#& it's better to embrace that about myself rather than try to 'fix' it lol

[cypr1anlatew00d]

depressing predictable frankly unchic that the idea that nonbinariness is fake or cringe or transitory is going up in concert with the binary genders being the most consolidated & narrow at the cutlural level as they've felt since like 2003.

[wearepansies]

Just comment and I will put out a part two-

PJO MUSIC ARTIST AU:

Percy;

-His artist name is Black Jackson. (BLACKJACKson?? Get it??? He named himself after blackjack kind of???? Ok I’ll see myself out-)

-Because he was born in Manhattan, out of poverty, he never had much, so he’s pretty much the most down to earth celebrity ever(think Adam Sandler kind of? But more fashionable)

-Advocates a lot for people with learning disabilities, and domestic violence victims.

-He mostly writes inside the genres rock and alternative.

-His first big break was with his original album, “feelyng bleu”

-While we’re on that, all of his songs and albums are spelled wrong. At first it was a mistake, but Percy slowly just made it his own thing. Made him feel a lot better about his dyslexia.

- Is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.

-He’s also a socially awkward, insecure mess though.

- He starts every concert of his off by thanking his Mother, and asking whether “ his audience is ready to fuck themselves up tonight??”

-Absolute bicon

-Has clips of his funny exchanges with interviewers all over YouTube

Annabeth;

-Just uses her actual name.

-She doesn’t see the point in trying to make a career under a fake name. Nah. She wants people SCREAMING her name from the audience.

-Contrary to that wish though, she’s not actually famous.

-It’s more like…a hobby she does for fun, but also dreams about turning into a career.

-In reality though, she’s an architecture student who really just needs money to fix the damn sink.

- She actually knew Percy WAY before he became famous, since they were eleven actually.

-Annabeths music is more like…alternative folk.

-She uses all sorts of architecture metaphors and terms in her music.

-She doesn’t sing about buildings though. She talks about all sorts of social class problems she thinks are important. The figurative, poetic architecture language she uses is just her musical signature(and a fun way to be nerdy).

-She has a decent amount of followers.

- Is rather cold when you meet her, but is secretly just a softie.

- Is the artist who makes songs based off books and posts them on TikTok (sorry not sorry)

-She also has a podcast that’s unfortunately more popular than her nonexistent music career lol.

- She wears lots of academic looking clothes, but also has lots of flow-y looking tops, and lots of chique Greek outfits because she loves embracing her culture.

- Is friends with everyone from the famous band “Ride or Die” (Beckendorf, Silena, Clarisse, Connor, Travis, and Katie)

Grover;

-Goes by the music name “Child of the W1ld”

-He’s not really a famous music artist honestly? More like a TikTok celebrity.

-He’s famous for his pan flute and ocarina covers of different songs.

-His most popular, aka the one that made him famous, was Celine Dion’s “my heart will go on”

-Posts all sorts of TikTok’s of him playing his instruments in random places lmao

-Is the most cottage core hipster to ever cottage core.

- He and Percy are besties! They support each other whenever they can, advertise, do videos, and just chill out and hang.

- They’re such opposites aesthetically though. People were actually so shocked when they first saw them together lmao.

- Whenever Percy uploads a new album or song, he’ll make a cover of it.

-Not only because he loves his best friend, but also because it’s challenging.

-Wears an alarming amount of skirts, and pants that go halfway to his calves.

[m34gs]

For the character ask meme: Shuuhei (Bleach), Idia (Twisted Wonderland), and Maki (Fire Force).

Thank you for the ask, friend! (from this post) I had to think a lot to answer this, and I apologize for the slight delay💜

Shuuhei (Bleach)

Three things we have in Common:

Avoiding violence/conflict: Hisagi really respects Tousen's ideals of taking the "path with the least bloodshed", which can easily translate to avoiding conflict or trying to de-escalate situations rather than fighting. In my line of work, conflict is something we try to resolve peacefully and we actually have to take courses on de-escalation.

Struggling with overwhelming responsibilities: Shuuhei has to step up as the leader for his squad when Tousen betrays them. He was already Lieutenant, and it's not that he becomes captain or gets an assistant, he is just suddenly expected to perform both roles while still remaining at the llieutenant rank. Similarly, when I started the position I am currently in at work, I was handed a large mess of a caseload and expected to manage it entirely, with some support but with me being the most responsible. I am the one providing direction to several other people, and the one they ask questions of when they needed clarification, which is fine but with the size and intensity of the caseload I barely had space to breathe. I had to have a literal breakdown before management tried to actually do anything worthwhile in terms of trying to fix what was happening. And yes, I had been asking them for help for months.

Love of Music: Shuuhei has a guitar he got from the human world, and he loves to practice on it. I also love music and love to practice both singing and the piano.

Three things we don't have in common:

Appearance: I look absolutely nothing like Shuuhei, and my style is nowhere near his. (Though I think he is Very Very Handsome, and his style is really cool and something I wish I could pull off without feeling insecure)

Mood: Shuuhei is calm and stoic most of the time. Yes, I know he struggles with his own fear, but he also embraces it as part of who he is as a soldier, and it doesn't seem to plague him during his every day activities. I am riddled with anxiety and struggle heavily with self-esteem. I may appear calm, but inside my heart is racing.

Physical abilities: Shuuhei is a soldier, he is very physically capable and graceful. I trip over my own feet and clip my shoulder on doorknobs regularly.

Idia (Twisted Wonderland)

Three things we have in common:

Love of cats: I am absolutely ecstatic that it is canon Idia loves cats. I also love cats (especially my own baby) and I love snuggling them. :D

Introversion: Idia is a very introverted character, and is shown more than once to prefer being alone to being in large crowds. That is me to a T. I don't hate people, but I do prefer not to be around massive groups, especially if they're people I don't know.

Sarcasm: Idia is extremely sarcastic when he does talk, and I absolutely love it! I thrive on sarcasm and dry humour.

Three things we don't have in common:

People pleasing: I am a recovering people-pleaser. It is so hard to fight that instinct to just try to make everyone else happy at my own expense. Idia is not that. He does not like going above and beyond for others, which honestly is something I admire because I do need to continue working on setting my boundaries and putting myself first.

Tech-savvy: Idia is extremely tech-savvy. I am not. I can trouble-shoot to a small extent and I can infer things...and I can call the IT help line. Idia would be *running* the IT help line. lol.

Bitterness: Idia tends to have a very bitter worldview. While my own worldview can at times be bleak or a bit gloomy, I tend to be less bitter about things other people do to me and I internalize 'blame' (for lack of a better word), where Idia seems to internalize it a bit less and put more external blame (such as how he blames his parents for the way he treats his classmates in book 6 at Styx; stating that he doesn't want to be there and that it isn't his fault, and that he is suffering too. Not that I'm saying he's doing anything bad or that he's wrong, we just have different ways we look at situations).

Maki (Fire Force)

Three things we have in common:

Insecure about looks: Maki wants to be perceived as very feminine and pretty. She often worries and stresses about her body type, and thinks she is too muscular to be considered pretty. While I may have a softer and curvier body type, I also still stress over my looks and wanting to appear feminine. Because I am a larger person, I often feel my body and my looks come across more masculine. I hate that. I like looking very feminine. It is a huge insecurity for me.

Reluctance for violence: despite being a soldier, Maki does not want to hurt people. She will use force as necessary but that doesn't mean she likes to. I also do not like violence and I try to prevent and/or avoid conflict (depending on the situation).

Silliness: Maki likes using her fire abilities for fun, making little puffballs of flame and naming them. It's really cute, and it shows her silly side a bit, which I really like. I also have a bit of a silly side, and I like cute things similar to what Maki likes, so I identify with that a lot.

Three things we don't have in common:

Clothes: Maki often wears a shirt and jeans when dressed in civilian clothing, and feels as though her body can't pull off dresses and skirts. I go the opposite way, and purposefully wear skirts and dresses as much as I can because 1. I like it and it's comfy and 2. it helps me feel more feminine and less insecure.

Mishearing others: Maki often seems to mishear what others say about her and immediately leaps to the conclusion they are insulting her. She becomes very angry when this happens. I also tend to mishear others, but I prefer to ask for clarification and then laugh off the misunderstanding rather than to immediately jump to accusations and fighting.

Physical abilities: Maki is a soldier and is very skilled in combat. I am not. Once again, I tend to run into things quite a bit and I do not have combat training.

There you go! Hope you enjoyed those answers. Thank you again for the ask, friend!!

[dreamii-yume]

New Episode Update Let’s GOO!!!

Warning : This is just Yume having a mental breakdown, seriously. This episode update was WHACK.

~ MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 68-75 ~

I know we ain’t participating and all but the game reminding you that there’s 10 minutes left to prepare is seriously bad for my heart.

Aah, shiet. Vil is still hurt.

He still has small wounds and scratches that he hid make up. Daddy, I’m worried.

Apparently, yeah, I’m not the only one cause my homeboy, Epel just asked to switch the center role with Vil. THE CONFIDENCE.

Aw, he’s worried about him falling over during stage (And make the performance look bad) Come on, Epel just be honest-

...He finally became the ideal poisoned apple that Vil wanted, huh?

Vil being proud a mom.

But the queen inside him is STRONG.

He’ll embrace the villain in him, OUR QUEEN CAN STILL GO. INJURED, WHO?

...AAND he proceeds to roast Epel again lol Typical Vil.

I love how Epel just accepted a nickname like “Doku Ringo-chan” lol It’s so cute, senior-junior relationship goals right there.

HERE WE GO.

Everyone is actually really confident hahaha

I really wish Deuce’s mom, Ace’s brother, Jamil’s sister, and Vil’s dad were here in person to watch.

HECK I WANT KALIM’S WHOLE FAMILY HERE WHY NOT

T-THEY’RE REALLY LETTING US HEAR THE FULL SONG. 

IS THAT JAMIL RAPPING.

Look at Jamil’s solo SD dancing. LOOK AT IT.

I really fucking love Vil’s singing voice aaa

HIS VOICE IS SO GOOD.

Album when disney.

Is Vil okay.

...aight im hearing some high quality panting here

...dont mind me listening to it a bit too much...

...they’re going to be great reference for some spicy- leave me alone

Vil panting is making me feel SOMETHING.

ANYWAY. THE CROWD IS A MOOD.

IS VIL OKAY.

Unmei no megami is giving me idia ptsd here.

Heartslabyul Senpais are watching their kids, looking all proud *sniff

Oh god, after playing Obey Me, it just occurred to me how similar Cater and Asmodeus’ voices are...

Watch these Senpai dorks act like Ace and Deuce’s second family. Trey being the dad, Riddle being the mom, and Cater being the supportive big bro. It’s so beautiful.

Riddle’s voice is a lot more softer now, I just realized...It’s so soothing...

God i miss u too octavinelle never change

Yeah, why tf did Floyd not audition for this

Bro, can you imagine Nobuhiko Okamoto in the squad as well??? IMAGINE-

Of course, he wasn’t in the mood back then. Of course. Why did i even ask.

IMAGINE FLOYD BEING IN VDC NEXT YEAR.

Omg i miss u too octavinelle never change

Azul’s gonna overblot again with Floyd’s marketing skills lol

Jade coming in like welp i guess thats that. Too bad, huh Azul?

GOD i miss u too octavinelle never change

SAVANA BITCHES HI

I wonder if these mfs knew that Vil just overblotted and malmal was the one who fixed the stage lol

oooh Leona’s sus about something he a sharp boi

Speak up my guy—

still so weird leona taking his job seriously

Malleus looking happier seeing this performance rather than Lilia’s lol

I miss the simpery in Sebek

Silver’s not in the verge of falling into a coma for once wow

Chenya’s so cute.

AND WE’RE BACK TO CUTE HEIGH HO TEAM

fcking shotacons man...im not one to talk

Aw, they didn’t show Neige performance...

The simping in the crowd is a MASSIVE mood.

WHO WINS TELL ME

These night raven fuckers better vote for us and not pull a “oh shie my hand slipped lololol” i swear to god- im gonna throw hands

*me holding my phone and pretending to vote as well

Suspense music intensifies be like-

HAAA

BOIS, ITS ONE VOTE DIFFERENCE WHO IS IT AAAA

WHAT.

HOW DARE- HOW!? HOW DID WE LOSE!?

WE LOST BY ONE VOTE!?

EVERYONE’S SO SHOCKED LOL

vil pls dont overblot again-

Noooo grim’s tuna cans-

WE REALLY LOST TO A LEGIT KIDS SONG.

These children do not have the right to be this cute. I wanna take Timmy, Toby, and Shelpie home.

I swear to god one of these dwarves sounds like Cheka lol Is it Toby?

EPEEELLLL DONT CRRYYYY

KALIMMMM DONT CRRYYYY

KALIM HAVING THE AUDACITY TO SOUNDING LIKE A BIG BROTHER AND THEN CRYING HIS OWN RIGHT AFTER LOLOLOL

I HATE THIS EPISODE YALL MADE MY TWO BOIS CRY IM FIGHTING THIS EPISODE. BURN THIS.

This background music too though im deeeeddd

KALIM IM SO SORRY FOR MAKING A SINFIC ABOUT YOU PLS DONT CRY-

Jamil impressed about Vil being “calm” and Vil just going “h e h. you dont even know.”

....ha...

Monsieur Rook. WHAT did you say.

ROOK VOTED FOR ROYAL SWORD. Are you kidding me. You snek how could you- i loved you

WHAT DID I SAY- Ya’ll night raven fuckers shall not slip by their fingers when voting rook.

Vil is in the brink of passing out aaaaa

I have never heard Ace this pissed before whoa- lol he sounds like Deuce in his delinquent mode

Aw...Rook felt that Neige’s performance carries a stronger bond than theirs :’( it’s hard to put the blame on him when he’s saying all these stuff

It’s just like what they said in the past episodes that it’s really hard voting for your own team when you know the opposing team is better.

Aww...He just wanted Vil to believe in himself more...Rook is such a best man. Im crying-

Oh noooo is Vil gonna cry too nooo- daddy turned to baby really quick SOMEONE GIVE HIM AN EMERGENCY HUG

Well- at least...at least the 100 year record of not being able to win is still going, yeah? Um...bad joke? Sorry, i’ll see myself out-

NEIGE NOT NOW AND YOUR VII-KUN BULLSHIT- we’re having a moment here

Neige is such sweetheart but aaaahh— This makes it worse, we can’t even hate him aaa—

OMG JUST WHEN I THOUGHT THINGS COULDN’T- AAAAA

MONSIEUR ROOK. YOU’RE A FAN OF NEIGE!?

MOTHERFUCKER just got exposed by Neige himself lol

Going to Neige’s shake hand events, sending him letters, buying all his merch and shie- HE’S A FULL BLOWN NEIGE STAN

WTF YOU SNEK GET OUT OF THIS SCHOOL-

OOOOHHH THAT FUCKING ALBUM- HIS “LIFE’S WORK” or whatever bullshit IS FULL OF NEIGE

...actually- my japanese is lacking- im not sure lol what is a ブロマイド??? Lol I feel like a clown.

Rook is sweating profusely LOL

...what do you have to say for yourself, monsieur rook.

Wait- huh is that-

IS HE GONNA CRY-

WHY IS EVERYONE CRYING!??!?!?!

HE’S SILENTLY CRYING AS HE INTRODUCED HIMSELF TO NEIGE WHAT. THE. FUCK IS THIS EPISODE.

Neige fanclub??? Eternal Snow??? What kind of creepy-ass- OH, HE EVEN HAS A MEMBERSHIP NUMBER TOO-

Props to Neige with his :) expression unfaltering.

I’m- I’m speechless.

Vil is just looking down at Rook in disappointment like- “you’re more pathetic than I am”

Queen just went “I think you need this handkerchief more than I do now” THAT’S RIGHT. REPENT MOTHERFUCKER.

Rook crying is cursed.

But damn, I’m kinda liking this new relationship this bitchy relationship they have

Neige just dragged everyone’s ass back on stage and his snow white energy just said “LETS ALL BE FRIENDS AND SING”

NEIGE IS FUCKING GREAT- HE REALLY DID GOT THESE BITCHES TO SING HEIGH HO LOL

ACE’S RELUCTANT SINGING AND DEUCE LOOKING LIKE HE’S HAVING FUN

KALIM IS SUCH A MOOD, SINGING EVEN WITHOUT KNOWING THE LYRICS AND JAMIL JUST HAVING THAT “i want to die” ENERGY

AIGHT. ROOK IS HAVING WAY TOO MUCH FUN AND EPEL IS TRYING HIS BEST. HE’S SO CUTE-

OMG NEIGE AND VIL HAVING SUCH GOOD HARMONY—

YAHOO Y A H O O TANOSHIINDA~~ 

YA’LL SURE ABOUT GIVING ME THIS BLESSED MOMENT??

What a somewhat happy ending, even though Rook just backstabbed us I’m crying Beauté 100 points!!!

LOL Vil realizing he’s having fun singing with Neige- “SOMEONE JUST END ME RIGHT NOW-“ The desperation in his voice-

I love how Neige’s yahoo yahoo is messing with everyone’s head, even Vil wants to pass out lol

haha Crowley is so depressed lol

WHA- WHO-

HEADMASTER OF ROYAL SWORD!?

He looks like your typical grandpa- and his outfit looks like that one mickey mouse wizard outfit but blue—

Old man just went “we won lol” just to piss Crowley off I like this guy’s energy already-

Crowley being most likely as old as this guy—

ooohh this man just sensed something in this stage- Leona did too, didn’t he???

* Damn. Crowley talking so fast sounds like he’s making a load of bullshit lol

Anyway, I’m just glad that it’s not mickey mouse who’s the headmaster— I would’ve lost my shit.

We’re back in our dorms and I forgot that the squad doesn’t live with us anymore. It’s suddenly so lonely now...

Grim is getting the yahoo yahoo ptsd too lol it’s too goddamn catchy

oooohh shiet- mickey is calling us again

YES we finally got a good picture of this motherfucker

It seems like nothing is disrupting our communication this time, so MC thought to call Grim but—

Grim is not here.

Uuhhh...Grim? Where you’ve gone??? We’re getting flashbacks of the first parts of the game.

We went out to find Grim and HE’S CHOMPING ON ANOTHER BLACK STONE ON THE STAGE-

GRIM SPIT THAT OUT YOU LOOK TERRIFYING

AAAAAHH GRIM HAS GONE FERAL— He’s attacking US

Is this because we didn’t win his tuna canss nooo

NoOO SWEET BABY COME BACK.

Legit I’m sad, please baby don’t overblot like this...

