#I want next semester wah

[flowerycoffin]

Everytime I’m burned out with studying and/or stressed I start checking aesthetic notes and random outfits to keep going.

You can guess where am I now

[angered-box]

man ur so lucky that ur uni offers language classes. we have to take them from the uni across the street if we wanna take em >.> the only languages my uni teaches is programming languages :P

i want to get better at jp but i am So bad at studying >.>

wah kinda but not rlly lucky? i wanted to take mandarin due to the fact i took two semesters in hs but they don't have it so jp was my next bet since i didn't want to learn the other few they offer really ^^;

also idk if this will sound weird but if you want to we could study sometime together ^-^

[tikitsune]

Platonic!SWF 2 x VA!Reader

Part 1

Next |

Word count: 1k

Warnings: I don't know how the real world works apparently

Notes: I finally gave into my temptations and made one despite the fact that I have zero experience writing for real people. Lemme know how it goes.

I'll be honest, it's mostly gonna be JR, Bebe and Tsubakill, with half Mannequeen/1Million and not so much of LadyBounce, Wolf'Lo and Deep n' Dap.

Ling looked up from her phone. "Hey, Kristen. You said we wanted another person right?"

Kristen looked at her in confusion. It was about a week before they had to send in their member count and while she satisfied the team requirements with five, it couldn't hurt to have an extra person for safety.

"Uhm.Yeah. Why? Do you have someone?"

Ling went back to staring at her phone and scrolling through something. "Yeah. Just a sec. Any minute now."

Whatever it was that Ling was waiting for drew the rest of the people in the studio in. Audrey and Emma briefly stopped their playful banter about a tik tok dance to look at their oldest member. Latrice took out an earbud from where she was working on a choreograph. Kristen walked over to where Ling was and peered at her screen. She was staring at the Jam Republic 'Meet Our Artists' page. Over and over again, each time, reloading the page.

She eventually scrolled to the name she was looking for. [Name]. Upon further clicking of the profile the name to pop up was '[Name] Zhang'. Below that was a description of her accomplishments in dance.

"Yes!" Ling nearly shouted, pumping her fist. "Guys, meet my sister, the potential 6th member of the Street Woman Fighter 2's Jam Republic team."

She turned her phone to face her other team members. They all came to crowd around her to look at her phone. "Wah! She looks so young!" Audrey, the youngest in the group, looked quite interested in a potential younger member.

"She is. She's 19 and just transferred to a Cal State from Community college in Cali." Ling looked at her sister's picture. "She's working towards a major in theatrics and the best part is... She's a voice actor."

Emma looked a bit perplexed. "If she's a voice actor, how is she in Jam Republic?"

Ling only smirked. "She is a choreographer and a voice actor."

Kristen smiled at the older girl. "Well, can we see a video of her dancing? I don't want to exactly say now but I want to see her skill level first."

Latrice butt in. "Wait—. Does she go by any pseudonym or something like that?"

That brought everyone's attention back to Ling. "Uh. Yeah. I think she goes by Sino in the show biz. Like she uses [Nsme] Zhang as her dance name and everything else uses Sino."

Latrice looked excited. "You mean the Sino who choreographed some of the Descendants 3 dances at 15? The one who helped with the live action Mulan fight scenes?"

Everyone was taken aback by Latrice's excitement as well as the supposed new information. "Let me ask."

Ling opened her phone contacts and clicked on a contact named 'the talented 🎤'.

"Yup. According to her, that's it." Ling looked up from her phone.

Audrey looked at Ling. "You must be so proud of her to do that at such a young age."

Ling smiled at their current youngest member. "I am."

Everyone could hear the pride in Ling's voice. Her eyes lit up again before she opened YouTube on her phone and showed them a short of what seemed to be [Name] dancing a choreography to 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron. It was quite the sexy song and somehow it fit [Name] very well. Her moves were very flowy but held a lot of energy. Her sultry expressions worked well, making her seem older than she actually was. [Name] finished in a floor pose before she got up, giggling a bit and the video cut.

Everyone collectively awed at the adorableness that was displayed at the end of the video. “Yeah. I’ll add her if she wants. Do we need to get her a plane ticket as well?”

