand and lean back in your chair. “Just… What is it you guys aren’t telling me?” You question, hoping they’d just bite the bullet and tell you.

The group shares a look, debating whether they should even say it or not. When no one says anything, you press them again.

“Come on,” you sigh. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It really could be,” Masky says as he finally releases his face from his hands. “No one knows what seeing it does.”

Your eyes widen before you bark a laugh. “What?”

“No, he’s serious,” Hoodie picks up. “Seeing that door is rare, like, rainbow pikachu rare. Proxies think it’s an omen or a bad luck thing. To see it means a group’s eventual demise.”

You briefly scoff at the thought of proxies being superstitious before you remember some of you can actually cast portals. It’s really not that out of pocket.

“N-No one has e-e-ever found o-out though,” Toby shrugs. “W-We just know t-that the g-groups that h-h-have n-normally e-end in death.” He looks a little uncomfortable as he says the words, like there’s a legitimate truth to what he’s saying even though he’d rather it be utter BS.

“To be fair, we thought it was a rumor prior to you sneaking off,” Hoodie says as he tries to calm down his group.

You take in this information with a small frown. How could something that beautiful be that evil or a harbinger of doom? The thought of it left you perplexed as your comrades continued to lecture you on not wandering off until Masky and Hoodie were called away.

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable leaving Reader here with-”

Toby rolls his eyes, “you c-cant just s-say you want m-me to come with i-instead. N-Not need to insult m-my competence a-a-as a babysitter,” he mumbles before glancing down to his hatchets.

Masky sighs and nods for Toby to follow him out. Looks like it’s just you and Hoodie.

“So,” you awkwardly begin, not really sure what to do or what to say.

“So,” Hoodie hums back. “Anywhere you wanted to go?” When he sees the glint in your eyes, he shakes his head. “Like, a normal place. We’re gonna be here for a while while those two are out,” he chuckles, watching as you visibly deflate.

You allow the question to bang around in your head until you nod with a thought in mind. “The library. I’d like to go to the library.”

Hoodie smiles at that suggestion and finishes the rest of his tea before standing up. He stretches for a moment, then leads you to the hallway your original snooping began. You noticed as his thoughts immediately became clouded with the word and vision of ‘library’ as the two of you trekked the halls. As you walked, you barely recognized any of the doors you passed. They weren’t on your radar, which was odd in your opinion as you had opened a lot of door you probably shouldn’t have.

Eventually, you reach two large oak doors. Hoodie pushes them open and you’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful library. It’s impossibly huge - how could such a place exist in the mansion? You’re well aware it’s a huge place, but the fact that all of this is here… It’s bigger than a downtown city library you visited when passing through Chicago a few months ago. The Operator’s influence is beautiful, isn’t it?

“I’m gonna be in the sci-fi section,” Hoodie says as he nods over to the right wing of the library. “It’s on the second floor.” You notice the spiral staircase that leads to what appears to be a balcony - it must stretch backwards forever. “Check in with me in about 15 minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.” It’s surprising how relaxed he’s being with you. You would have expected someone like Hoodie to be a lot angerier and more observational.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you nod and flash him a thumb’s up before bounding over to the left wing of the library. Nothing is properly labeled, but you get a strong bout of intuition where everything is. Right now, you’re on the hunt for history.

The aisle that holds the history books looks just as old as you would have expected it to. The books here aren’t any you’ve ever seen in stores either - they’re largely from the time period they’re to be representing. Some are more modern, but you get the feeling that they don’t exist anywhere else but under the Operator’s influence. You find a few books that talk about the early history of proxies, some on independents, but nothing to inform you on what you had found.

It’s honestly a little maddening. You check in with Hoodie when you have to - he asks you to list the spines of the books you’re currently looking at - and then you’re back to your fruitless search. You run up and down the halls of the history section looking for anything when you hear static begin to buzz in your heads. The feeling travels upwards like the vines you felt earlier from your heels to your chest. When they claw deep into your heart, you feel a pull. And once again, like a sailor beckoned to the rocks due to a siren’s song, you follow it.

It twists and turns you through the shelves, making you zip past the few proxies and independents that are currently visiting this wing of the library before you’re drawn to a rotunda. You look backwards and see in the distance the front doors of the library. When did this place get a middle wing? It was just straight shelves and a wall with large windows overlooking the rolling hills of the woods. You turn your attention upwards to the ceiling of the rotunda. There’s a large skylight that allows sunlight to cascade down. Around that are gems you don’t even know the name of that weave a mosaic of something positively divine. You allow your gaze to follow the shaft of warm sunlight down, and there, sitting at a table with a book in hand (it looks like a journal) is the Operator himself.

“S-Sir!” You manage to squeak out as you find yourself startled to be in his presence, Heat rises to your cheeks when he looks up from his book to turn his attention to you.

“How did you get here?” He asks, confusion etching his body as he curiously tilts his head.

Your breath hitches. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize, bowing your head almost immediately. “I don’t know how I got here. It just felt like a pull and suddenly I was here? I was in the left wing and looking over history books and I-” you continue to rattle off until the Operator holds up his hand, silently signaling you to stop. You do so as soon as he asks.

“I-. It’s no matter,” he waves off. “Come, sit down beside me.” An inky black tendril sprouts from his back as he pulls the chair in front of him out, allowing you to sit in his presence.

You will your stone-like legs forward and attempt to gracefully take a seat in front of him. It’s a slightly awkward silence before he speaks again.

“How have you been, Miss Reader?”

“I’m alright,” you reply, voice no higher than a whisper.

The Operator hums. “Good.”

Another pregnant pause.