He learned a new move though- SCRATCH

Ooh— We’re seeing some Ignihyde scenes here~

P U H I H I

Idia getting a lot of emails from bigshot companies whoa—

THAT OLYMPUS—?! EXCUSE ME??? Ortho what- Are we finally getting that Hercules episode—

Damn getting a hot chance in olympus only to put them down the recycling bin oof— Idia why edit : Yume was informed that olympus is kind of a company that sponsored VDC sorry she was mind-fucked at this moment and the ability to understand proper Japanese just went whoosh lol Thanks to @starshiningsirius for pointing it out for Yume~ ♥︎ HONESTLY YUME’S JUST GONNA WAIT FOR ACTUAL PROFESSIONAL TRANSLATORS AT THIS POINT LOL Don’t trust me for important situation too much lol

Aaaahh...We’re getting this shut-in out of his room in the next episode, are we?

And that concludes the whole Pomefiore Episode! JESUS CHRIST 75 CHAPTERS ALL IN ALL!? How long is the Ignihyde chapter going to be, huh!?

This was a really, really fun episode lol I’d consider this a fan service episode actually cause of all the things we get to experience— The singing, dancing, and the new songs, THE DRAMA. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

But then, the plot thickens, no? What’s going to happen to Grim? In the Ignihyde episode? And those reoccurring memories of us? And our relationship with Tsunotarou lol ALSO WE NEVER REALLY DID FIND OUT WHAT ROOK’S UNIQUE MAGIC IS. DISNEY EXPLAIN—

Thanks for reading this shitpost of Yume losing her shiet lol See you all in the Ignihyde Episode~ ❤

[skiesclouded]

✨ talk about bruno no no n oooo lol (adivinoperdido)

Send ✨ for my muse to talk about (one of) their sibling(s).

"Oh, Brunito," her face goes abruptly rather soft, and she bites her thumb, trying to gather all her thoughts before she can make herself rain by going on an unwanted tangent.

"When we were young, Bruno felt like the only person I could fully relate to. He couldn't understand me in every way, especially when myself and Julieta started.. maturing," she clears her throat and starts to blush, "but he understood me better than even mamá could. It felt that way a lot when we were still.. a trio." They're three individual people now, even if their hearts and minds feel in sync more often than not. The thought is hard to swallow, but she continues. "I don't know.. what's wrong with us, but my hermanito has always been able to embrace his otherness in a way I can't always do. I think he wants me to, but I can't be a reliable mother and daughter and wife and be me."

"Bruno really is the best of us sometimes. He's always been so good at keeping me and Julieta happy, and he's wonderful with the children," her smile brightens as some old memories of Bruno entertaining her children resurface. She knows his relationship with her Camilo is especially strained, but they've been working on fixing it, recently.

"Was it unfair to treat him the way we all did after he left? Absolutely. But I also know all that avoidance.. it was the only way I could keep myself from ruining everything and leaving too! So I'm not sure I regret it."

@adivinoperdido

[anonymous0writer]

I Love Him II JJ Maybank

Author: @anonymous0writer​

Request: Yes!

“song request: i luv him. by catie turner x jj maybank“

Warnings: Angst dude. angst. 

A/N: This was amazing to write lol. also it’s a tiny bit confusing bc it’s all different points in their relationship meshing into this one, so the times are confusing. 

But basically it’s just now, before and after. i guess. I put “Before” “After” “Now” before the text so y’all know :)

Tags: @jayjaymaebank @rudys-pankow @maaybanks@everydayimfangirling @outrbank @thelocalpogue @decap-quadrant @ahhireallydontknow @never-ever-too-many-fandoms@kylosleftbuttcheek @insanitysparkles @divcrdown @youfookendonut @dpaccione​ @outerbanksbro​  @jjs-housekeeping​ @teenwaywardasgardian​ @traumaflavouredjuulpod @magnuolia @sarapage89 @emsma11 @bxbyyyjocelyn​ @teamnick​ @jjmbanks​ @thesurfingsnail @lulubutton34​ @obxsummer​ @katiaw2​ @poguecollins​ @notaninstagrammodel​ @danicarosaline​ @timmyswrld​ @gmwlover100​ @koufaxx @bellaguarneri​ @diverrdown​ @drewswannabegirl​ @lordsagittarius​ @drew-starkey​ @mahleeyuh​ @starkeymarkey​ @mcarignan @copper-boom​ @jessica-112​ @alternativehp​

(if your user is striked, that means i can’t tag you, message me and we can try to fix it!)

Song lyrics look like this

-Now

He's what I want But I'm not what he needs He needs to wake up and look in the mirror And like just what he sees

You stared at the boy in front of you, lip caught between your teeth as you bit it, your eyes giving away what you were feeling.

You felt like reaching out, so your fingertips could brush his skin and you felt the heat of his skin and made sure he was still breathing and safe. You needed to know the exact heat of his skin and feel the living boy, but you refrained, keeping your feelings on a tight leash. This was for him. And if you ruined that, shattered that moment, you could never forgive yourself. Yet you found your fingers twitching and a tear pricking your eyes. 

Your lips trembled, but you closed them together, letting the boy leave. Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks like waterfalls. Pushing them back you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to cry because you knew that if you started, you wouldn’t stop. And he didn’t need that. Didn’t need to hear your erratic, uncontrolled sobs and your heart break. Plus, this wasn’t about you. This was about him. All of this was for him. He needed to get better and you loved him too much to not get him help.

A sob tried to escape your lips, so you bit down on your lip so hard it drew blood. You didn’t even wince as the tangy flavor filled your mouth. You just watched his blonde head bob as he ducked under the doorway and his feet carried him away. The sobs were silent, but they racked your body, tearing your strength away slowly. 

You wanted him. Wanted to keep him safe and happy and love him. You wanted him more than anything, but you knew that you weren’t what he needed. And that broke you the most.

And it kills me That I have to leave To watch him go get better 'Cause I'd set myself on fire If it meant he'd come back after

The warm, embracing air did nothing to soothe or warm you. Your feet shifted against the gravel of the driveway, unable to keep still. Your heart ached, breaking in the tiny cavity in your ribs. Every fiber of your begin weeped. Screamed for you to run back to the blonde, wrap him in your arms and let him kiss you. To feel his lips work against yours, everything around you fading into a haze of nothing. 

But you need to leave. So you bit your lip, trying to keep the wave of emotions in your gut at bay. You needed to leave so he could heal and get better. So you gripped the door handle a little tighter and without a second thought, you ripped the door open. The cool seats slid against your thighs as you climbed in and you started the car, the engine rumbling to life as you stared blankly ahead. The car lurched as you pressed on the gas and you sped off, gravel spitting behind your tires. The car left the driveway and disappeared, you with it. 

Clean break. That’s what this was. You needed to leave the boy so he could heal and grow. And love himself. And it was better to rip off the band aid fast rather than painfully slow right?

You would leave him alone, let him heal in solitude and then hopefully, he’d come back to you. You prayed and hoped so much the words were almost empty in their meaning when you whispered them into the dark. 

As you turned onto a long road, the car moving smoothly, a sob slipped from your raw lips. Tears fell without warning, dripping down your cheek and dropping along your neck. You tasted the salt of your tears as they touched your lips. With a shaking hand, you clicked on the radio, music flooding the cabin of the car. You needed the music to drown out the sound of your weeping. Needed it to drown the sound of your broken heart and the roar of the world around you. 

But hope still fluttered in your chest like a caged bird. You hoped and prayed that he would come back. Back to you. Because, god, you needed him back.

Because I love him I love him That's why I'm letting him go I love him and I want him But we both need time to grow

“This is the right thing,” You spoke, your voice even except for the slight waver at the end. You swallowed your emotions and nodded, as if you needed to say the words to believe them. As if you said them enough- like you said your hopes- they would create a foundation. Become real and solid, and true. 

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, knowing you needed to look him in the eye for him to see that. To see the truth to your words. His cerulean eyes swam with tears, matching your own. His bruised hands gripped each other so hard they turned white and his jaw was clenched tightly. He was trying to keep it together, just like you. The similarity broke your heart. Soon, you’d be saying goodbye and praying he’d get better. 

Your lips tugged into a frown that seemed permanently etched on your face as your eyes found the scars and memories of a bad life littering his skin. His black eye, dark and fading into a deep purple along the edges. Cuts marring the soft skin, red and short, but stark and angry. The fading, almost gone bruises that were like patches on his skin, yellow and old, but with slight pressure still hurt. His face and skin were littered with the memories of a young kid flinching away from his father’s hand or wincing when he took too sharp of a breath because his ribs were still recovering.

“We,” You paused the words coming out of your throat sharp and jagged. “We need time. Time to heal and grow.” You closed your eyes, eyelashes resting on your cheek. “We- I need to let you go. So you can heal.”

The words sat heavy in the air until JJ took a big breath, his chest hitching and his eyes rapt on your face. “What does this mean for us?”

You knew what he was asking. So you gave a smile. As big as you could muster, eyes shining with sadness and lips widening. But the smile dropped and your hand darted forward to grip his own. Naturally, your fingers threaded with his, yours fitting into the divots of his and he squeezed your hand. 

“I still love you, J. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Your eyes met and everything dropped. The sounds around you, the soft crashing of the waves, the calls of the birds. The hum of other people laughing and chattering. The crunch of gravel under a tire and the squeal of cars as they rushed past. No sound seeped into your ears, and your surroundings faded away to nothing. It was just you and him. Eyes locked and hands locked. Souls locked. 

“I love you.”

-After

And if the world was kind I could make him stay It pains me to think of a girl Who gets to trace his veins I love him But it's better off this way

You lay in bed, legs tangled with the sheets, chest rising and falling softly and a big shirt hanging off your frame. However, the shirt wasn’t yours. It was his, and it still smells like him, sea salt and a hint of weed mixing in your senses. You had found the shirt tucked in the back of your dresser without a second to think about it, you slipped it over your naked body and pulled on underwear, sinking into your bed. You had meant to fall asleep hours ago, but he tormented you. 

Thoughts of his eyes and smile searing behind your eyes when you closed them. The sound of his laugh and the click of his tongue in your ears. The memory of his fingers trailing along your skin ghostly.

You stared at the ceiling, blinking against the dark. By now the dark was welcome, for you had stayed up till the dead of night and the rise of morning far too many times to be afraid by the blindfold it provided. You took a deep breath, hand on your chest moving with the rise and fall of your ribs. You gasped as you trailed your hands along the bare skin of your stomach that your shirt- his shirt- exposed. Goosebumps raised on your skin, brought on by the cold of your fingertips against your feverish skin. 

I bet she gets to trace his skin. The thought slipped past your defenses and had brought you to your knees. A broken, dry sob escaped your mouth and your hand fell flat against your hot skin. The noise was a strangled cry of desperation and pain. 

Tracing his skin and running her hands up and down his skin. His golden skin was so soft and smooth. His golden skin peppered with the occasional freckle.Freckles you hunted for, finger tips running along his skin, and when you found one, you attacked it with a kiss, making the boy beneath you huff a laugh. She gets to follow the crevices and plains of his chest with her fingers, like I did. She gets to kiss and explore his skin. She gets to please him and locks her fingers with him, where her fingers fit into the divot of his. He’d close his eyes as she giggles against his skin and kisses him, snuggling into his warmth.She gets to trace his veins and map his skin like the constellations in the sky. Constellations he taught her just like me, pointing them out with a soft, far away smile on his lips. 

But the thought that killed you the most?

She gets to love him.

-Before

We had the best time And he was all mine And I never wanna leave We'd stay up all night And when he drifts off I can't help but watch him sleep

You giggled and your fingers tighten in his luminous hair. You smiled down at the golden locks, running your hands slowly through them, twisting and curling them. The boy smiled, loving that he was in your grip. His speech flowed easily, coaxing laughs and comments from you. You two were cuddled on the couch, laughing and grinning like fools in love. Because you were fools in love. Madly in love. 

You two stayed like that, JJ laying between your legs and your fingers in his hair as you talked, for hours. Until the sun started peaking behind the edge of the horizon. But you were the only one awake, hands stalling in his blonde locks and eyes dropping to watch the boy in your arms sleep. His mouth was slightly agape, soft, even breathing filling and leaving his chest. You smiled at the sight, warmth and love blossoming in your chest as you watched the boy drift into a dream. That’s when you realized. Really realized. 

You loved him.

-Now

I love him I love him That's why I'm letting him go I love him and I want him But we both need time to grow

“Goodbye, JJ.” 

[she-who-the-river-could-not-hold]

#100daysofwriting | day 023 + 024

a daily writing challenge created by @the-wip-project // tagging my fellow writers joining in on the fun: @kinetic-elaboration, @thelittlefanpire, @hopskipaway, @easilydistractedbyfanfic

Completely spaced on doing this yesterday even though I definitely thought about it for a bit! Yesterday’s question was about watching/reading something and thinking “Oh I can do this so much better!”... which is coincidentally a large part of being a fanfic writer lol. But my answer to this also ties into today’s question which is “I want to steal that” idea.

I’m continually frustrated by storytelling in most mediums but when I turn to fanfic, despite it usually being a chance to “change” canon, that’s not my goal. I don’t necessarily want to fix what I deem poorly done; I’m interested in creating my own stories but using the sandbox of fanfiction to do it. In a way it’s me more so approaching the lack of stories that I want to see (ex: writing Raven as what I’ve dubbed “Sad Space Girl™” since most sci-fi movies only feature what I call ““Sad Space Boys™” like Interstellar, Ad Astra, etc). Sometimes I write a fic that is actually in homage to something that I already love. Often a movie or plot that really spoke to me and I want to expand it or share it with others in a format that is more accessible/different. Since one of my soap boxes is the decline of genre movies being made, I tend to watch those and then translate it over to a fic. Genres and heavily cinematic movies are what inspire me most so most of my writing is me trying to capture that feeling but through writing. It’s my own version of saying “I could write xyz better than this movie did” but then also paying homage to its origins. I’ve recently started doing this a lot with video games as well, studying how they approach storytelling and world building.

Maybe that’s why my feelings towards fanfic often change quite a bit. I’m not writing this to fix anything or change what I think the writers/show runners did wrong. And sometimes that feels like it gives me better longevity rather than grounding my inspiration in annoyance, but it also can make it sometimes feel fleeting. It’s strange but fun and that’s why I love this type of writing. I get to enjoy creating something without the leg work of worrying about all new original details! Because it can be a sometimes low-pressure way to embrace elements of stories that I love and create it for myself, without it having to be a job or worry about getting paid for it.

Fic(s) Worked On Today:

Bellarke, Midsommar AU:

I did a lot of extensive outlining for it yesterday! Working through the details early really helped me get some of the pacing correct, especially as I shifted some of the plot points. I’m reaching the point where things will deviate more from the movie (or work in different scenes from the director’s cut) and I’m really glad I’m taking the time to flush it out. I think it’s going to be a lot stronger for it and this weekend I'm planning on writing a lot of it

Bellarke, Sci-Fi/Hanahaki AU:

Pretty much just more outlining! Chapter two is nearly done being outlined, which I’m trying to do before I jump back into writing the first chapter so I can make sure I get the right details for it

I need to go on the hunt to find some good sci-fi instrumentals to write to while I work on this, I have one maybe but I’ll have to see if it’s the right vibe

link to my ao3 | masterlist of these posts

[vendeavendea]

How Entrapta Has Become My All Time Favourite Autistic Representation in Media: Long Version

Just so you know what to expect, this is more of a very long and boring personal post and less of a character analysis. By "very long", I mean "very long". Also, half of it was written at night when I was supposed to be sleeping (like, right now), so some parts might not even make sense. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Just days before I started to watch She-Ra, I answered a question in a writer group where someone asked what are the do's and don'ts of writing an autistic character. I've been told a couple of times in my life that I can’t be autistic based on the fact that I'm not really interested in or good at science, so I think special interests of autistic people are something that definitely has to be presented better in media. So I advised this person to make their character have a special interest that's NOT related to science, technology, space or computers, because it's a very common misconception that people on the autism spectrum are always into these stuff, and there are so many autistic fictional characters based on this stereotype that I feel like we absolutely don't need any more.

And then I saw Entrapta.

I didn't know she's canonically autistic until a much later episode, but it didn't surprise me when I was told she is, because my autism radar went off like a hundred times while watching System Failure and all her other season 1 appearances (so did my ADHD radar, by the way, but as far as I know, this hasn't been confirmed by the creators, so it's just my headcanon). And she looked like the purple ponytails princess version of the autism stereotype that I didn’t want to see any more of. The genius who is into space and robots, knows nothing about human relationships and keeps driving everyone nuts with her long and impossible-to-follow scientific monologues. Also cute and funny, yeah, but still, as someone on the spectrum who is super artistic and has nothing to do with science stuff, my first reaction was "dang, not this shit again." Just for once in my life, I wanted to see an autistic representation that's not just that typical weird tech-lover but a character that's at least a tiny bit more like me. Seeing her only in her first episode, little did I know that Entrapta's character has an incredible depth and her whole arc was going to be hair-raisingly personal to me (I know I'm not funny, but pun intended).

First, let’s talk about robots, because we can't talk about Entrapta without talking about robots. Entrapta builds robots just for fun, because technology is her thing, but there's actually a lot more behind this. Starting from as early as her debute episode, we see through the whole series that she creates robots with different designs, abilities, personalities, very similar to real people, as a sort of substitute for the human (or whatever species) company she'd wish to have. She even gives them names. She programs them to like being around her, to understand her, something that she hasn't really experienced from real people, which is sad enough on its own, but even sadder if we consider that she actually has human staff working at her fortress. She pretty literally makes friends, and she does it with the help of her special interest. And this totally reminds me of my primary school years when I had zero real friends and used my special interest, which was writing fictional stories and creating worlds/universes/languages in my head, to make up imaginary characters that could be my "friends" so that I wouldn't be that lonely.

Then, her interactions with other characters, especially with Hordak. Entrapta consoling Hordak in Huntara is a very powerful scene to me, not only what she says, but also how she says it. When Hordak starts venting about how he is a failure and all, Entrapta's first immediate response is to provide a practical solution, to design an armor for him, and comforting him with words is only a secondary action. She's helping in her own way, with technology, because that's what she's the best at, but she also wants to make sure he understands that fixing imperfections isn't always the solution, embracing them is. I also love how it's hinted with the "loved" crystal that Entrapta's love language may be acts of service (and probably quality time as well), which is another thing we have in common. And there's another thing in that scene I found very relatable: that part when she stops consoling him and starts to talk about herself being a failure instead. In real life, most people would read that in a negative way. I've been in many situations where I've tried doing something similar to people who were venting to me, and normally, they're like "ew, I'm the one complaining now, stop making it about you." But Hordak's reaction is different, all he does is try to tell her she's not a failure before she shushes him, then he just listens. He understands what Entrapta means by saying all those things about herself isn't "hey, look, my life is also horrible, so I get to complain, too" but rather "I feel you, we're the same". For a person who thinks and acts as differently from average people as Entrapta does, connecting with someone through similar experiences and feelings is a huge thing, and this is so relatable to me that I cried like a baby while watching that scene. Also, kudos to Christine Woods for making Entrapta's monologue sound so factual and casual. It really gives the impression of someone who is fully aware of her own strengths and weaknesses and accepts herself as a whole with all her flaws. The way she lists all the things that make her feel like a failure right after saying "imperfection is beautiful" is just... wow. But seriously, this whole "imperfection is beautiful" thing in general is such a cliché that it's not even supposed to work on me, but hell it does, because it's so well-presented that it's actually one of the most powerful moments of the whole series. Entrapta giving me self-acceptance lessons is all I've ever needed in my life (Hordak probably agrees, lol).