“No need. She’s at the University of Seoul as a student exchange student for the semester. Going there for theatrics, dance and, surprisingly, foods." Ling looked at her phone again.

It rang and she picked up. The screen showed [Name], seemingly in bed. "Hey, Ling Ling. What's up?"

[Name]'s voice was soft, but rough. She was supported by a red covered pillow, her hair was thrown in a messy bun that rested on her head and her phone seemed to be propped against the head end of the bed frame. Her sleepy, half-lidded eyes were framed by round black glasses. "Hi [Name]. I'm with the girls here."

Ling panned the camera, each member waving at the screen.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Hey."

"Hiii!"

"Hello to Kristen, Latrice, Emma and Audrey, I believe." [Name] looked up, trying to remember each member's name by face. When she got confirmation that she was right, she smiled a soft smile. It took a lot for everyone to not 'aww' at her cuteness.

"So, is there a reason you are calling me…" She seemed to look slightly to the upper left corner of her phone. "... at 06:15 in the morning? Like I can understand a text but a call?"

The girls exchanged glances and a chuckle. "Uh yeah. That would be my fault." Kristen said.

[Name] raised her eyebrow, "Mmm. And why is that?"

"Well I was wondering if you would like to be a part of our group for Street Woman Fighter 2. While 5 people is enough, it would make me feel better if we had another, you know?" Kristen looked a bit shy as she spoke.

[Name] pushed the bridge of her glasses up her nose as her face contorted into a contemplating look. "On what days? I have three classes on Saturday and that's it."

Due to [Name] being an exchange student, she didn’t need to take the necessary classes that most Korean students must take and it just so happened that her classes/lectures were all on the same day. Theatrics first thing in the morning at 08:00 and would span out for 2 hours. Food started at 13:00 and again ended two hours later. Dance would not begin until 18:00 and go till 20:00. (I must preface this by saying that I have never been in an exchange program before so not all of this is accurate. And yes, I use military time, if I have to do math for the ‘normie’ people, then you can do math for me.)

“Mhm… We don’t know yet actually. We can just catch you up on things when you’re not here.” Ling propped her phone on the studio mirror and sat back.

[Name] rubbed her eyes behind her glasses before pushing up the frame. “Yeah, sure.” She yawned.”My apartment building was rented out for people so i can only assume that would be for the competition. So tell them not to worry about the room placement for me.”

She scrubbed her hand over her face, brought her book in front of her before looking at the camera. “All right, If that’s all, I’mma get back to reading.”

“Nah. All good here, sis, thanks. Love you.” Ling picked up the phone as everyone waved behind her.

She ended the call, smiling at her two worlds meeting.

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION “Coup De Foudre” [ 4.13 ]♮Part 2

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Taking their own lore tour, Isa and the MacNamaras make their next stop on the Isa Essentials expedition. They drop by BLUE NGUYEN’s for a late lunch. They look just as trendy and laid back as the last time we saw them, and only slightly frazzled by the prospect of hosting one of the world’s biggest film stars for an afternoon tea.

BEATRIX TORRES and JERICHO TORRES are also in attendance, a fair representation of the company Isa has kept since they finally left the foster system. Ruby jumps right into socializing and goes to introduce herself, while Isa and Zachary hang back a moment in the entryway to take it all in.

Isa: Family reunion, part 3?

Whatever they want to share of their world, Zachary will take it. He gives them a gentle smile.

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Charlie and Zay are back at the former’s apartment, crashed on the couch together. Even though Zay has only actually been there a few times, he seems to be quickly making himself at home, not at all out of place in the space.

And even though they’re being somewhat vague about their relationship status to everyone else at the moment, they once again are having no issue presenting like they’re reattached at the hip. Relative to the past, they’re quite cozy together on the couch, sitting far closer than they need to be given they have the whole thing to themselves. They could easily spread out with room to spare, but instead they’re both scrunched over on one side, shoulders and elbows and knees touching as if it’s so casual.

Right now, they’re flipping through brochures, looking at the courses the college Charlie has chosen -- but not yet revealed to the rest of us -- are offering. Classically, Zay seems unimpressed.