“Child, where is your book?”

“I uh, didn’t grab one?” You answer softly. You can tell the Operator is looking at you with what he can convey to his fullest as confusion. “When I was pulled here I just.. Followed,” you attempt to explain. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

“And what have you done today?” He asks, giving his passing attention to you like a father would.

You bite your lip before steering the conversation towards the room you saw. “I think I met someone.”

“You did, did you?”There’s a passing interest as if he’s saying ‘that’s nice, honey.’

You nod. “She was in a tea room-”

He pauses.

“I found her by accident-”

He makes sure he’s hearing you correctly.

“Her hair was golden-”

He looks up.

“She had plants-”

He’s sitting upright now.

“She had a cat-”

He leans forward.

“Her smile rivaled the stars-”

He’s focusing so intently on you now.

“Her voice was like honey-”

He entirely focused on you.

“She was beautiful.”

The Operator’s ichor pauses for just a moment as he takes in the description of the woman you described. It makes a part of him sing and another part of him sob. He hasn’t heard of her in so, so long.

When you look up, you see the Operator practically leaned halfway over the table and entirely focused on you. It makes you jump. “I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, thinking you saw something you shouldn’t have. “I wasn’t thinking and I uh, think the mansion led me to her?”

The Operator wordlessly nods. “Was she pouring tea?” He asked, voice so much gentler than anything you could ever expect him to conjure up.

You slowly nod. “She was.”

The Operator suddenly slumps down, making you jolt. You rise on instinct to help him when he waves you back down. “Do you realize who you’ve come into contact with?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I’m afraid not, Sir,” you say with slight remorse.

The Operator chuckles deeply - it rumbles his chest and in your head. “You found her.” He could smile, you were sure it would be from ear to ear if he had the correct facial features. “All these years later and you found her.” He emphasizes you like a bittersweet affirmation.

“Who is she?” You ask softly.

Your boss sits back up again. “Someone who loves me,” his tendril sprouts once again from his back and moves towards you. “Someone who loves you,” it taps your nose. “Someone who loves us.” The tendril makes a grand, sweeping gesture.

You take in the words and nod, still not knowing what they mean. Upon seeing your confusion, he decides to elaborate.

“A long, long time ago, in a realm you could not begin to fathom, there was light and there was dark,” he begins, his voice slipping into something akin to someone saying a bedtime story. “I was the light, and that cur we call Zalgo was the dark.”

You scrunch your nose at the sound of his name.

“The dark and the light were born from nothing, and she was beautiful.” His audible smile is actually endearing to hear. “Throughout the years, the light and the dark fought, constantly at each other's throats. It was woven in the threads of history, it had been our birthright. When we came to this place, this planet after being cast from our home - a palace amongst all palaces, a kingdom that rose far above any other, the nothingness came with us. She called herself Liebevolle Frau. She loved her children.” By this point in the story, the Operator has taken the liquids from the coffee cup he drinks from and animated them into the characters for this story.

You watch with stars in your eyes.

“But no guardian is without its favorites, and I happened to be hers.” Liebevolle Frau’s figure was shown sheltering the Operator’s much smaller one. “And this caused a rift that could not be mended through the light and dark. Eventually, the dark waged war on the light.”

It’s a war you’re still fighting to this day.

“In the 1500s, long after this mansion had been built and my power continued to grow, Zalgo had almost wiped us off the face of the earth to splatter out remains across all the five realms. Liebevolle Frau, thought caught off guard,” that would explain the tea, “sheltered me and protected this place and all who resided in it. At the time,” the Operator looks at you. “Independents and proxies had lived here much more commonly than they do now.”

You smile softly.

“Liebevolle Frau’s power had been pushed to its limit in holding back her first born son, and mind, as well as her heart, broke because of it. In her remaining moments of lucidity, she imbued herself, her soul,” the liquids take the form of something fluttering and soft, like a bird, “her everything, and became the place I hold jurisdiction over today.”

Your eyes widen as you think back to the odd feelings you’ve had coming here for today - and Toby’s slip-up.

“I have not been able to find her since the late 1500s,” The Operator explains as the liquids dance back into the coffee mug, the figure of Liebevolle Frau taking a hair longer than the rest. “She lives in everything.”

You’re honestly speechless over everything the Operator has said because it’s so… It’s strangely heartfelt. You’ve never even spoken face to face with your boss and when you do, it’s because some force is guiding you to do so. But if that force felt so alive, it must have meant she wanted you to know.

“Her physical form,” you finally manage to wisp out. “She wanted to be at peace, didn’t she?”

The Operator chuckles deeply. “I would assume so.”

Before you can respond to anything or even come up with another response, you hear both Masky AND Hoodie yelling for you in your head. The jarring difference between your boss’s gentle voice and Masky and Hoodie crying out for blood is enough to make you jump (once again).

Upon seeing your sudden switch in atmosphere, the Operator hushes the voices in your head and calls them to his side.

Toby is the first to show up though, and quickly trailing after him is Masky and Hoodie. They both look ready to reprimand you but upon seeing you sitting with the Operator, nothing but reverence crosses their minds and bodies.

“Good evening, Sir,” Masky says as he bows his head. “Are you well?”

“Thoughtful, aren't you, Timothy?” There’s no animosity or anger in the Operator’s tone, but it makes Masky blush all the same.

A pregnant pause passes.

“I was just speaking with your newest member, Miss Reader,” a pale hand gestures to you. “Come, join us. I could use the company.”

You watch as confused glances get shared between your three comrades before they take a seat beside you.

A pleasant silence passes through the air before a gentle humming that’s sweeter than honey overtakes it like a passing breeze.