Speaking of self-acceptance, I also love how Beast Island shows that it's a long and difficult process with its ups and downs instead of just a door you walk through once in your life and then stay on the other side forever. Even if I accept and love myself the way I am, it's still totally normal to have low points with thoughts like "I'm not suited for friendship" or "everyone leaves me behind". And it's very nice and uplifting to have someone's love and support when I'm in a bad mood with stuff like this on my mind, but personally, I often find it easier to deal with if I have something related to any of my special interests around that I can focus my thoughts on. My "we flew here on an ancient First Ones ship, do you wanna see it?" would be something like "do you wanna create some characters and then write the shit out of them?" and before this show I've never actually realised how neurodiverse it is to use a hobby or interest for self-care like this. The "definitely the ship" part called me out so hard, and I just adore how the writers were able put so much meaning into a single joke line.

Back to interactions, there's also something painfully relatable in the way the other princesses treat Entrapta. Even in the beginning in No Princess Left Behind, but mostly in season 4 and 5. In most cases, Entrapta is only considered to be worthy enough to not be left behind in situations when her skills are useful. Other characters "liking" her isn't really about herself as a person but her tech knowledge. Just like when you go to school and the only reason your classmates want to make friends with you is because you always do your homework and let others copy it, or you're good at explaining stuff and are willing to help people getting prepared for tests/exams. When I was in grammar school, my classmates ignored me or mocked me for liking animation and comics, but every now and then they did the bare minimum of treating me like a human being and expected me to do their arts homework in return, because I was the only one in my class who was good at arts. When I studied linguistics at the uni, I was really into phonology and historical linguistics, and those were the compulsory subjects most of the other students were struggling with, so many people wanted to hang out with me just to make sure they could get my notes before the exams. The same people kept calling me nerd and making fun of me behind my back. I also had a few genuine friends, which I'm grateful for, but I still know what it feels like to be needed only for a specific skill while not being noticed and respected as a person, and Launch portraits this experience in a very clever way. It's so amazing to see how the princesses realise who Entrapta really is and start to treat her as someone who just thinks differently instead of someone who's a deliberate bad person. They finally get to see that she's not just an unwary tech nerd, but also a determined, caring and loyal friend who gives others so much love in her own geeky way and deserves love, too. But I shouldn't even be surprised, I mean, we're talking about a show that teaches us "you worth more than what you can give to other people," and it's great how this message applies to other characters as well, not only to Adora. And the best part is that this whole conflict is not presented as something black and white, it's not like Entrapta is the poor misunderstood autistic person and the princesses are the evil allistic bad guys who mistreat her. It's simply a miscommunication between neurotypical and neurodivergent individuals, and while the other princesses get to understand that they hurt Entrapta by their actions and that they should be more respectful of her, Entrapta also realises that she's made mistakes and hurt people, becomes aware of her own bad habits and makes efforts to get rid of them in order to save Glimmer. Plus I also love the faint implication that most of the princesses never really, genuinely, 100% make friends with Entrapta even after this scene, because sometimes people just don't resonate with each other enough to become close friends, but they learn to accept her differences and treat her with respect, nonetheless. This episode is so full of realistic interactions and character development it blows my mind every time I rewatch it.

I could just go on and on about all those tiny relatable details such as "I've waited years for someone to ask me about my theories!" I think this was the line that first made me fall in love with Entrapta's character. I mean, if someone from the crew wrote this line, that means they might know the feeling, too, so I'm not the only dork who feels this way every time someone asks me a question about my hyperfixations. And it's just so reassuring. Entrapta has many lines of the kind, they're not even important plotwise, but still super relatable and validating.

Now that we're here, and I know that I probably should have said this at the beginning of the post, but I'm too lazy to rewrite the first paragraph accordingly, I'd like to note that these are all my own interpretations and reflections on Entrapta's character based on my own experiences. This whole thing is totally personal, and I don't want anyone to think that this is how Entrapta is supposed to be seen by the whole fandom. So yeah, that's pretty much it for now.

[imjeralee]

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 22 - Legend of the Void

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

NOTE: I can’t really believe I'm at Chapter 22... I know it doesn’t seem too long but I feel like it is lol. Here’s when things get a bit science-fiction-y and also more to do with cosmology. 

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell​ here is the latest update

Legend of the Void

…

…

[1. Whatever begins to exist has a cause.

2. The universe began to exist.

3. Therefore, the universe has a cause (which was itself not caused).

- The Kalam cosmological argument.]

…

…

“I’m home.”

“Welcome back!”

Upon your return to Wedgehurst, Sonia and Magnolia, Runerigus and Cutiefly are in the conservatory enjoying tea. You greet everyone, share an embrace and Cutiefly dives for your hair, burrowing himself under your locks.

“Would you like some tea, dear?” Magnolia asks, lifting up an empty cup.

“Yes please.”

She smiles and begins to wander into the kitchen.

“Ah, wait – professor, I can do it myself-“

“It’s okay, come sit,” Sonia says, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the empty seat beside her. “Where’d you go last night?”

“Oh, I met up with Leon,” you reply nonchalantly. “We’re together.”

Her jaw drops. “You’re what??”

“Sorry, I should’ve told you earlier. I didn’t really know what to say, nothing was official.”

Sonia blinks wide-eyed for a moment before she slaps a perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. Emitting a muffled squeal of glee, she proceeds to throw her arms around you, enveloping you into a tight hug.

“I knew there was something between you two but I didn't think -- oh, never mind, I’m so happy for you!” she exclaims, and you smile awkwardly, gently placing your hand over her arm.

“Thanks, I, um…I have a favour to ask of you though.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to-“

Unfortunately you’re interrupted when Magnolia returns with your cup of tea. Polteageist floats beside her, having helped with the brewing and when he sees you, you both share a hug.

“Here you are, my dear,” Magnolia says as you accept the cup. It’s piping hot and smells wondrous.

“Thank you, professor.”

“Inspector Graves came by earlier; he told me to give you this,” Magnolia picks up an A4 envelope from the table and hands it to you. “He says they’re accepting new recruits and he wants you to try it out.”

You open it carefully and pull out the contents; it’s a pile of application forms for the police academy recruitment scheme. “Oh…” you mutter, “thanks, I’ll have a look at it later.”

“Can I tell her?” Sonia says giddily.

“What?? No, it’s too early!” you yelp.

"But-"

“Girls, what’s going on?” Magnolia demands, swapping glances between you and Sonia.

“N-nothing, professor.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Sonia says and before you can reply, she tugs on your arm and pulls you up and off the couch, guiding you to the staircase.

Magnolia watches as you both scurry away and out of sight before she slides into a plush seat beside the stone pokemon who has been enjoying his cup of tea silently, holding the floral teacup daintily in his shadowy hands.

“Would you like some more Darjeeling, Runerigus?” she asks, lifting up the teapot.

He nods and she empties some into his little cup before she fills her own; they exchange smiles as they take a sip at the same time.

...

Upstairs, Sonia closes the door behind her and joins you on the bed, sitting cross-legged and clutching your arm.

“So! Tell me everything. I want all the details. All of them.”

You recall last night’s events though you do omit some information, namely the dream. You feel bad for not telling her there was something between you and Leon, especially the time when you had almost kissed at the hospital and when he brought you flowers, but she doesn't appear nonplussed and nods to herself, hand under her chin.

“That’s typical of him,” she says with a giggle before she sighs and flexes her hands together, smiling to herself, "I've known Leon since we were kids so I'm really happy for him. It's so strange; you've been here for a few years and you kept missing him and he kept missing you...and even when gran and I wanted you to meet him, you were always busy or away investigating so you never got the chance and neither did he...but then this happens and now you're together!!! You were always closeby but you never even got the chance to see each other...oh, I don't know, but I was always hoping for you to meet; I knew you two would hit it off."

"Yeah, I guess we wasted the years."

"Nooo, that's not what I meant at all; it's what people say 'when it's supposed to happen, it happens'," she replies, and you laugh. “So…you’ve kissed, right? You must have. How was it? What was it like to kiss the Champion of Galar?”

Your cheeks grow pink. You've never really spoken to Sonia about boys before, but this is rather refreshing.

“...Well, it was really nice,” you mumble, throwing your glance down to fiddle with the hem of your sleeve. You’re not sure whether to tell Sonia that he was really shy and nervous.

“Oh, come on! Tell me bit a lot more than that!” she whines, pouting.

“I’m serious. It was fine, it was really nice. A bit wet?”

Sonia blows some hair from her face and looks at her nails. “Of course it was wet, it was a kiss. Fine, you don’t wanna tell me.”

"We’re going to practice more-“

Her eyes light up at once. “Oh!”

“And we’re going to meet up again later.”

“Oh.”

“Actually, now there’s two things I need your help with. Leon’s invited me to a party and I need an outfit-“

“I’ll help you!”

You chuckle at her enthusiasm. “And the other things is...well, it’s a little complicated to explain in its entirety but I have a new client; her sister is dead and is about to become an evil spirit – the thing is, she was Miss Motostoke but unfortunately she died and now she wants to participate in the pageant in order to move on so I was thinking we’d set up a fake pageant and I’ll let her possess my body so I would like you to be my hair and makeup artist and the presenter if possible. Don't worry, I'll compile a script for you to follow.”

Sonia gawps at you, wide-eyed.

“So, what do you say?”

“…...Sure?”

“Thanks so much, Sonia!!”

"What's going on?" she asks, and you explain to her the case you're currently working on. She listens intently to your plight and when you're all caught up to speed, she nods once more, armed with far more thorough understanding.

“No problem, I can help you... but are you okay doing this? Is this going to be dangerous? Can’t she move on in a different way?”

“It’ll be fine; I know what I’m doing, don’t worry.”

“Where are you going to hold this fake pageant anyway?”

“I was thinking the lab; I could ask Jace to help with the lighting and we could just fix up a curtain or something around upstairs to use as a changing room and cover the rest of the lab with the whiteboards put together. Picture this, we’ll hang some red drapes over them so it looks like the Miss Galar Beauty Pageant stage. I’m not too bothered about the floor. The floor’s fine.”

“…Okay,” she says, tilting her head to the side.

“And I could ask if Leon could be the ‘judge’ again. Maybe ask Volkner…if he’s up for it…We’ll set up some tables in front of the stage for them to sit.”

“You seem to have a plan already," she comments with a sniff.

“I do,” you reply, “I just hope it all works out.”

…

With Sonia’s help secured, your little plan is indeed coming together rather nicely. Your next task is to ask Jace for assistance for lighting and if he can help fix up some  curtains and as usual, he’s glad to help in any way, replying to your text message with multiple smiley face emojis.

You also ask him if Volkner would like to be a guest judge and he says he will check with the gym leader.

There’s plenty to do so you head to the lab where you don your white lab coat, put on your reading glasses and begin your investigation.

You’re not sure why you’ve decided to wear the coat but somehow you feel better wearing it today. It's been a while since you put it on.

At your desk, you put Graves’ application forms to the side for the time being and instead, spread out the contents of the folder Frankie had given you and lay out all the documents, namely the newspaper article about Flora’s death and murderer.

You had spent the taxi ride home reading the contents of the folder and now it’s time to display your findings on your trusty whiteboard which you wipe down, grabbing several pens and some magnets in progress.

Taking a step back, you look at the empty board with marker in hand before scribbling down ‘Miss Galar Beauty Pageant Case’ at the very top before underlining it. The pen squeals loudly with each stroke.

“So we have two sisters, Flora and Francesca Warren aka Frankie,” you write their names along with their ages underneath and attach their photos which you printed off earlier.

Frankie’s photo is a school portrait and Flora is a photo you found online from a previous beauty pageant.

Your audience consists of Vulpix, Mimikyu and Rotom who watch you silently as you work whilst Gengar returns with three cups of steaming hot Boltund Dash Coffee on a tray.

“Thanks Gengar,” you utter, taking the cup off him and he grins in response; he raises his own mug and Mimikyu takes her mug off the tray with a shadowy tendril.

The three of you take a sip at the same time.

“That’s a damn good cup of coffee,” you add.

Gengar nods whilst Mimikyu proceeds to devour the entire cup, swallowing it whole into her body.

“No, no, give that back; that mug belongs to Sonia.”

Mimikyu squeaks angrily but you shake your head firmly. With a growl, she navigates a tendril into her mouth and pulls the mug out and settles it atop the desk. You rub your chin, realising Mimikyu must possess hammerspace.

“Right. Let’s get started then. Flora was to compete in this year’s Miss Galar as Miss Motostoke but unfortunately she passed away a few weeks ago. Frankie immediately came home after news of her elder sister’s death. She was attending boarding school in Kanto. Flora is on the verge of becoming an evil spirit unless we do something about it. She haunts her family and Flora believes she will be able to move on if she gets to participate in a beauty pageant which we can reenact in order to satiate her restless spirit. This can be achieved if I let her possess me.”

Gengar lifts his hand up.

“Yes?”

He says, are you sure about this? Are you okay with a ghost possessing you? What about the incident with Edward Rose?

“I understand your concern but I can risk her possessing me. I managed to expel Edward Rose, I’m sure I can expel her too if anything goes wrong.”

Gengar nods a little unsurely and takes another sip of his coffee.

“Now Flora’s murderer is…” you quickly glance at the article you left on your desk, “Her boyfriend, Hank Walthamstow. Also known as ‘Hank the Tank’ to locals.”

As expected, the news article doesn’t provide enough information, namely the nature of her death. The paper articulates that it was a ‘passion of crime’ and that her boyfriend was suspected of the murder and was in custody.

You ask Rotom to commence a quick search online using viable resources but he comes up with nothing; you’re baffled that there is limited information on her murder but it could be due to Rose censoring negative press on the pageant, which was what he did for his art gallery.

The lack of information frustrates you either way and it means you may need to call Graves, which you won’t do because he has already made it quite clear he does not want you to work on cases and you had also agreed to take a break.

“I suppose I have no choice but to speak to Hank Walthamstow in person then," you mutter, the pokemon watching as you pace up and down. "Let’s find out where he’s being held.”

“Bzzrt, good idea,” says Rotom as he runs a quick search. “Bzzzrt, found him! He’zzzz being held at Wyndon Jail!! Unfortunately, it zzzzeemzzz we have mizzzed vizzziting hourzzz.”

“It’s fine, can you arrange a visit for me first thing tomorrow?”

“You got it!"

“Thanks, Rotom.”

With that out of the way, you pin up Hank’s mugshot beside Flora’s picture. He is an attractive but bulky-looking young man with fearful eyes.

After a few hours of further study, your board has taken more distinct shape and form as you begin to link some of the information together, including a full breakdown of what every contestant had to participate in the beauty pageant, most noticeably a Q&A session, swimsuit and dress catwalk and a talent showcase between three to five minutes long.

Furthermore, the actual Miss Galar beauty pageant took two and a half hours. With Flora as a single contestant, you calculate that you should be able to squeeze everything into roughly half an hour.

Tired and wanting a change of scenery, you head upstairs to sit on the floor with your papers in hand against the white railing, allowing your legs to dangle.

During this time, your pokemon have decided to do other things – Mimikyu and Vulpix are getting along together very well and had spent the remaining hours playing together.

Rotom is sleeping whilst Gengar has remained by your side to help you out with the whiteboard and the documents.

Leon had messaged you earlier too, informing you that he will pop by the lab when he’s finished, which inexplicably makes you plough through your work at an increased pace so you are ready when he is due to arrive. It's growing dark outside and the lab is swamped in a tawny orange glow from the sunset outside.

You yawn and your stomach grumbles loudly. You’ve been so wrapped up you did not even eat.

A gentle knock on the door grabs your attention and you peer through the gaps of the railing as the door is pushed open; Leon enters along with Charizard at his heels, glancing around until he looks up and spots you upstairs.

“Leon! Charizard!” you exclaim happily.

“Hey – oh,” he looks stunned by your appearance, “I’ve never seen you wearing your coat before.”

“Oh, this old thing? Yeah, that’s because whenever I wore it outside, people kept staring. It attracts too much attention.”

Leon looks at you from head to toe before his cheeks turn a bit pink. “…It suits you,” he utters and you grin in response, standing up and dusting yourself down. “Anyway, are you ready to go? My mum says she has a surprise for us.”

“Sure, I’m almost ready. Just let me get the rest of my papers….”

Leon and Charizard saunter further into the lab and he heads over to the whiteboard and your desk, peering at a small stack of books in one corner before ultimately realising that you’re the author.

Intrigued, he flips through them one by one and as you approach, he murmurs, “I had no idea that you had written and published several books.”

You hop down the stairs and in front of him, shrugging and with your hands in your pocket, “I don’t like to throw it out there.”

Leon smiles at you appreciatively; he is seeing you in a new light and you ask if he’d like to keep one but he tells you he wants to go to the stores and buy it to further support you.

You didn't quite greet him properly and he's thinking the same as he shyly reaches for your hand and tugs you closer to him, sliding his strong and sturdy arms around your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your cheek against the fluffy, soft material of his cape. You close your eyes and sigh quietly, relishing the feel of being in his arms as he buries his nose against the side of your head and into your hair.

"How was work?" you ask, your muffled against the thick fabric.

"Fine," he replies, though he sounds tired.

He proceeds to tell you everything he did whilst you hold onto him tightly, snuggling against his chest and enjoying his warmth and he chuckles before he smooths his hand over your hair and pecks the crown of your head.

Unfortunately, you must pull away and he flings his glance to your whiteboard; it is full of your diagrams, bullet points, blurbs and random scribbles. Some of them are connected together by a red string and pins.

Stunned by the intricacy of it all, Leon asks, “What is all this?”

“It's for the new case; it’s rather complicated."

“How so?”

“Here, let me explain. Have a seat,” you guide him to sit down on an empty chair in front of the board.

As he sits, he crosses his arms over his broad chest and his muscles clench under his tight-fitted champion shirt. You gulp down unconsciously as you receive an eyeful, heading to the board to begin the explanation of your findings.

“The hairclip we discovered last night belongs to a dead beauty pageant contestant called Flora Warren. She was Miss Motostoke. According to the press and police reports, she was murdered by her boyfriend, Hank Walthamstow.”

You witness the wince on Leon’s face yet you continue.

“He’s from Stow-on-side and he trained with Bea as a Blackbelt,” you say, gesturing to his mugshot on the board, “He’s currently being held in Wyndon, pleading not guilty. Flora’s body showed signs of struggle and assault. I don’t have a full autopsy report but it said her exact time of death can’t be determined due to the decomposition of her body when she was found but the good thing is I’ve seen her ghost and from what I can see, she appears as she died. Her neck is broken and she has several grievous injuries on her head.

“Her Rotom phone is missing and it’s believed Hank did away with Rotom as well…which is easier to do than people think. All you need to do is separate a Rotom from its device to incapacitate it. I met her family today - her little sister wants me to help her move on, but I believe the circumstances of her death warrants further investigation so I booked myself in for a visit tomorrow and I’ll speak to Hank myself.

“I’ve also spoken to Flora and she believes she will move on if she gets the chance to compete in the pageant. She doesn’t remember anything about her murder either so for the time being, I’ve proposed we reenact the pageant to appease her spirit. I will let Flora possess me so she can carry out her performances and move on. I’ve already asked Sonia and Jace for help and they’ve agreed.”

It occurs to you that you have never spoken to anyone except Jace and Sonia when it comes to cases and you’re somewhat nervous about Leon’s response to all of this.

The conflict is evident on his face. “...She’s certain she’ll move on if she competes in the pageant?”

You nod.

“This sounds dangerous.”

“I’ll be okay, Leon. Trust me,” you reassure him. “She’s on the verge of becoming an evil spirit. If we don’t act now, it’ll be too late.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Are you certain about this?”

“I know this sounds crazy, but yes I am. Please trust me. I know what I'm doing.”

He nods. “Okay. I trust you and it sounds like you need my help too so I’ll help you in any way I can. Ah, I can be the judge,” he replies with a grin, “I should be free this Saturday evening.”

How amazing is it that Leon will extend his help no matter what the circumstances are?

“Leon! Thank you so much! I could bloody well kiss you right now,” you belt out without thinking twice before you step forwards, placing your hands on each side of his face before pressing your lips against his quickly.

Taken aback by the kiss, Leon blushes furiously but he’s smiling when you pull away.

“Great!” you continue to exclaim to yourself, twirling the cane in your hands happily. “Everything’s all coming together nicely.”

“How do we know if Flora has moved on? And when she’s possessing you, will you still be yourself?”

“If I remember correctly... when Edward Rose possessed me, I was still me. I was self-aware," you mutter, “And I should know if Flora has moved on or not. Hopefully, we’ll able to witness it. Do you have any further questions?”

Leon ponders before he throws a quick glance to one of your books. “I’ve never asked you about your research. I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you earlier..."

You smile widely, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. What would you like to know?”

“What kind of research have you conducted regarding the spirit world?”

“Excellent question. Allow me to elaborate.”

Swapping the cane for a marker pen, you switch the board to the other side where it is clean and blank.

“It’s known that we occupy a three dimensional space,” you say as you draw various lines messily on the board, “dimensions are simply the different facets of what we perceive to be reality. However, it is widely theoreticized that there are more dimensions, either within these or in between these or even outside of these.

"The possibilities are simply endless, but this also means that across these millions of universes, there is a singular universe which has remained constant and consistent across all of these since the creation of the universe.”

Leon continues to watch as you feverishly draw on the board, drawing various overlapping circles along with arrows going right and left and back again, crossing over each other.

“And this singular, consistent universe is known as the spirit world, or ghost world, land of the dead, the great beyond, take your pick,” you mutter, “it’s another dimension that solely exists outside of time and space and has remained unchanged and unaffected for eons. It’s where spirits and ghost pokemon reside and they can freely travel back and forth between their world and our world. Unlike our universe, separate universes cannot be branched off from this one. It will always remain as one, singular spirit world.

“However, our ability to comprehend it is simply beyond our mental capacity. Does this mean heaven and hell does not exist? Not really, the spirit world could be a form of limbo or purgatory. So you’re probably thinking ‘what does this all mean?’, ‘what does this world look like’ and ‘who created it’?? Well, these are certainly great questions and I myself haven’t seen what the spirit world looks like because Gengar once informed me one had to be dead in order to get there but I’ve seen a portal before.”

“Where?”

“In the basement of my old house. My dad researched on communication between the spirit world and our world. He discovered there's many forms. Ghost pokemon, for example, are a source of communication. They're pretty much bridges between our world and theirs but there's still a lot we don't know about them. My dad also discovered the spirit world can receive and transmit communication in the form of binary or morse code but we never figured out the origins of the transmissions-“

Leon waits for you to finish, but you grow silent.

“...Anyway, the answer as to who or what created it, Ezra told me it was created when the universe was created...which was probably fourteen billion years ago, maybe more, but that’s another can of Weedles for another day.”

"What about Arceus?"

"Ezra says it wasn't Arceus. It was before Arceus."

"The legends say there was a void before Arceus."

"Well, yes, but who or what created the void, thus creating Arceus? Who is the creator of Arceus?"

"...The void?"

"Okay, but if I go back to my previous point, why was there even a void in the first place? And where did the void come from? I could dive into quantum physics and talk about the Big Bang Theory but scientists are still asking the question, 'what was the absolute beginning', 'was there something before it'?"

“I think people are quite content not thinking about that, or knowing in general," Leon replies, placing a hand under his chin in thought, "they’re rather content with the legend of the void.”

"That's what they teach kids in schools, surely there must be more."

Leon looks confused and you finish with a heavy inhale and an equally ragged exhale; your head is beginning to throb, your vision growing dim. Exhausted, your body no longer seems to obey you and you start to sway on your spot until your legs give way.

Leon rushes forwards and catches you in his arms, sweeping you up.

“Hey, are you okay? Take it easy…” he murmurs your name soothingly whilst you deliriously moan and mumble for him under your breath, “You need to rest.”

You shake your head weakly as he applies his palm over your forehead. Luckily, you’re not coming down with something.

“Have you had anything to drink?”

“Yeah…coffee and tea.”

“And when’s the last time you ate?” he asks as he scoops an arm under the back of your knees whilst his other arm remains firm around your shoulder; he effortlessly lifts you up bridal style and carries you towards the direction of the couch.

“I…I think it was this morning…when we were camping…before we left to watch the sunrise…” you croak out sluggishly.

His eyes widen; that was more than twelve hours ago. He shakes his head. This simply won’t do. Once he’s arrived at the couch, he seats himself down and props you up in his arms, letting you rest comfortably against him.

Leon slips off his cloak before he lets go of you briefly to drape the cloak over your body and bundle you up. The cape is so nice and cosy. As the thick fluff of his cape tickles the base of your nose, you unconsciously rub your cheek against it. You sigh contentedly and let yourself sink against the rich, soft material as he carefully wraps you inside before he settles his arms around you once more and rests his chin atop your head.

He glances around the lab or so and the lab descends into silence for a second time; he sits with you for a few minutes or so until you stir and reopen your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Nmm…I’m fine…let’s go…your mum’s waiting…can’t afford to waste any more time,” you mutter, and he nods.

Releasing you, you carefully slide out of his hold and stand to stretch whilst Leon reattaches his cape back over his shoulders. You recall your pokemon and swapping your white coat for a warmer one, you join Leon at the door after ensuring the lab is properly closed up before locking up.

It’s dark outside and Leon offers you his hand.

Together, you make your way down the path, walking close, shoulders bumping. He’ll look at you and when you look at him, he’ll smile and squeeze your fingers.

“I told Sonia we’re together," you blurt out.

“Oh...how’d she take it?”

“She was really happy for us.”

Leon goes pink in response.

“I haven’t told Jace yet. I messaged Graves earlier. I don’t know how he will react.”

“…I haven’t told Raihan yet,” Leon confesses, “he's the gym leader of Hammerlocke."

"Oh."

"We're good friends and he’s always asking me to go on a double date with him and his girlfriend.”

“You can go now."

"Ah, yes, if you want."

Once you arrive at Leon’s house, the outdoor lights are switched off which you find strange; the front door opens and his mother and Hop greet you at the doorway, waving happily.

“Welcome home!!!” they cheer.

Leon’s mum is dressed in a chef’s outfit whilst Hop is wearing a bartender’s uniform, complete with bowtie. He tosses some confetti and blows into a kazoo whilst Wooloo bleats loudly by his heels.

“Mum…Hop, what’s going on?” Leon asks, bewildered.

“We’ve prepared a nice dinner for you!” Leon’s mother exclaims and she quickly hauls you both inside and slams the door shut. “You two must be starving.”

You and Leon exchange glances before he grins widely and you let out a chuckle under your breath.

“I’ll be your chef today and the Hop-meister will be your maître d’.” Leon’s mum adds with a grin.

“May I take your coat, ma’am?” Hop asks, with his arm out.

“Oh, Hop,” you squeak out, whilst Leon looks a little embarrassed. His mother merely winks at him however, so it’s best to play along with their little skit and you remove your coat. “Thank you.”

Hop gathers your coat and turns to Leon next, “And may I take your cape, sir?”

“Um…okay, thanks,” Leon removes his cape and hands it to his brother who proceeds to scurry to the coat rack with Wooloo bounding after him.

“Unfortunately, dinner won’t be ready for another ten minutes. I do apologise for the wait but I will send your maître d’ to get you when it is ready,” Leon’s mum says and she grabs Hop and they return to the kitchen, leaving you and Leon alone.

With a smile, Leon nudges his head to the stairs. “I have something to show you.”

Slipping your hand into his, you both scale the staircase and he follows the signs to his room; once inside, he flicks on the light and you move to sit on the bed. His room  hasn't changed a bit; it looks exactly the same as last time.

He heads to his closet, opening the doors to reveal a hanger that’s holding up a red coat with a black lapel, gold buttons and cuffs. There are also a pair of pale light trousers and black riding boots to complete the look.

“This is what I’m wearing to the party,” he says as you stand up and join his side.

“It's lovely. I should wear something that matches this then,” you utter and an image of a wine red dress with black heels springs in your mind. Maybe you could complete it by fastening a white corsage?

Leon blushes. “Um, yes, but it’s entirely up to you.”

“I still don’t know how to dance though.”

“Let’s practice now. Give me your hand.”

You feel anxious as you slip your hand into his; he holds it firmly then slips his other hand over your waist. You're standing very close together and you throw your glance around, wondering if there’s enough room in general and when you look at him, you notice he hasn’t looked away from you, his gaze pinned on your form.

“I’ll lead, starting with my left foot, so you should step back with your right,” he instructs, and you nod.

He steps forwards and you move backwards.

“That’s one step. Now I’ll step forwards with my right foot and you should step back with your left.”

You nod once more and you both complete the next step as he had outlined. Leon moves onto the third step and so forth. Soon, you have completed the simple steps and have shifted from the middle of the room to a corner near the desk, although you did step on his foot once or twice during the process.

“Sorry,” you say but he grins.

“It’s alright. You’re learning really quickly.”

“Thanks, I’ll practise more at home.”

“Just remember one-two-three.”

“Thanks for teaching me,” you reply, and Leon lets go of your hand to hold you by your waist.

“Um…should we practice now?” He asks shyly.

“Dancing?”

“No, not…uh, not dancing.”

His cheeks go pink again and you realise what he is talking about.

“Oh, right,” you reply, “yes, let’s practise."

"Should we sit down?" he suggests, "...the bed?"

You nod and together, you wordlessly climb over his bed, the mattress shifting under your combined weight as you sit opposite each other, cross-legged.

Your gazes meet and Leon's face soars to various shades of red as you clear your throat and you furl and unfurl your hands with trepidation, ready to begin. He watches you silently, his golden eyes glued to your form until he begins to lean forwards and you do the same until you are inches away from each other.

Leon drops his gaze to your lips before closing the gap, gently tilting your face up with his hand under your chin.

You blush from the action, closing your eyes as your lips finally meet. So much for practice, you think to yourself as Leon ravishes your mouth with his own; it’s a sloppier, needier kiss compared to last night and this morning, as though he's making up for the time you had spent apart. Leon presses his lips against you hungrily, deepening the kiss, and you’re not in the mood to correct him in any way.

Enjoying the feel of his mouth against yours, you kiss for what seems to be a long time and the room is quiet save for the sounds of your lips meeting and some light, muffled moans from the back of your throats. You move your arms to rest around the back of his neck, pecking him on the lips affectionately and he smiles against your mouths before encircling his arms around your waist and drawing you into his lap, capturing your mouth once again.

A polite knock on the door makes you both retreat in a span of a second, your hands untangling from each other.

“Hop!” Leon exclaims loudly whilst you pull down your shirt and adjust your hair.

Hop is grinning widely at you two and you cannot help but think how much he saw. “Pardon my intrusion, but your table is ready. If you’d kindly follow me, please.”

Leaving Leon’s room, Hop leads you downstairs, into the kitchen and towards the backdoor.

A nice aroma wafts in the kitchen, which is a chaotic mess; there’s a tower of dirty dishes sitting in the sink and all the hobs are occupied with all sorts of pots and pans. Leon’s mum is busy tidying up, but she shoots you a grin.

You step out of the house and into their back garden and you don’t see anything out of the ordinary until Hop flips a switch and the entire back garden flickers into life.

Their gazebo has been decorated with roses and fairy lights, along with a small two-seater table that has been carefully set up for you and Leon in the middle of the garden. The table is decorated with a candlestick and rose petals have been carefully scattered over the floor, lining the path.

Leon is stunned as you stand side-by-side; you let out a gasp of awe and Hop leads you to the table.

Hop pulls the seat out for you and as you sit down, thanking him, he presents you with a menu. Meanwhile, Wooloo throws a napkin over your lap and does the same for Leon.

You throw a quick glance to the Champion, who is obviously overwhelmed by the entirety of it at all.

Inspecting the menu, it’s been written by Hop in his neatest handwriting and you see there are two options for starters and desserts and three choices of main course. Leon’s mum and Hop have really outdone themselves. He leaves you alone so you can go through the menu together.

“Leon, your family are so lovely,” you mutter, watching as his cheeks go pink, “this is amazing.”

“They know how difficult it is for me to be seen in public with someone, especially if we were to have dinner but I apologise if this is too much for you, I can ask them to tone it down," Leon replies.

“No, there’s no need. This is wonderful."

Hop returns with a little notebook and pen a few minutes later. “Are you ready to order?”

“Yes, we are, thank you,” you reply with a giggle, “I’ll have the salad for the starter and the fish for the main course.”

“Fine choice. Our fish is the most delicious in all of Galar and are simply sublime, madam,” Hop says with a grin. “And what would you like for dessert?”

“I’ll go for the tiramisu.”

“Fantastic. And for you, good sir?”

Leon gives his little brother a wide smile in response and orders the soup, steak and sorbet.

“Excellent choice, sir. It’s our chef’s specialty. And what would you like for drinks?”

“I’ll have a beer.”

“I’ll have water,” Leon says. Looks like he’s wanting to play safe.

“Very good. Thank you very much.” Hop collects your menus and returns to the kitchen with Wooloo.

As you wait for the food, you and Leon chat as Hop makes several trips to and from the kitchen; he sets a glass on the table filled with iced water along with your can of beer and promptly leaves, then re-emerges a few minutes later, balancing a plate and bowl in hands. It’s the soup and salad and Leon’s mum watches you through the window as Hops serves the starters.

“Bon appetit,” he says, kissing his fingers with a smack and you laugh as he bows and saunters away.

He joins his mother’s side in the kitchen, they exchange a high five, then they peer at the two of you outside, grinning hopefully.

You eat the salad quickly, growing nervous as you and Leon eat in this romantic candlelit setting. You’re aware of how close you are, that he’s watching you and suddenly you’re conscious of the way how you eat and also how handsome he is under the dim flickering light. When you look up, he's still looking at you and to calm your nerves, you take a few sips of your beer.

He inches his chair closer to yours and when the main course arrives, Leon’s mum suddenly steps outside, stops shortly in front of your table and does a little bow. She’s holding a bagpipe which she settles neatly into its proper position in her arms and she briefly explains that she will be tonight’s entertainment.

Clearing her throat, Leon’s mum takes a deep breath and begins to play, filling the garden with a loud but jaunty tune. You watch her cheeks puffing and her face seems to go a little red and when she’s finished, she wheezes slightly and wipes her forehead.

“Phew! I still have it in me…” she utters whilst you and Leon burst into applause. “Thank you, thank you, my dears…do enjoy the rest of your evening.”

She departs hastily after a bow so you can eat.

The evening progresses and Leon moves his chair even closer; you are sitting so close together he can place his hand over yours. And when the dessert arrives, you are so full you’re not sure if you can eat it but Leon’s mum had put so much effort in putting this dinner together just for you and Leon so you tuck in as much as possible despite your protesting stomach.

Hop eventually returns to clean up the plates once you’re finished, Leon wipes his mouth neatly with a napkin before rising from his seat and you look up at him expectantly as he offers you his hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

“I would love to,” you reply, slipping your hand into his with a smile.

He pulls you up onto your feet and leads you further into the gazebo, sliding his arm around your waist securely whilst you loop your arm over his shoulder as he had taught you; with your hand in his, he begins to lead you around the small space of the gazebo.

Recalling his earlier instructions, you repeat the mantra of ‘one-two-three’ in an attempt to match his steps and to your surprise, you’re able to keep up with him and also, you have barely made any errors.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” you mutter.

“You’re doing great," he replies, and you smile as you complete another circle around the gazebo together.

You wish this evening will never end.

…

Meanwhile.

In Wyndon, Graves relaxes at home in his robe and slippers. He is a busy man but it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t take some time off for himself every now and then for self-care.

And what a marvellous day today had been.

He had no problems, no issues at work. Everything had gone swimmingly and he had left the office in a good mood.

He didn’t think anything would ruin this day.

With his feet up on the table, he lounges in his leather recliner with a hot towel slapped over his face, eyes closed as soothing music plays in the background of his lounge.

“Ah, this is the life,” he mutters as he sinks into his plush armchair.

Suddenly, his phone hovers into the room, bobbing up and down by his shoulder. “Sir, you have a message from your god-daughter.”

“What is it? Read it out for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Rotom replies, before he says loudly, “I’m dating Leon. Thought you ought to know.”

Graves sits up properly, the towel peeling off his face and dropping over his lap.

“WHAT?”

…

[shibalen]

My hobbies include writing, reading, watching anime and mystery/thriller/action movies. I’m the ‘loud and crazy’ one of my friend group, but I’m also the sly, crafty manipulative one. Likes in a partner: someone who motivates me and can challenge me to do my very best. Dislikes: someone who tries to "change" me. Thank you so much! I hope you're having a lovely day!

♡ matchup for @karaseijoh

hello! this is the actual matchup this time, no worries! i appreciate your patience and sweet words, thank you so much ´･ᴗ･`

|| Haikyuu: i match you with . . .

Daichi Sawamura

• Bet he wasn't who you were expecting, but hear me out!

• What I think would really make you a good pair is that while you're both ambitious you still balance each other out

• Your fierceness will inspire Daichi to be even more assertive while his assuring presence will help you not get discouraged as easily

• Being a captain of a sports team himself, Daichi knows how to motivate you to reach for the skies!

• All he wants is to help you just as much as you've helped him, or even more ♡

• Looks up to you like no one else ngl. You're always on his mind when he's in a pinch, thinking would you let this problem pull you down

• I mean, you're on his mind anyway

• Because he loves you so much but he's also a big ol' worrywart

• He'll legit stop in the middle of practice or whatever he's doing and hope you're not getting into trouble with your schemes

• You definitely knew each other for the longest time before anything romantic sparked between you

• Daichi, being the responsible boy he is, was constantly at your heed, telling you not to manipulate others for your own interests, what was "wrong" and "right" etc.

• But time fixes everything and, before he knew what was happening, he had grown whipped for you

• Your outspoken side took him on adventures he never knew he wanted. Your crafty side made him understand just how ready you were to make your ideas a reality. This all made him fall in love with you ♡

• #rivals to lovers

• We know he doesn't sugarcoat stuff so rest assured every compliment, every praise is genuine. He is proud of you and all of your achievements!

• Will never say anything to hurt you, everything he says is carefully considered

• If you hold in your emotions, he offers to talk about it later in case you want to vent out your honest feelings.

• Loves it when you come see him at practice but also You + Tanaka + Nishinoya + Hinata = deadaichi

• If he doesn't have practice himself catch him sitting at the stands watching yours with the proudest grin in history

• There's more! During competitions the whole volleyball team comes to cheer you on! Daichi lowkey wanted to be the only one you saw when looking over but that's fine :')

• It makes him sad you're both so busy with school so when you are spending quality time together Daichi plans things out to the smallest detail. Though too embarrassed to admit it this boy is such an old-fashioned romantic

• Never forgets to bring you a little something to your dates. Even if you're staying in and watching a thriller movie (then it's pizza) And if you don't receive at least one love note a month it got mixed up in the mail

• Getting hyped over mystery series together is your thing. Change my mind

• You teach him chess so he could beat Suga and Kurō lol

• hitting👏the👏gym👏together. You can try and tell me your thighs aren't his next favorite thing about you (aside from your personality) and he doesn't steal glances at them when you're working out, but we all know these are facts.

• I'm loving the idea of your late night texts!

• "If I were to infiltrate a bank, scam it, and give the money to the poor like Robin Hood, would you back me up?"

• "Go to sleep, y/n."

• "But would you?🤔"

• "Honestly. I'd do it myself just so you'd stop getting in trouble. Where do you get all these idea's from?

• "Aww! It's a secret😉"

• " . . . what did Noya tell you?"

• Daichi is a caring, supportive boyfie. You can trust him to have your back. He'll treasure you because you are his most precious person ♡

runner up: Kurō Tetsurō

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

|| OHSHC: i match you with . . .

Tamaki Suoh

♛ Your personal cheerleader and #1 fan

♛ Seriously, with Tamaki around to worship the ground you walk on it's almost impossible to give up. And if it's not because of his cheering it's because you want him to be quiet pfft

♛ Expects the best from you because he has no doubt in your abilities and how much you are capable of

♛ But he won't care if you're not naturally talented at something because he loves you just the way you are besides, he can be perfect for both of you

♛ The first time you met you went to the host club because the chess club was under the threat of being cancelled due to it lacking enough members

♛ Your plan was simple: The host club was extremely popular, and Tamaki was the favourite host so you were going to get close to him so he'd advertise the chess club

♛ At first you were just planning to use him but soon learnt there was more to him than being a princely flirt and a bit of an airhead

♛ He was kind to you no matter what, even though you he knew you were just using the host club to your advantage

♛ Your determination was what attracted him to you and your exciting personality made him fall for you ♡

♛ Though you weren't far behind in crushes, and I swear when you admitted you feelings for Tamaki was tempted to kiss you right there and then

♛ Of course, he's a gentleman and squeezed you into a tight embrace instead. You could feel his heart racing in his chest

♛ Y'all be loud and crazy together. There won't be a day when you're not doing something wild. His favorite hobby is taking you on his 'adventures' in the 'commoner world', he swears its like the jungle

♛ But don't be surprised if he shows up at your house with a helicopter saying you're going to Lapland for a ski trip and watch the northern lights

♛ When you show your ruthless side for the first time boy will be mildly terrified because you remind him of Kyoya in the mornings (• ▽ •;)

♛ When you're being fierce he's gonna admire you from the sidelines and be like "heck yeah! get 'em babe!" But if you direct it at him, he'll turn into a whiny baby "bUt princessssss :("

♛ If you got a penny every time he asked you to have him on the cover of the school's newspaper you could afford a publishing company of your own

♛ Tamaki absolutely thrives off your attention and if you're apart for too long he gets extremely gloomy. Every time someone mentions your name while you're not around he'll be in his emo corner (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

♛ Insits on training with you. Although he's physically fit to keep his beautiful figure in shape he's not overly athletic. During longer jogs he'll start wheezing and you find it utterly hilarious

♛ He tries to put up the front of being all bold and suave but if you flirt back for more than five seconds he'll melt into a blushing mess

♛ One time you were talking about throwing a Halloween party and what costumes you all could wear

♛ You teasingly pondered whether you should go with a cute or a more mature look and Tamaki's soul proceeded to leave his body for ten minutes rip

♛ Hikaru and Kaoru had to shake him by the shoulders to keep him together, meanwhile you were giggling in the background

♛ Recommed him an anime and he's gonna spam you with constant updates as he's binging. You might have to mute your phone if you want to get anything done smh

♛ Though his texts and calls are often an emotional mess, he gives surprisingly good and detailed feedback at the end of it

♛ Just make sure to have finished the series first otherwise I can't guarantee a spoiler-free conversation (*ﾉωﾉ)

♛ He'd much rather watch them together with you though. Physical affection is one of his main ways to show you his love

♛ You're his queen. Have no doubts he'd do anything for your happiness ♡

runner up: Kyoya Ootori

here you are, i hope this was an enjoyable read for you! if you think the format could have been better though, feel free to let me know and i'll fix it.

thank you for requesting and i hope you're having a lovely day as well! ♡

[turtle-steverogers]

Can you make a Sprace fic where Race is a foster kid and has PTSD?

nng sorry this took so long

but n e wayyyyyy its 2:00 an d w e posting cuz my brai n hates me

-

I Can’t

warnings: panic attack, implied abuse

ship: sprace

editing: lol

word count: 1731

“Okay, can I have Tony and Spencer onstage for their fight call,” Medda Larkin called through her megaphone, flipping through the script in front of her, “I wanna see this fight in full, don’t hold back.  I need to know if anything needs to be fixed sooner rather than later.”

Spot straightened his back, leaning over in his seat next to Medda to look over his prompt script as Race and Specs walked out on stage.  He glanced up, sending an encouraging smile to Race, who flashed him a forced one in return.  Even from his place in the back of the theatre, Spot could tell that something was off.  Race’s composure was guarded and nervous, shoulders drawn up ever so slightly and fingers twisting in front of him as he and Specs took their respective places stage right and downstage.

“Ready, guys?” Medda called, waiting for Specs and Race to give her a quick thumbs up before leaning back in her chair, “Alright, Spot tell them where to take it from.”

Spot nodded, eyes scanning his script, “Uhh, take it from…‘lay offa me’, okay?”

Race nodded, rolling his shoulders a few times to get into character.  He braced one hand on the ground, hunching his shoulders as he kneeled in what looked like a defeated position.

“Lay offa me, wouldja?” He spit, panting as he turned his head slightly to glance at Specs across the stage, “Thought you’d be satisfied by now.  You won!  Is that what you wanna hear?”

Specs scoffed, crossing to him, “Ah, but here’s the fun thing,” he bent down, grasping Race by the sleeve of his shirt and hauling him to his feet, “I haven’t won,” he pressed their noses together, hovering over Race, “until you’re six feet underground, you hear me boy!?”

Race’s face contorted into one of pure anger and he mimed spitting at Specs.  Specs jerked his head backwards, reacting as if he’d actually been spit on and taking a moment to wipe at his face before shoving Race lightly towards the ground.  Race stumbled, falling heavily to give the impression that he’d been pushed much harder.  Spot raised his eyebrows, impressed by both of their acting.  It was coming along surprisingly well given the short amount of time they’d been off book.

“Get back up!” Specs fumed, “I will not tolerate this kind of-”

Spot frowned as Specs continued to monologue, eyes trained on Race as he cowered on the floor.  He’d long since missed his cue to stand back up and he had shifted to his hands and knees, head bowed low between his shoulders.  Spot could see his arms shaking and he sat up straighter, alarm shooting down his spine when Specs stopped speaking abruptly.

“Race?” Specs stepped forward, kneeling down next to his friend and momentarily freezing when he noticed the tears that seemed to be running down his face, “Shit,” he cursed, turning his attention to Spot and Medda, “Hey, something’s wrong!”

“Oh dear,” Medda mumbled under her breath, standing swiftly as Spot did the same.

They hurried towards the stage, Spot pulling ahead of Medda in order to reach his clearly hurting boyfriend faster.  By the time they got there, Race had rocked back onto his heels, hands braced behind his breath as he tried to reign in his unsteady breathing.  Specs reached out, placing a hand on his back, but quickly withdrew it when Race yelped a little, hitting him involuntarily.

“Fuck,” Spot hopped onto the stage, coming to a halt in front of Race’s trembling form, “Hey, Race, hey.  What’s happening?”

Race didn’t answer, having resorted to lacing his fingers in his hair, pulling hard.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Spot coaxed, “Can you hear me?”

Race didn’t answer and Spot flashed a worried glance at Medda, who moved to squat next to them as well.  

“Antonio, dear, can you open your eyes for me?” Medda spoke softly, motioning for the students who had begun to peek their heads out from behind the curtain to back away.  

Specs looked between Race and the rest of the cast a few times before huffing a decisive breath, “I’ll make sure they don’t crowd,” he said, already moving to rally the others.

Tears had begun to stream down Race’s face at a steadier pace and Spot grimaced, worrying his lip between his teeth as a few gut-wrenching sobs worked their way out of Race’s chest.

“Antonio, c’mon sweetie,” Medda said, “You’re okay, can you open your eyes?”

Spot pursed his lips, hesitantly opening his mouth, “Racer,” he tried, shifting a little closer to Race than Medda, “You’re safe, baby,” he kept his voice low and private, “Do you want to go somewhere else?  I’ll go with you and we can work this out.”

For a moment, it seemed like Race still hadn’t heard him and Spot clenched his jaw, feeling utterly helpless.  Then, Race nodded sucking in an unfulfilling breath as he did so.

Spot quickly glanced at Medda for permission, who waved him off, “Go, be careful.”

Spot nodded, mouthing a grateful ‘thank you’ before turning his attention back to Race.

“Can I touch you?” He pressed, “It’s just me.”

“No,” Race gasped, “Please, I-”

“That’s okay,” Spot said, hurriedly, “No touch, no problem.  Think you can stand, though?”

Race shook his head vigorously and Spot’s shoulders hunched.  He was at a loss.  

“It’s alright, honey,” Medda said, gently, “You two stay here, I’ll move everyone to the blackbox.”

Relieved, Spot nodded, continuing to murmur easy nothings while Medda shepherded all the students out of the theatre.  Once they were alone, Spot sat criss cross in front of Race.

“Tony, hey, you listening?” He said.

Race nodded and Spot smiled, “Awesome, okay, uh,” he let his eyes wander, trying to figure out how to help Race, “can you try to open your eyes for me?  Just try, love.”

Race let out a small sob, blinking rapidly as he opened his eyes.  His pupils were blown wide and he flinched, hands flying to his chest as he tried to breathe.

“Hey, hey, okay,” Spot crawled a little closer, itching to reach out and take hold of Race’s hands, “Good job on opening your eyes, but do you think you could take a breath now?  Like, in as deep as you can, feel it, like, fill your chest.”

Race shook his head, “Can you,” he coughed, struggling to get his words out, “Can you just, like, ask questions?”

Spot tilted his head a little, “Questions? Like..”

“Anything,” Race pleaded, “Easy stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh,” Spot ran a hand through his hair, “Hamburgers or hotdogs?”

Race drew in a breath, exhaling his answer, “Depends.”

“On what?” Spot pushed.

“My mood,” Race said, still sounding choked.

“That’s fair,” Spot said, “Uh, mountains or beaches?”

“Beaches.”

“Same,” Spot agreed, “Favorite dog breed?”

“Pitbulls,” Race answered, sounding a little bit calmer, “Misunderstood good boys.”

Spot chuckled, “Yeah, they’re pretty cute.  Favorite book series?”

“Harry Potter, hands down,” Race said, dropping into a sitting position.  His breathing still sounded labored, but his tears had mostly stopped, which was a win in Spot’s book.

“Good ass read, yeah,” Spot scooted next to him, sitting close enough so Race could lean into him if he wanted to, “Favorite book outta the seven?”

“Uhh,” Race took in a deep breath, letting it out shakily, “The third.  Sirius is a badass in that one.”

“He’s a badass always,” Spot countered, immediately hugging an arm around Race as he curled into his side, “How’re you feeling?”

Race hummed, “Shitty, but better.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Race sighed, reaching out to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, “Uhh, so like, remember how I told you I was in foster care from, like, fifth to ninth grade before I could move in with my aunt?”

Spot nodded, listening intently.

“Well, they stuck me in a few homes, but there was this one that I ended up staying at for the last three years I was in the system and it sucked,” he swallowed, curling closer to Spot who gave his arm a comforting squeeze, “Kids called it ‘The Refuge’ and the guy running it, Snyder the Spider, wouldn’t treat us too well.  Kinda beat up on everyone and yelled a ton, but if you stayed under the radar, he let you off easier,” he let out a humorless laugh, “‘Cept I never really liked to stay under the radar so he liked to, uh, give me the brunt of shit.”

Spot felt the blood drain from his face, the puzzle pieces falling together, “So when Specs was acting like-”

“-Like an abusive adult?  Yeah, not a cake walk for my mental state.”

Spot clicked his tongue, “Not that it’s your fault that you reacted like this, but why didn’t you tell anyone how you felt about this scene?  We coulda worked something out.”

Race shrugged, “I dunno,” guilt laced his tone, “Thought I could handle it, like, I tried to mentally prepare for it and I figured it’s been two and a half years and like, it’s just Specs, but… yeah, I overestimated myself.”

“Like I said,” Spot said, firmly, “Not your fault, but you need to tell Medda about this.  She’ll understand.  She raised Jack, so she’s familiar with this shit, but we can’t have that happening again.  S��not good for you.”

“Well, no shit,” Race snapped, immediately backtracking, “Sorry, sorry.  I know it’s not good for me and yeah, I’ll talk to Medda.”

“I can come with you if you want?” Spot offered.

Race pulled himself out of Spot’s embrace, studying his hands for a moment before looking at him, “Yeah, could you?”

Spot smiled, reaching down to take his hand, “Of course.”

Race ran his thumb over Spot’s knuckled, still looking worn, “And, uh,” he quickly flicked his finger under his nose- a nervous tick, “thank you by the way.”

“Yeah, you know it’s not a problem,” Spot said, sincerely.  He glanced at his watch, seeing that a good chunk of their rehearsal time had vanished, “We should go talk to Medda now.  She’ll prolly let you chill out for the rest of today, but we still gotta finish out rehearsal.”

Race scoffed, “The show must go on no matter how mentally or physically fucked you are.”

Spot laughed, “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth.”

-

those last two lines are theatre culture lmao

thanks for reading, chiefs

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[huntertales]

Part Two: Like Father, Like Son. (Remember the Titans S08E16)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader are stumped when they investigate a possible zombie case where an amnesiac man, simply known as Shane, dies and then revives himself once a day. After Shane is attacked by the goddess Artemis, the reader and the Winchesters realize he’s not a zombie but instead a God, more specifically, Prometheus. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader. Word Count: 7,048.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Please Note: This is highly unedited. All mistakes are my own and I’ll fix them probably by tomorrow night. i’m slowly starting to realize this episode is making me write way more than normal. I just wanted this part up lol

You and the boys headed back to the motel to figure out exactly what the stranger named Shane was—and how he was able to bring himself back from the dead. There was a few unorthodox methods a hunter used to make sure the stranger they were about to help really wasn't the monster they were trying to track down, using a cheap trick to get into their good graces. The first one was the most painful; Dean ran a very sharp silver blade over Shane's forearm, drawing up blood from the cut he inflicted. The only kind of response you got was a slightly hissing sound at the prickling feeling, no burning of skin or cries of agony from the burning feeling. That ruled out anything with a weakness of silver.

You sprinkled a little bit of Borax over his hand to make sure he wasn't a leviathan when he was distracted by the wound, no sight of more skin burning meant he wasn't any of the creatures the boys faced against during your year of absence. He was almost in the clear, there was just one more test that mattered the most. Dean wiped the blade clean from the bandanna he pulled out from the back of his slacks and put it over Shane's still bleeding wound.

You handed over the flask filled with holy water and ordered him to drink it, ignoring his remark about your tests. Shane cautiously sniffed the contents inside to see what it was, as if he was worried that you were going to poison him. When he smelt nothing, he took a sip of the liquid, only to find out it tasted like water. Good old holy water. Harmless to humans, like acid for demons. He swallowed it down like it was nothing. No smoking, no choking. You grabbed the flask back from him and screwed the top back on, letting out the slightest bit of relief to see that he might be the slightest bit human...ish.

You still didn't understand how he dodged death. It felt like you and the boys were the only lucky ones who managed to snag a "get out of death" free card a few too many times. That's because you knew a few tricks and had friends in high places. Shane seemed like a regular old Joe, someone who didn't know what was going on himself. Which you knew didn’t help you out.

“All right, so, how long has this dying thing been going on?” Dean asked the man, wanting to get some information to wrap his head around what was going on with him.

“As long as I can remember, but my memory only goes back a few years.” Shane said.

"Wait, so now you have amnesia?" You asked. You brow arched up ever so slightly in surprise at the progression of the things you were learning about this man, what little there was of him it seemed like it. "How do you know your name?"

“My real name isn’t Shane. It was given to me because...I don’t know,” The man shrugged, not sure of a better kind of excuse to explain the missing gaps in his memory. “people had to call me something.”

“Okay. So, then,” Sam slowly asked, “what happened to you?”

“Got pulled off a mountain in Europe. They said that I got caught up in an avalanche. I don’t remember anything from before the rescue. When I realized my condition, I knew I couldn’t be around other people, so I built a little cabin, learned to hunt, kept to myself. Seemed easiest that way.” Shane said, telling you the story about the things that he knew. You crossed your arms over your chest and listened to how things seemed quiet enough for him, until he went on with more details about how death never stopped trying. “Then a couple pot growers grew nervous with me being so near their crop. Shot me— twice. I figured it was time to move on.”

“Right into the grille of that pickup.” Dean said, finishing the rest of the story that lead all of you here to this very moment.

Shane fell silent for a moment after clearing up the situation, and telling you much as he knew to all of you. He realized that dying was a rather messy situation. Even with his body healed from all the injuries, he felt the need to get himself more comfortable knowing that he was going to be sticking around in your custody. "You think maybe I could clean up?"

"Yeah, man. Knock yourself out." Dean said, pointing a finger to the open door leading to the bathroom. You stepped out of his way while flashing a small smile, knowing all of this was a lot for Shane to process. You handed back the flask to Sam who tucked it away into the inside pocket of his suit jacket for safekeeping the next time all of you might need it. "Well, that's definitely something."

"Yeah, but maybe he's not the monster." Sam suspected. "Maybe he's the victim."

"You thinking curse?" You curiously asked.

"Could be looking for a witch, yeah." Sam said. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest from the mention of the creature you took down before your hiatus from the trials and hunting. Because the last time you dealt with one ended so well with things. You really didn’t want to go face to face with another one. But if you had to, so be it. Right now you had more pressing matters to worry about, like the revived amnesiac man in your motel room bathroom. "You know what? He's parked here. He's safe. Maybe it's not a bad idea if we get another room and I bunk with him until we can figure this out."

"All right,” Dean agreed with his brother’s plan, thinking it was the best option you had. Only on one condition. “but you're the one going full-cavity for the hex bag."

You couldn't help yourself when you cracked the smallest of a smile from the burden thrown at Sam to figure out exactly why Shane was unsuspectable to death like a normal person. You stepped over to the younger man and gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder from the suggestion of who might be to blame backfired in his face. He didn't seem the least bit amused like you and his brother were. You headed off back to your own motel room when the discomfort of the heels matched with your dress pants became too much. First things first, you needed to change into some pants that could let you breathe freely. And then it was time to figure out the strange case of Shane and his immunity to dying.

+ + +

Later into the evening you were back in your own motel room lying on the bed with your laptop propped up on your outstretched legs and Dean by your side, occupying himself by watching some TV to pass the time. Sam took the table after Shane fell asleep, deciding to be polite and crash in your room to do some research before wanting to get some shuteye himself. You and Sam were doing your own separate research to find some sort of answer to figure out what was going on here. So far you were find a whole lot of jack squat, but you were determined to get your answer. It was out there somewhere, and if anyone could find it, you could.

While you were scrolling through your latest search that didn't seem like much compared to the rest of the websites you checked out, the information you were reading was enough to keep your attention and forget about the voices coming from the TV you barely could hear. It was when you got to an interesting part of the article you were reading that a noise broke your concentration, and jump slightly out of Dean's embrace he had around your shoulders at the unexpected banging noises that caught you off guard. You heard another noise just a few seconds later, making you realize it was coming from the motel room next to yours. The one Sam was supposed to be sharing with Shane, who was supposed to be fast asleep.

You furrowed your brow in confusion from the noises you were hearing, pushing your laptop off to the bed and swinging your legs around so you were sitting on the side. Dean turned off the TV and immediately jumped to his feet, grabbing the knife he had stashed underneath his pillow for emergencies like this. Sam shut his own laptop and slowly stood up when the noises went on and growing even louder. You lingered behind in your own motel room when the boys decided to check things out and figure out what was making all the noises.

You made sure not to be a sitting duck if things went south, you grabbed Dean’s pistol from the duffel bag and made sure it was loaded like always and ready for whoever might come your way. Maybe Shane accidentally stumbled his way through the motel room, it was pretty dark at this time of night. But you had a feeling that wasn’t the real reason. It never was that simple when you were on hunts like this. You always had to be cautious with danger lurking all around.

Dean opened up the door to the motel room to stumble upon a sight he wasn’t expecting; a woman dressed all in black fighting with Shane, who seemed to have some moves from what the man could see in the darkness. He decided to take his shot against the stranger, welding up the knife after he saw she had one of her own that she was trying to use against Shane. Dean was no amateur when it came to fighting, but he only lasted a few seconds, not even able to throw a few punches before he lost his footing after the woman tripped him, making him fall right on his back. Sam headed into the room to try and intervene, but it seemed what him and his brother were going up against wasn't human.

You remained by the window with the curtain drew back sightly what was going on in the next room over. So far all you were hearing was more noises and banging sounds, no clue as to how things were progressing. You remained vigilant with the gun by your side and finger on the trigger, ready to do what you needed in order to keep yourself and the boys safe. When you peered out closer to the window when you heard the noises grow louder, you noticed something go flying out the door, making you curious as to what it was. When you peered closer to the window, you looked down at the sidewalk to see something lying on the floor. It took you only a second to realize what it was, or should you say who.

“Sammy!” You called out the younger man’s name in a panicked voice when you saw it was him who was lying on the concrete after being thrown out by some kind of force. You headed over to him, crouching down to make sure he was all right. Besides the unexpected twist in events, he seemed all right, enough for the both of you to figure out who the hell Shane was fighting.

You followed behind Sam when he headed back to the motel room to see Shane was fighting the woman again, matching with her rather impressive fighting skills that were no match against someone like him. You watched as the both of them ducked it out, blocking each thrown punch and kick, Shane dodging the knife she had when she attempted to use it against him. Shane somehow managed to grab the knife and twist her arm in an angle that made her cry out from pain, sending her to stumble forward. And in some swift and smooth motion, Shane threw the woman against the wall, pointing the knife against her throat, having a question for her all of you had been thinking yourselves.

“Who are you?” Shane demanded to know.

The woman didn’t flinch from the feeling of the blade against her cheek, or break her eye contact with Shane while she stared at him. It was four against one. But she wasn’t sticking around long enough to see were things could go. She slowly wrapped her fingers around Shane’s wrist, telling him exactly who she was. “Now I’m your worst enemy.”

And just like that, all of you watched as she moved her grasp to the knife, letting herself and the weapon disappear into a puff of smoke. You stepped inside the room now that the coast was clear, your mind was suddenly running with too many questions that demanded to be answered from what you just witnessed. The only one you managed to get out was, “Who the hell was that?”

Shane seemed baffled much as you were from what just went down. He felt himself too out of breath to answer your question, he inhaled a few deep ones before admitting the only truth he knew for sure. “She—She said she knew me.”

“Yeah, how?” Sam questioned the man, shutting the motel room door to give you all privacy.

"I don't know, but I could have sworn that she was upset I didn't know her back." Shane said. He found himself finding the ability to breathe getting hard to do so, you furrowed your brow slightly when you saw him leaning against the wall before grabbing his left arm, like it hurt. You guessed it was from the fight that he was just in, but the way he was behaving was starting to make you concerned it was something more.

“This is a lot more than a curse, man. You’ve got, like, some tiger blood.” Dean said, impressed at the fighting skills the man seemed he didn’t know he had. “Where did you learn that kung fu?”

Shane couldn't answer the question when he felt himself falling to his knees at the sudden stabbing pain in his chest, the grip around his arm went directly to where his heart was. You had a feeling he wasn't having a panic attack from the way he was pressing a hand against his chest and the feeling he was enduring at the moment.

"Hey, buddy, you okay?" Sam asked the man in a concerned tone of voice from the way he was suddenly acting that was starting to make you wonder if something else was going on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just need a minute.” Shane mumbled, managing to take a deep breath in some kind of attempt to help ease the sudden chest pain that came out of nowhere. “I’ve never been in a fight in my whole life.”

You would beg to differ from the impressive moves you saw the guy do, things that you highly doubt a normal person would be capable of. Shane suddenly let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a gasp, and like someone was restricting his airflow. Your eyes grew wide at the sight you were seeing, and how you could make it stop before things could get worse for him. But it didn't seem like you had much time when Shane let out a few more strangled breaths before falling to the ground.

“Is he having a heart attack?” Dean asked, as if it wasn’t clear enough.

“Do we call 911?” Sam wondered, you rolled your eyes at his suggestion.

“And tell them what?” You asked him. “That the dead guy he stole from the morgue is alive and having a coronary?”

What was there really to do? You and the boys watched as Shane slowly withered on the floor from the excruciating pain he must have been feeling. You hoped this death was the most quick out of the ones that he suffered through before, watching as in the matter of minutes he slowly stopped moving. You checked his pulse after slightly nudging him with your foot, coming to the conclusion he was in fact dead...Again.

+ + +  

Coming back from the dead took some time, at least, that’s what it was like for you when you kicked the bucket after the countless time it happened to you. The boys moved Shane’s body from the floor to the bed wanting to make his resurrection at least more comfortable from the few times he endured before. There wasn't much for any of you to do while you waited around for something to happen with Shane's body. You just stared at his lifeless corpse, waiting for some kind of movement to see his body was healing himself. Or whatever was happening to the poor bastard.

Heart attacks strike at random times with no warning, mostly to older folks with clogged arteries. Why did it happen to someone who seemed healthy? Maybe being shot at, hit by a car and then a bear triggered it. Shane didn't have a clue what was going on with him, neither did you or the boys. Morning came around and still no sign of life from Shane after you checked his pulse once again to see if there was any changes. You hated when things got like this, even more confusing with questions you couldn't answer. All you could do was let out a sigh of frustration.

“I feel like I’m sitting Shiva.” Dean mumbled, growing antsy himself from the lack of progress in the past few hours with absolute no change.

“Well, that’s not—nevermind. We need to think.” Sam said, deciding not to waste his breath on correcting his brother on how to properly use the saying. Instead, using the time to brainstorm out loud. “Guys, what do we know of that has Jason Bourne fighting skills, dies a lot, and has a history with violent women?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and began to try and wrack your brain of the knowledge you knew about the supernatural, along with any possibilities of things you came across in the past. You found your eyes wandering over to someone who crossed your mind, and it seemed you weren't the only one when you and Dean happened to tell his younger brother the person the both of you thought of. It was in fact the younger Winchester. He fit the profile to a T, after all. "You?"

Sam's face dropped at hearing your guess that he wasn't the least bit amused with, you shrugged your shoulders from the lack of proper answers you could give him. You were stumped about this much as he was about what was going on to Shane, and how he was jumping in and out of death. Your brainstorming session was momentarily put on pause for the time being when your attention was drawn to the motel room door, after someone knocked on it. You furrowed your brow slightly at who was here so early in the morning.

Dean stood up from the bed and headed over to the window,  slowly drawing back the curtain to see who was standing outside on the steps. He saw a woman with her hands in her jacket pockets, waiting for someone to answer while she looked around the parking lot. She might look normal, but nothing was it seemed to the naked eye. He headed over to the door and pressed his gun against the door as a step of precaution before opening it enough only to let half of his body show. You were tempted to reach for your own weapon if things were to go down like how they had hours ago.

“May I help you?” Dean asked the stranger.

“Agent Boham?” The woman addressed him by the name he gave to the police department.

Dean stared at the woman for a second as to why she would know such a thing, cautious about the possibility she might be working with said people. After all, they were sort of one short of a body. "And you are?"

"This is gonna sound really strange, but I'm looking for a corpse that went missing today. The coroner said that you were the last one to see it." She said. Dean watched as she pulled a rolled up newspaper that was tucked underneath her arm, showing him the same news article you had that lead him here. Proving she wasn't a cop looking for the body, but someone who seemed to personally know him. "I'm Haley."

"Uh," Dean opened up the door wider to introduce you and his brother when the both of you headed over to see who he was talking to. You peeked out from Sam's large frame, spotting the woman...and a little boy by her side. You greeted him with a friendly smile, and a slightly cautious expression as to why she was here in the first place no early in the morning and asking questions that made you suspicious of her. "This is Agent Jones and Agent Clyde."

"Why are you looking into our John Doe?" Sam questioned the woman for her reason of being here, and as to why she brought a child along to see a dead body.

"Well, his name is Shane. At least, that's what I called him." Haley explained herself to all of you, and dropping a bombshell you weren't expecting. Your gaze fell to the little boy next to her side again when you realized who he was. "I'm the mother of his son.”

Haley was no threat to all of you, as a matter of fact, she was the only person you had with a connection to the man. Dean swiftly tucked away his gun into the back of his jeans and opened the door wider, crouching down to her son that had to be no more older than seven or eight. He gave him a smile and placed up his hand, trying to ease the situation with a high five. "Hey. Why don't you slap some skin, huh?"

Her son didn't seem to be in a friendly mood towards a couple of new faces he had never seen before, probably confused and a little bit scared at what was going on. "He's shy." Haley said, wrapping an arm tighter around her son's shoulder when he pressed himself closer against her side. "It's okay, Oliver."

Haley comforted her child before moving her gaze upwards again, and into the motel room she could see clearly into now that the door was wide open at this point. Her eyes locked on a body of a lifeless man she'd been tirelessly searching for. Dean realized the mistake he made from the expression that crossed her made, and knowing how it wasn't helping Oliver feel more comfortable at the sight of a dead body. "Oh, you weren't supposed to see—"

"It's okay." Haley mumbled as some kind of reassurance. Her focus was kept on the man when she squeezed by Dean and into the motel room, looking over her shoulder to give instructions to her son to make sure he stayed out of trouble. "Stay with the nice FBI agents, Oliver."

You looked over your shoulder to see Haley approach Shane's lifeless body, a sight that no child should see. Dean stood back up to try and block the sight from Olver as an attempt to make him feel more safe. You tried to take a crack at making him feel more comfortable around you. You crouched down the best that you could so you were at eye level with him and gave the kid a big, warm smile. You outstretched your hand for him to shake, only he left you hanging. He didn't do anything but stand there, you retracted your hand back to your side, deciding it was best to talk to him in a calm and comforting voice.

"Hi, Oliver. My name is Y/N. This is Dean, and that guy is Sam." You introduced yourself and the boys to Oliver, pointing at each of them for him to remember who was who. "The grown ups need to talk about some stuff that you probably won't care about. In the meantime, why don't we do something fun? Do you like to swing?" Oliver nodded his head slowly, making you smile at his response. "Me too. Why don't you let me grab my jacket and we can do that."

You pushed yourself back up to your feet and quickly grabbed your jacket from the seat, slipping it on and heading outside to meet Oliver again. You outstretched your hand once again for him to take it, and suprislnyl , he did. You gave him another smile and headed over to the swing-set that happened to be only a small distance around from the motels, giving Oliver something to do while his mother confirmed it was the same man she had been searching for years.

Oliver took a seat on one of the swings and you pushed him for a few minutes, trying to make small talk with him about how everything was going to be okay or if he wanted to go higher. He didn't say a single word in the few minutes that you were with him, making your heart ache for what he must be going through at the moment. So confused, and a little bit scared at the things he was hearing. One of the worst things about this job was when kids got involved, even if they were just around to hear the grown ups talk about things that went bump in the night. They should be able to maintain that slightest bit of innocence before the real world ruined it.

You continued pushing Oliver on the swing for another few minutes before you saw Haley and the boys step out from the motel room and headed over to the picnic table to talk among themselves. You told Oliver that you needed to speak to his mother and you'd be back soon, he didn't respond with a single word. You let out a sigh and headed over to the table, taking a seat next to Haley to hear her side of the story about how she got herself into this situation.

"When I was younger, I had friends that wanted to climb this mountain in Europe, and I thought it sounded exciting...so I joined them." Haley said, telling you the story about how she met a man with no name and the fateful night that caused her to fall pregnant with his child.

"The avalanche?" You asked, having a feeling you knew how the two met.

"He—He told you?" Haley sounded surprised at the bit of information you and the boys knew, hopeful there was more to share. "What else did he say?"

"Just that he doesn't remember how he got there." Sam said, telling her possibly Shane’s first and only memory he could recollect from this cycle of living and dying through the years.

"My friends were gone, and when I found him, his clothes were torn off, his eyes were frozen solid, but he was still alive." Haley said. "I just knew there was something off about him, the way that...he would—"

"Die everyday?" Dean finished the woman's sentence, having a feeling where she was trying to g with this story. Haley fell silent for a moment at how you seemed to catch onto the pattern. You seen it a few times and heard about his previous incidences about Shane's odd habits and the universe's fun toying with his life over and over again.

"Yeah. I thought it was from exposure or shock. Maybe he was unconscious. We were both in bad shape. And I couldn't have made it down the mountain if it weren't for him." Haley continued on, the smallest smile spreading across her lips at the memory of the time. Despite it being hell and torture, something came of it. A connection forged in a near life experience. For her, at least. "And when we got to the bottom, we...realized that it had become something else, and we spent the night together, and while were, you know...He had a heart attack."

Your eyebrows shot up at the twist in the story you weren't expecting, Dean sounded takenback himself from the mumbled response. "Awkward."

"So, I called 911, and they couldn't save him." Haley went on. “And I had to go down to I.D. the body..."

“He popped up again." Sam said. "Alive."

"I freaked out. And I ran. And nine months later, I had Oliver." Haley looked over her shoulder and to her son, who was still swinging by himself, but at a much slower pace than when you had been with him. You noticed his head was hanging low, making you feel even worse for some reason. There was a part of you that was telling you there was something wrong with him, but you couldn't put a finger on it. The more you observed him, the more the worry for him grew and his well being. "I hired a private investigator. I really tried to find him, but when they gave up, I gave up. Until a couple of months ago."

"Now, what made you look again?" You asked her out of curiosity.

"The worst thing." Haley said, her voice cracking slightly.

The way she responded to your question made you wonder what she was talking about, and why she grew emotional all of a sudden. You were tempted to try and get more information out of her, but before you could even get a single word out, your attention was drawn somewhere else. One of the doors to the motel room opened up and stepped out Shane, who was looking for alive than he had from the last time you saw him. He stood on the small porch area that overlooked the parking lot, as if he was trying to figure out where you and the boys went. He noticed all of you were sitting not too far away, but it was the sight of a face that he remembered from when he spoke it, and in a rather surprised voice after all these years.

Haley pushed herself up to her feet and began walking over to the man when he began to do the same. She called for her son to join her side, deciding it was time to act on the reason why the both of them were here in the first place. She held Oliver close to her side and gave Shane a smile from what she was about to say. “I thought it was time you two meet. This is Oliver.”

It didn’t take very much effort for the dots to start connecting in Shane’s mind from what why Haley was introducing her to this seven year old, or why Oliver looked an awful lot like him. The night they shared together didn't just end with her finding out about his condition, it caused them to have a child together.

You found yourself standing outside for a little longer than you anticipated just to watch the sight of Shane personally meet his son for the very first time, and reunite with the woman who helped save his life from years of misery and from hers being cut so short after losing the friends that brought here there in the first place. She would have died on the mountain, he would have suffered countless freezing cold deaths. Even though they knew each other for a short time, there was no denying you saw something between them that never faded from that night. Shane pushed his son on the swing while Haley was close by. A bonge forged from tragedy.

You heard the motel door open, breaking your concentration on the family to see that it was Dean bearing gifts in the form of a ceramic mug filled with what little caffeine you were allowed to have and a bottle of your prenatal vitamins you almost forgot to take. You gave him a smile and mumbled a thank you from remembering and swallowed down the pill, giving you one less thing to worry about today. He joined you at your spot next to the porch staircase to silently observe the parents that were playing with their son, at least, to an outsider's perspective.

It was weird to think that it might you and Dean in the near future. Hopefully the whole “Dad coming back from the dead” thing wouldn’t be attached to their growing up. That was years in the making, you still needed to have the child to worry about things like that.

When you heard the motel door room open and shut for a second time, you looked over your shoulder to see it was Sam heading down to join you and his brother after spending some time doing more research. “Did you find anything?” You asked him, taking another sip of your drink.

"Well...looks like we were right about the whole curse thing.” Sam said. “From what I can tell, we're looking at a titan."

"A titan?" You repeated after the man, sounding a little confused as to what that was. "I'm a little rusty on my Greek mythology, but isn't that like, a God?"

"More like a proto-God, like the Gods before the Gods." Sam explained to the both of you. "They ruled over Greece before Zeus and the rest of the Olympian Gods overthrew them."

“Okay, so who is this guy?” Dean asked his brother.

"Best as I can tell? Prometheus." Sam said.

“Wait, are you serious? Didn't he like..." You trailed off when you tried to remember what you did know about the figure that sounded familiar to you. "Didn't he go against someone? Steal fire or something?"

"Yep. He 'Ocean's Eleven'd' Mount Olympus and stole the flames from Olympia." Sam told you a little about the man and his brave act. Dean presumed it was all for kicks, but in fact, it was for a greater cause. "For us, actually. Zeus decided to revoke humanity's ability to make fire so we couldn't cook, couldn't stay warm, couldn't see in the dark.”

“Sounds like a monster’s paradise.” Dean remarked. “And this guy made it right for us?”

“Yeah. And in return,” Sam went on about the good deed that didn’t go unpunished for dear old Prometheus. “Zeus decided to strap him to that mountain and make him relive death every day.”

"Damn. Every day for how long? No wonder the guy's hard drive is fried." Dean said. Reliving the same day over and over again was mental torture enough, but to have the same death could make anyone go insane. It explained why Shane didn't remember who he really was. "Did you figure out who Xena-wannabe was?"

“I’m guessing Artemis, Zeus’ daughter. She’s been known to carry around weapons like that dagger.” Sam said. “They’re nasty. They’ll kill immortals dead.”

“All right. Well, we’ve never battled a God curse before.” Dean said. “Hope we can break it.”

It wasn't your first time going up against a God, but you never had the chance to break a curse that was struck down before the dawn of humankind. You studied up a little more to get yourself familiar with Prometheus, who had a rather traumatizing life. His punishment for death wasn't battling the frozen temperatures, but having a bird peck and rip out his liver, only for it to grow back again the same day. For the same, gruesome experience to happen over and over again. Now that you knew who Shane really was, it was time to come clean with the truth.

While Haley and Oliver continued to play outside, you turned the laptop around that Sam had been reading just a little while ago to show Shane what the younger man found. There were a few paintings of Prometheus chained down to a mountain and taking his punishment, something that he’d been during for quite some time now. Now it was time to explain what Shane was looking at was in fact him, even if he couldn’t recollect on the memory. “This is an eagle chowing down on your intestines, you don’t remember that?”

Shane shook his head no, you let out a sigh from how this was going. "Okay, look," Sam said, deciding there was no time anymore to beat around the bush. He was blunt with the man, telling him the truth up front. "I hate to break it to you, but you are Prometheus."

"Well, then, the best thing for me to do is to get as far away from them as I can." Shane said. It seemed he was taking the whole being a God pretty well, but you found yourself unsteady about what he thought the right thing to do was.

"Wait. I'm sorry." You said, raising a hand slightly in the air to stop him from saying another word. You felt the ends of your lips tweak, knowing Shane had accidentally hit a nerve in you from a situation you had endured not too long ago. "You just discovered that you have a seven-year-old son, and you want to walk away?"

"And I'm a God. And this God and his daughter are hunting me." Shane said, giving you all the reasons he thought was going to lead his family into danger. "What other choice do I have?"

“Okay.” Sam spoke up, shutting the laptop and taking control of the conversation before things could stray from what needed to be discussed. "We're gonna help you, but we need a plan first, and we can't come up with one here."

“Where are we going?” Shane asked.

“Someplace safe.” Dean ressured the man.

The one place where you had been calling home for over a month now, where no supernatural creature could get itself into, no matter how hard they tried. The Men of Letters bunker. You just needed to round everyone up and hit the road soon as possible. You were thinking that the danger wasn't going to begin until you started to poke the beast known as Zeus, but it seemed you had another problem you had to worry about. You thought Haley and Oliver were peacefully playing outside without much of a problem, but it seemed that was true for only so long.

When the motel door swung open without warning and Haley carried her unconscious son, you jumped straight up at the sight of his head wound that looked nasty. A sense of panic came over you from what was going on, your mind jumping to the fact that he needed to seek medical treatment—and fast. You took out your phone, asking Haley if you should call for an ambulance. Her response took you by surprise when she told you not to do so. She didn't seem like a neglectful parent, which meant one thing.

"He's dying, isn't he?" Shane asked, having a feeling he knew what was going on with his son.

"I was going to tell you," Haley said. "I just wanted you to have a chance to adjust."

"Wait a second," Sam said to Shane. "He has your curse?"

Haley had no clue what all of you were talking about, this curse that sounded like something bad. And it was. You felt your heart drop into your stomach from the sight you were enduring at this very second. Oliver wasn’t suffering from a head injury, he was dying in front of your very eyes. Whatever kind of punishment Zeus put on Prometheus had went down to his offspring. You felt your slowly rest over your stomach, knowing you knew a little something about family curses. You might have gotten rid of yours, but there was always that fear your kids were going to inherit the bad genes. Your personality traits you wanted to weed out into your offspring. It seemed Oliver got his father's eyes, and punishment from the looks of it.

+ + +

You and the boys were back in Lebanon by the next morning with Shane and Haley, along with a still unresponsive Oliver. You didn't waste any time with a history of the place or a tour, you found the nearest room closest to the opening of the bunker and dedicated it as a spot for the kid to recuperate. You opened up the door and stepped inside, following everyone else. Shane carried his son into the room and put him down on the bed that you had conveniently tied up during your break from hunting. It wasn't much, but it'd do for now until you figured out how to solve this problem.

"This curse was put on you." Dean said. "Why the kid?"

“You keep saying ‘curse.’ What curse?” Haley asked for what felt to be the thousandth time, not sure how much she could handle this conversation she wasn’t apart of.

“How long has this been happening?” You asked her.

"Oh, well, I—since he turned seven a few months ago." Haley said. "It started with the dying, and then he stopped talking."

“Wait, seven?” Sam repeated what he heard from the woman. You gave him a slightly confused look as to why he reacted so surprised. Because it meant Oliver was about to descend into a life he shouldn’t suffer. “Age seven marks one of the first Greek rites of manhood.”  

"So, what? Are you saying the curse is hardwired into his programming?" Dean wondered. "How do you know that?"

"Look at me. I'm sorry that I ran out on you all those years ago. I was scared. I didn't understand what was going on. But we have a child, and whatever you have, he has. I need to know how to stop it." Haley couldn't take being out of sync with the conversation that was about her child, who she raised on her own for the past seven years. She needed to hear the truth, even if it didn't make sense. She deserved to know. "What curse?"

[Next Part]

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[jaysomehero]

The Smell of Sunflowers. A Short Story.

We all think from time to time, about being loved unconditionally, a mother's touch, a lover's embrace, acceptance of one's self. We as humans crave it. From the moment you are violently screaming your existence into the world to when you are peacefully closing your eyes for the very last time.

You are put onto a path, one that takes you through this rugged, beautiful, odd journey, By accident, by purpose, by chance. You are introduced to individuals that teach you a thing or two about yourself. This story, is like that. Lessons learned, and purposes found.

A short, brief love story. If you are not doing much, perhaps offer a bit of your time.

I digressed, I was never really good at introducing a topic or story. You can say this is my first. If I remember correctly it starts around the same time as it is today. Cold, fall is passing and winter engaged. Although it was cold I remember being so warm, kind of glowing. Rebranded with new purpose. Cold air wrapped itself loosely and swiftly, felt like lace around my face, I was walking to work, I worked fast food at the time. I was a cook and typically moving in a hurry to work, with my music turned up loud enough to where I felt I was there. I really like to walk with my headphones in. The feeling and vibes, I could paint hearing the assembled sound of instruments. I could see the vibe attached with my music, I felt like I could describe it so well. My first love, music.

I loved waiting till the last minute, then bolt out the door energy drink in hand and moving like a bullet through the wind. Gotta love that youth, am I right? I just started Graveyard, and I got told it wouldn't be my usual coworker. I was used to working with.. Well for personal reasons I can't give you a name, so let's call her Molerat, as derogatory as that can sound, I find it appropriate. Usually an innocent girl, she just had a way of flipping a script and twisting your words into a balloon animal. One that you were unaware that you apparently made.

I don't have much at the moment I care to tell you about Molerat. Other than that I was not going to be working with her that night, I came in that night, per my usual timing a few minutes late, head to the back dropped my bag off, my bag I carried had my wallet, keys, an extra flannel red in color, my portable speaker, phone charger and typically an extra energy drink in addition to the one I had already. I took my energy drink and speaker to my work station which would be the grill area, back then this ritual, I believed made the shift more enjoyable, even though it was not enjoyable.

The smell of grease and burnt meat would be swimming toward my nostrils. The last of a dinner rush would be exiting and as the previous shift members were heading out and I settled in

Enter.. my coworker for the evening, I remember her wearing this thin black jacket with a flannel underneath, carrying a skateboard technically a long board, and a rasta colored satchel. She had this piercing above her lip, not in the middle but on the side. It looked cute honestly. She had these big doe like eyes, and lips that pursed like to together like those old style Hollywood actresses. After everyone from the last shift left, and we both were settled in, I attempted to introduce myself to her, in this story ladies and gentlemen, no names will be used. So call me Crow, cheesy I know but there's a purpose the name plays on and we'll get to that later. I remember awkwardly sticking my hand out like I was closing a business deal or something. She glanced at it and told me her hands were dirty. I think she said like a few minutes later. I felt a little rejected but not completely devastated. I mean after all we were both just there to scrape up some money and go home. I still wanted to push my boundaries though, so I get my speaker and turn it on. One especially great thing about working graves was no managers or shift leaders to tell you you couldn't play music out loud and best believe I took full advantage of it.

So I offer her the option to play music, most people when asked to play music don't often play THEIR music. To me it was a intimate thing to share music, intimate in a way without touching or talking like you got to hear the vibes these people vibe with.

We exchanged music, swapping song from song, the kitchen was filled with tunes of all kinds vibes in the air, from gritty, fast paced punk, through the lyrical morose of indie, to the feeling of joy and excitement in old and new songs. "Musical Soulmate" was what she called me before the night was over. Hummingbird is what I'm gonna call her. She was precious and pretty like a small Hummingbird. Like a floating little daisy that smiled and made me feel warm.

All these vibes and phases that my music helped me through. Being projected and straight into the ears of Hummingbird, This moment as I look back I would wanna call this phase the Color Yellow. They said Vincent Van Gogh ate the color yellow to cure his depression, unfortunately and ultimately succumbing to depression. I suppose the god of Death wasn't keen on just waiting around for such an artist to arrive. Bet he's painting some really beautiful things right about now, I really appreciated his pieces that included sunflowers. Those are my favorite, You gotta really give it to Death for giving life meaning.

Happiness is what the color yellow resembled and happiness in life was what I mark this brief period of my life. This happiness would be a story of love.

Eventually November flew by and December idled, blink and you'll miss it. Hummingbird and I grew more accustomed to each other. Although no feelings of love were declared you could see it, if you were there. That we were screaming it everyday at each other with every word, action and song played. You see I was supposed to be leaving to Oregon sometime within the next year, and December was well on its way to concluding a long and significant year in my change. New Year's eve, I still remember, Hummingbird and I shared our first kiss. Bringing in the new year together I was supposed to be getting to a party that night with a few friends. That kiss made me realize that there was nowhere else I'd rather be besides next to my Hummingbird. Nowhere else I'd wanna go, unless she was right there with me. So I canceled that move.

These next monthes would be confusing, exciting, and terrifying. As the phrase suggests Falling in love was exactly that. Falling, and falling and falling not stopping until you do, we were such careless lazy lovers. Living those days inside each other, it wouldn't be until the eve month of summer that a very specific surprise would arrive. The Crow and Hummingbird would be intertwined for life by the bond of birth. We were pregnant. We spent the summer trying to wrap our heads around it all. Having no car and living in the desert was a big drag, and a big challenge. It felt like I couldn't keep a job either. We were tasked with getting to know the best and worst parts of each other through the pregnancy. There were times of doubt, and times of reassurance. Keeping in mind this is a love story.

We'd eventually get a car and life was easier and through Fall and through the Winter we spent out on the road and on our own, flying wherever we wanted to be, enjoying every holiday as our last ones alone before the fruit of our trees would join us. I significantly remember Christmas 2018, how much I felt grown up, happy and carefree with my beloved. I wasn't just a Crow anymore, I was a Lovebird. Crows can be lovebirds too! The only purpose for using the name Crow. Lol That night is and will always be unforgettable. This is a love story.

January arrived and the month we both waited for. Again another January brought upon a new change, but this time for both of us. Our young, strong daughter was brought into this world on the 15th of January bearing the sign of the Sea Goat like her father before her. Blue eyed and resembling the beauty of her mother. Another light in my life was lit. Both of my girls were here. My beloved and my precious little girl. This is a love story.

This year would be a year of also many changes. For the better I do not know. For the worst I would like to think not. Lots of growing I witnessed in my daughter and in my beloved Hummingbird. I've never seen more growth from one person than her. She willingly let herself blossom and bloom into a woman. Becoming stronger, wiser, and even more gorgeous. Aging like fine wine. No jewel, no treasure, no goddess rivaled it. This is still a love story.

Somewhere along this year maybe the ending of the summer, there was doubt. Lots of doubt. I see it now, I lost strength and I didn't lose it naturally, I let myself lose it. Doubt was only natural. Love as you know is what we as humans crave. To not feel alone in a world that individualizes each and everyone. To eventually feel alone while being in love is a nasty thing. Nobody deserves such a thing. Maybe somewhere along the lines or between them there was a long lost feeling I forgot to tend to. A strong feeling. Ancient in age and has been felt since the dawn of man. If left unattended could consume the best of a man. This... Is... Still... A... Love... Story...

Lots of yelling, lots of hurting, lots of choices made. In the short time from September to November. Ladies and gentlemen this is a still a story.

Where we are left now is at the end. There are no more friends, there isn't a lover, there will not be a happy ending. Because To be frank I don't know what has ended or what has begun. I deserve no sympathy, no sad songs, and especially no love.

I the Crow, did this to myself, and I the Crow am the only one that has to be the one to fix myself. There is no smell of sunflowers and the one who smells of sunflowers is the same as the color yellow. They are happiness, they are good. Listen when I tell you that emotions run logic into the ground if left unchecked. Good men lose the battle everytime, we are warriors and not everything has to be a fight with hands. I used to think I knew how It all worked and how I could be better than I was.

Truth is I left those demons unchecked. I destroyed what I was given. I'm lost and I just want to see my girls. Hold them both in my arms. I don't want to give up. I don't want to hate. I don't fucking want to feel like this anymore. This is a love story. This is our story, this is my story, the story of a Crow that didn't learn anything and repeated his cycle. What's left is to move forward. There's only one way direction travels and that way is the only way to go. I apologize and will continue to do so till my final breathe.

I've learned its humility that humbles you. A tragedy that wisens you, and finally clarity is reached when you finally have faced those demons.

To my Hummingbird, I love you and will always love you. I'm on a path right now for a better and wiser me. Stronger and good of spirit. I do this for myself. But... I do, do this to maybe one day reunite. To meet each other again for the first time. It won't be soon, but I do truly hope to live in your arms and you in mine once this journey is completed. We could maybe be one, once more.

I'm alive and well. I don't wish to disrupt you and your peace but I do wish to hear from you and our daughter. Your well being and adventures. Thanksgiving will be here soon. I'm thankful we got to meet. Thank you.

Forever yours, the Sunflower

The Crow, The Alien, the Strutman, the Lovely Love, Kylo Ren, Jaysomehero

J. Thomas

[onwardintolight]

Mopey post that thankfully ends on a happy note

I’ve been kind of emotionally/mentally weird lately. Too anxious, or otherwise rather numb (sometimes weirdly both at once). Almost but not quite depressed. This is not the time of the year I want to feel that way. I want to soak it all in and enjoy. I want to be fully, exquisitely, exhilaratingly alive, like I sometimes have been. It hasn’t been terrible by any means, but neither has it been that.

Last night I had a bit of a breakdown because even after an afternoon of helping people — volunteering as Princess Leia at a Christmas party for traumatized children with my cosplay group — I still wonder if I really matter. If my being there or anywhere actually makes a real difference. I had some lovely interactions with kids, but I still questioned whether any of it was really meaningful. I know that, collectively, it was meaningful, that we as a group made a big difference, but somehow I still want to know that I made a difference individually. Perhaps that’s selfish, I don’t know. I just want my life to mean something, and I wish I could know without a doubt that it did.

I was also looking at all the pictures posted from that and from the Christmas parade I was in the night before and nitpicking every little thing about my appearance and generally feeling hideous. The great thing about cosplay is getting to inhabit a character you love, but the bad thing about cosplay is that it’s so easy to compare yourself to the source and come up with all the ways you “fall short.” Somehow the fact that people have told me I look like Carrie Fisher makes it a little worse when I fall into this cycle of self-loathing, because then I just feel like a really ugly version of Carrie Fisher. A perversion of Carrie Fisher. Not that I really want people to stop telling me I look like her, lol — it’s super flattering, and when I’m not in this frame of mind it’s not a problem. But it’s so easy to end up wishing I could change things about myself that I should be trying to embrace instead.

(The rest is under the cut due to potentially triggering content regarding weight/eating. For those of you who don’t want to wade through that to get to the happier resolution, please know I’m feeling much better at the moment, and have been encouraged by several things today. Alternatively, if you want to read the resolution, start reading where I’ve bolded the text)

I’ve gained some weight this year — which is objectively a good thing, I’m trying to remind myself. When I was at my sickest with MCAS and unable to eat much I lost 25 pounds when I couldn’t afford to lose much at all and was down to skin and bones. Now that I’m getting healthier, I’ve gained all those pounds back plus a couple more. I’m trying to keep everything in perspective, but it’s still incredibly jarring. I’m not getting the kind of exercise I used to when I danced every other day so more of my weight is fat than it ever was, and I’m struggling with my self-image. 

Again, I’m at a HEALTHY weight now (my doctor told me my BMI is right smack dab in the middle, and that I shouldn’t worry), and I should be happy about it, but I often hate myself in pictures now and think I look fat and I feel so desperate to be smaller again that I’ve caught myself seriously wishing I was just a little sicker so I could lose more weight, or thinking that maybe if I allow myself to go hungry for longer stretches that that will fix this. Not good.

I know I’ve been very privileged not to have to struggle with weight issues before and most of y’all are probably reading this and rolling your eyes or worse. I know that my current weight is what some people hope to achieve, but that doesn’t magically change how I see myself, no matter how terrible I feel for feeling this way. I don’t judge others because of their size. I’ve got a huge double standard going on here and I know it. But it’s hard to know how to fix it. 

BUT. All that being said...

Things did get better today.

I posted that picture of me and Darth and the little girl, and thought more about it all. I thought about how for the kids, my couple-of-pounds too many or the screen inaccuracy of my costume or the many other things I pick apart about my appearance did not matter in the slightest. I thought about the wonderful moments we did have. I thought about all the magical experiences the children got to have, and them going home happy. I thought about the importance of being there and being involved and fighting for others, even if I never know if it really makes a difference.

And that helped a lot.

Another thing that helped: I felt great physically tonight and ended up doing a dance warm-up/exercise routine. It was more than I’ve done in awhile and my body actually handled it like a pro. It made me remember how proud I am of my body for coming so far and for being able to do the things it can do. Yes, it was once sleeker and more powerful, but now it is victorious in a different way. And it is ready, expectant, pliable. I’m actually looking at taking a dance class again. I’m genuinely excited to see what I can do with my body in the coming year.

Anyway, all that to say, I’m feeling much more encouraged tonight. I know keeping this perspective will be difficult but over the coming days I’m going to try to hold fast to those things, no matter how slippery it all feels. And listen to what God tells me about who I am, because I know that if I could only see myself through his eyes, all my self-loathing would disappear. I am loved and I am whole and I am beautiful, no matter what I feel.

[katsukiboom]

Idk if the five hours are still in effect, but if they are, could I get a kabedon from Bakugou with a fem crush? Maybe Bakugou was asking for advice on how to win her over and Kaminari or something suggests doing it, and not knowing what else to do, he does it. Bonus if the reader is super shy/introverted.

Waaaa I’m sorry this took so long (,,꒪꒫꒪,,) I went through so many things when it came to writing lately that I wasn’t even sure if I could do something good with this. I hope you like it, and that my kabedon writing skills are good enough lol

He hated it. He hated that you were so cute, he hated that you were on his mind all the time, he hated how he always seemed to look for you whenever you were not in the classroom. Overall, Katsuki hated that he had not even a single clue about what to do with those feelings that kept bottling up inside of him until he felt the need to burst out and tell you to stop being so… you.

You were also in Class 1-A being the only student that had been able to switch schools due to impressive grades in every single one of your classes, and to say that you had caught the attention of all of your classmates since the first moment you stepped into the room would be an understatement. Katsuki watched as you clumsily introduced yourself on your first day, stepping over your own words with a bright blush tinting your cheeks and your gaze fixed on the floor before walking to your seat at the back of the classroom and focusing on your notes for the rest of the day. The only moment when they all saw you let loose was during training classes, your Quirk not being the strongest out of all the girls’ but still a strong match to all of them.

Katsuki had learned to like and respect that part of you from afar as he felt no need to even get closer with you, but the more he noticed about you the more the knot in his stomach grew – when did he even get all those thoughts? He most definitely wasn’t stupid when it came to love but it seemed like such a ridiculous concept that it didn’t even occur for someone like him to fall for anyone, let alone the complete opposite of his personality.

“Hey man, if you’re going to stare try to be less obvious about it,” said a smiling Sero during Cementoss’ class once they were all done with their work, a few free minutes left until their break begun. “I’m sure you’re burying daggers on (Y/N)’s body just with the intensity of your stare.”

Katsuki shot him a death glare that only made the tape boy laugh along with Kaminari, only fuelling his already immense internal anger. “Don’t tease him,” Eijirou intervened, “unless you want to be exploded.” He knew it was just part of more teasing towards him, but he also was sure that he deserved it - he was terrible when it came to feelings and showing them to other people, but love was something that had never been fully on his radar and that left him feeling quite vulnerable. “Hey, Kaminari, you’re the ladies’ man here; what should he do?”

Their blond friend had his face buried on his crossed arms on the desk but the sound of his name made him look up, a slight trace of drool the sole evidence that he had been falling asleep throughout the class. “Advice on how to get a girl, huh?” He wiped his lips with his sleeve before taking a thinking expression with his eyes slightly closed and a finger on his chin as if he was deliberating on something more important than just confessing to someone, making the other four guys sigh. “I myself have never tried it before, but maybe a kabedon could work for you? You’re not good with words so it might be better to do it through physical means.”

Unsure of what to make of the advice, Katsuki waited for a moment and was taken aback when his classmates burst out laughing, gaining a warning from the teacher to keep it down for the rest of the students that hadn’t finished their work yet. “What the hell is a kabedon anyways?” he asked, and then he couldn’t help but feel a bit out of date as the guys looked at him with incredulous gazes.

“You know, that moment in animes when the guy goes up to a girl and slams his hand on the wall behind her, trapping her within his embrace” Sero explained while recreating the usual motion people took when doing the kabedon with Eijirou, who was only smiling and nodding as his friend talked. “It’s supposed to be a moment when the two connect by their stares rather than their words, and it’s romantic and stuff. You could also sneak a kiss or two in if you’re feeling like it.” He made a kissy face towards Kirishima who pretended to be flustered over Sero’s actions, but Katsuki was struggling to understand how something like that could be romantic at all.

However, it was also the only idea he had so far.

I’ll kill them if it doesn’t go well, he thought as he gathered all of his courage before calling out to you once the break started. “Come with me,” were the only words he said to you before he walked out of the classroom and down the hall, way too nervous to even check if you were following even if he was sure that you were. He led you two to a slightly secluded area not far from the classroom, and once you were there he started to hesitate about what he was about to do. Sure, he was confident in himself and knew that he’d have a high chance at getting girls, but you were a complete mystery to him, one that made him spend hours and hours trying to figure out how to destroy the walls you built around yourself.

“B-Bakugou-kun?” you called out, pulling him out of his train of thought and making him turn around to face you again, his face and the tip of his ears flushed as red as his eyes. “Is everything okay? What did you want to talk to me about?” your voice was gentle and calm, only serving as more of a reason for him to lose his mind whenever he was near you. He eyed you for a moment before walking towards you, successfully making you walk back until your back hit the nearest wall - he gulped a bit as he noticed the way your eyes opened wide as he moved closer, but right as he was about to question his own actions he took the chance and slammed his hand on the wall just above your shoulder, making you jump in surprise.

Neither of you said a single word as he stared right into your eyes with the usual frown decorating his features, his heartbeat racing like crazy in his chest and his hands as sweaty as ever; he was even afraid he’d set off some small explosions just by the thought of having you that close to him. Katsuki could feel your breathing on him and see every detail of your face, the same face that drove him crazy in love. “You little…” he started saying, but then thought about his words better before saying something that could hurt you unintentionally. “You’ve done nothing more than run through my mind ever since you entered that damned classroom. It’s not funny anymore.” Your gaze moved from his eyes to the floor and he could see a furious blush now on your cheeks as well, and he could only hope he was doing things correctly. “You either reject me right now or become mine - it’s your choice.”

The words escaped him quickly but he could tell that the message he wanted to convey went through perfectly despite the circumstances, and as you slowly raised your head to look back at him he could see emotions like shock and doubt painted all over your face. “Is t-this a confession?” you asked, and when he nodded you looked back down while muttering something to yourself.

“What did you say?”

He hadn’t meant for that to come out aggressive but as you looked back up he could see a faint smile starting to appear on your lips, even if your eyes didn’t meet his again. Had he somehow fucked up? Your next words were quick to shoot his doubts down. “I… like you too…” you whispered, Katsuki now able to understand you with a smug grin of his own appearing on his face. Pulling away from the wall and setting you free, it was his turn to look away as he wiped his hand on his jacket before offering it for you to take - when you did he noticed just how soft and warm you felt, even better than what he had imagined.

I should go and thank Pikachu for this, he thought as you both started making your way back to classes with many curious stares fixed on your backs.

[chuckling-chemist]

Let’s Start The New Sweep Right (10/14)

((Opening starts with Careen, so again, if bad relationships upset you I advise just skipping down. Song referenced this time was Libertango. Love me that Libertango))

“Darling, I’m going to dance with a very important political troll. I do hope you don’t mind, because frankly I don’t think you can change mine.”

Dontoc nodded absently. It hadn’t taken particularly long for Careen to end up getting bored of him after the first couple dances and had pretty much left him near the wall for her to flit about the ballroom. He offered to go with her out of obligation, but she declined, citing improper dress for the kind of politicking she needed to do at this event. Not that being told he can’t go with her upset or disappointed him in any way, but it did lead the way to having nothing to do. Initially he tried looking for Mayola or Valeba, but the search ended rather quickly when the crowd in the main floor thickened and his anxiety took over. Dontoc ended up hanging on the wall next to a bowl of unfortunately mediocre punch kept cool by an ice sculpture of some sort of bird.

“Dontoc? Are you even listening to me?”

He jumped, inhaling sharply. A shaky hand ran through his hair, trying to calm himself. “My...my apologies. Did you say something? I am afraid I may have become lost in my own thoughts there.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “I’m going to dance with another troll, and you can’t stop me from doing so.”

He blinked owlishly and furrowed his brow in thought. “Oh...yes. Yes. You just said that. Was...was there nothing else?”

“You’re not going to try and stop me?”

“Careen, you are your own troll. I am not going to become upset and possessive simply because you wish to dance with…” he trailed off as he looked around for whoever she was talking about, but found no one amidst the sea of trolls, “with someone political.”

She tapped her foot with tightly pursed lips, making soft clicks with enough fervor Dontoc thought it might go through the floor. He steadied his breath, bracing himself for the worst. They were not about to have this fight. They were not about to fight because he let her do what she wanted.

Another troll appeared out of the crowd: a towering indigoblood, taller than Dontoc by a good few inches, in a pair of pantaloons and puffy white shirt who’s pompadour made him instantly recognizable to him. He wrapped an arm around Careen’s shoulders with a noticeable smarmy grin. “I see we meet again, seadweller.”

Dontoc gave the troll a lazy once over before turning back to Careen. He hadn’t noticed the tight boots going overtop his pants, up past his knee and tight enough it hugged every crease of his body to the ankle, and to be frank he wished desperately he hadn’t. “Please, do not mind me,” he told her, amiable smile plastered on his face. “I can entertain myself for a few songs.” Not as if you have not already led me to do such a thing.

“But are you sure?” Careen asked. She patted the indigoblood’s hand. “You’re not upset or anything?”

He shook his head. “We have already had this conversation. That would be--” Dontoc stopped as Careen whipped her and her partner around wordlessly away from him to mesh in with the waltzing dance partners. “--idiotic,” he finished softly.

Well, it wasn’t a fight.

He filled his champagne flute up to the top with more punch. He held no desire to return to the VIP area where Atenic likely still sat in perfect silence to stare vacantly until some other troll thought her mannerisms were cute or endearing and not deeply, deeply disturbing. And while the area was certainly less populated, the closer quarters made it feel just as busy as the main floor without the benefit of being able to easily escape outside without passing by burly bouncers in suits far too tight for them, nor was it possible to really disappear into a crowd when there wasn’t technically one to begin with. Hanging on a wall here to watch the orchestra musicians switch out between sets made him look no different from the other rainbow of castes collecting near the wall for whatever reason. Staying near the wall in the VIP area, where every troll appeared to have brought a date or have the charisma to snag another troll going stag, actively made him look lonely.

Another song started up, this one opening up with the director leading others into a steady clap in time to the staccato hits of the piano. Many of the trolls closer to the orchestra dancing picked it up immediately. Some of the more clever ones even worked it into their tango. Dontoc watched a few trolls not far from him that also wallflowered to the wall give half-hearted claps. He didn’t himself, but he also didn’t wish to set down his glass.

“Too good for a few claps?”

Now there was a voice he wasn’t soon to forget. A voice like good chocolate: smooth, familiar and reminiscent distinctly of late mornings on the computer in comfort. He didn’t even need to look over to check who was talking. He could never forget the voice of his moirail.

“Perhaps one should look in the mirror, for I at least have justification,” he said cheekily. He lifted up his glass, taking the smallest sip before setting it down gently on the table.

“Well I do too.”

He turned to her, quirking an eyebrow. “And what, my dear, would that be?”

“This.” With a laugh, she took his arm and pulled him into a tight embrace. Dontoc let his head bury itself into her shoulder. The warmth from her body radiated from her, from the arms wrapped around his back and the hair tickling his face that made his fins twitch and flutter. “God Dontoc, never knew you were one for PDA,” she joked.

“I think the troll world at large will manage to accept a brief moment for two moirails who have not seen each other in...oh goodness how long has it been?” He pulled his head up to look at her, letting his arms fall down to her hold her hands. Valeba was radiant. Now that they were close up, he could see every intricate piece to her outfit. And was her eyeliner winged? Did Mayola convince her to wing eyeliner? “Goodness you look fantastic. And Ardeen is not even here to watch.”

“Yeah, but can you imagine Ardeen here?” She turned around briefly as the accordion swelled to take a look at all general populace. “He owns like...one suit. Maybe. I’ve never seen it. I think he’s fucking with me.”

“Does it still fit?”

“Did yours when we first met?” She smirked.

Dontoc smiled sheepishly, purple blush inflaming his cheeks. “Ah...well I had yet to phase them all out, yes. Ace...ace...Aisral is a very busy troll, you are aware, and well, she had to fix all of my suits due to the lack of care I had given them and... oh you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Well yeah.” Her smirk fell. “Everything okay?”

“As okay as it can be when you are stuck with Careen. And her company. And the crowd. And....” He sighed, shaking his head. “I should be glad she abandoned me some time ago, but...well, you know. Afraid it is rather limiting.”

“Yeah, I do.” Her smile returned in coupling with gently squeezing his soft hand in her calloused one. You need to take your thinkpan off things, or do you wanna talk?”

His fins fluttered furiously to match the deepening violet. “Here? Valeba, a hug is one action, but we are moirails and this is not a Sandyhorn party. For the two of us to curl and talk so brazenly at this would be frowned upon. Normally, I would not care so much, but you’re Mayola’s kismesis now and--”

She chuckled. “Okay, I get it.” With a pat of his shoulder, she added, “Doing it at a formal ball with your moirail is eons different from doing it at a diner with a crush.”

Dontoc’s mouth fell open. “Valeba that was your idea!”

She wasn’t wrong by any stretch of the imagination. Valeba was one of the only few trolls who knew how his and Pallia’s relationship existed in a dubious red area, seeing as it was her advice that backfired.

She grinned. “And did it make things feel better, after the awkwardness faded away?” Dontoc wanted to answer to try and refute it, but his phone got to him first. Lying and saying he wasn’t texting anyone was one thing. Trying to convince his moirail he was texting anyone other than Pallia was another story entirely. “That’s her isn’t it?”

He slid his phone out just enough to see Pallia’s name flash over top the words “glassin’s utterly trasshed lol” along the top of the screen. He held back a grin as the mental image of what Glacin could possibly be doing to necessitate a text flooded his mind. Hopefully there was a picture attached to it. Pallia wouldn’t just hang him out to dry.  “Of course.” He slid his phone back down to look back up at her. Checking it around company was impolite. “You know me too well, Valeba.”

“Well first off, I’m your moirail. Pretty sure that’s expected.” 

“This is true, yes.”

“Second, I’d like to think you’re pretty easy to figure out.” She shrugged nonchalantly. She paused to push a loose strand of hair that fell from her bun behind her ear. “You’re a geek who does geek things with anxiety, so sometimes you don’t do geek things. Like now, you’re hanging on the wall because there’s a lot of people and these types of fancy shindigs really aren’t your thing.”

Dontoc nodded. His hands slid into his pockets, pushing the tweed jacket back behind them. “So you can predict, theoretically of course what I shall do next with a relatively low margin of error.”

“Probably.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I am afraid, your calculations are off.” 

She raised her eyebrows doubtfully. “And where would that be, oh wise seadweller?”

The song ended in a flurry of sixteenth notes running about the scale. Anyone watching, on the dance floor or out of the corner of their eye, could catch the bowstrings of the violins moving about furiously all the way until the finale. Trolls, dancers and onlookers alike, stopped what they were doing to applaud the orchestra musicians. A couple doing the solos even stood up and bowed. Somewhere in that crowd was Careen and that ridiculous indigoblood, possibly laughing and judging him for something now that he was away. Careen undoubtedly also told him more, about his choice of moirail and “unwilling” attitude about dancing. He wasn't sure if Careen was trying to send some kind of message (what that would be, he couldn't begin to fathom) or if she was attracted to men in ill-fitting clothing. It certainly explained her initial draw to him, much as that thought it really was that shallow left a bad taste in his mouth.

But Dontoc shut all that out. Focusing on the crowd led to nothing good, especially now of all times where doing such led to the desperate want to leave. Not when he wanted to do something unexpected. He let out a slow breath, silencing his thoughts and forcing his shaky hands to steady long enough to take hers again. A sly smile played on his lips. “From the sounds of it, you do not anticipate for me to request an official dance. And yet, I would like to ask my lovely moirail if she would like to dance. Crowd be damned.”

He watched with amusement as Valeba’s expression morphed from surprise; looking about the room to hide the rising blush on her cheeks; then confusion, then playful. She mirrored his own smile with shining eyes. “Well…” she said lightly as she shifted to the balls of her feet to ready herself, “since you asked nicely, I just don’t think I can refuse.”