Charlie: Come on. “Marriage and Morals Among the Victorians?” “The Art of the Diary?” [ humming excitedly ] “The Philosophical Life?” You can’t tell me those don’t sound interesting. Zay: Charlie. Charlie. Look at me. Look deep into my eyes. [ taking his face ] It does not sound interesting.

Oh, wah wah. Zay is just anti-academia. Charlie shrugs him off, making a face, but he knows he’s only teasing him. Honestly, it’s cute to see him so enthused about it, to get to watch him nerd out unapologetically again. It’s a far cry from how he seemed about Yale.

Zay raises his eyebrows when Charlie flips the page in the brochure, displaying the list of language courses. He points out Charlie could probably test out of that requirement given his French experience now -- unless he’s determined to take twenty credits a semester or whatever. Then he points towards another one beneath it on the list.

Zay: Though I suppose it might be wiser to brush up on your Italian. You know, in case they determine you guilty of gay crimes against humanity and ship you back to serve your sentence. Charlie: Whatever I was doing over there, I promise you, it wouldn’t be considered criminal. [ off his slightly jealous expression, with a grin ] Besides, I’ll have you know my Italian is decent. Zay: Oh, yeah? Prove it. Say something right now. Charlie: [ with a scoff ] I don’t have to prove it… Zay: Mm… that kind of just sounds like you don’t want to prove otherwise. And that I’m right.

God, he really is so cheeky… and a bit transparent. As if he just doesn’t want to hear him speak a foreign language again… so Charlie obliges, rolling his eyes just for the impression that he’s inconveniencing him.

Charlie: [ in Italian ] Isaiah, you are very stubborn… and quite wondrous. Zay: Okay… okay… you’re insulting me, aren’t you?

Maaaybe… just a little of everything. Charlie shrugs coyly, earning a nudge from Zay, who isn’t satisfied. That was just one sentence! Anyone can learn one sentence. Say something else.

Charlie: You are so demanding. What am I to you, Duolingo? Zay: No way -- that owl has way more rizz than you.

Um, hello?! Charlie scoffs out a laugh, lightly shoving him back. They fall into a playful brief back-and-forth, naturally ending up pressed closer together in the process, until Charlie finally relents and offers him one more treat through the chuckles.

Charlie: Ti amo! Ti amo molto, Zay, capisce?

Yes, Zay can translate that even with his limited knowledge of the language. And it hits exactly as intended, still knocking the wind out of him. That comment about his rizz was far too premature.

But Charlie did meet his request, so all right, he’ll reward him. He closes the small gap between them and gives him a kiss. It lingers, their lips brushing again as soon as they pull apart.

Zay: I mean, you could’ve just Googled that, but…

This guy. Honestly. Charlie shakes his head, endeared grin unstoppable, before stealing another kiss.

Zay: Let’s hear it again though. Just for thoroughness.

So transparent… but Charlie is happy to deliver. He’s got a lot of time to make up for.

Charlie: Ti amo, Zay. Zay: Yeah? Charlie: Mhm… [ another soft kiss ] Ti penso ogni giorno. Sempre. Amore mio. [ and another ] Ti amerò sempre.

Okay, Zay definitely can’t translate all of that, but he doesn’t need to. Charlie’s delivery gets the message across regardless, gentle and tender and just barely above a whisper. Palpable in its soft sincerity.

I think of you every day. All the time. My love. I will always love you.

If Zay didn’t want to get got, stumbling into another unbeatable, inescapable moment with Charlie Gardner, then he shouldn’t have fucked around. Now he’s found out… and, truth be told, he isn’t mad about it.

Zay: Okay, fuck me, then.

Charlie breaks into another laugh, then gladly accepts another kiss. They let this one linger too, blending naturally and effortlessly into another one… then another, just a tad more carried away…

Until they’re interrupted, keys jingling briefly in the lock before the apartment door swings open. They jump as Riley steps into the room, the three of them staring at each other with wide eyes for the briefest of moments before Riley immediately swoops into apologies.

Riley: OMG. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m interrupting, aren’t I? Sorry, sorry --

Based on the look on Zay’s face, yes, she is definitely interrupting -- but he can’t stay mad at Riley. He joins Charlie in assuring her that the intrusion is fine. She assures them in return that she won’t be long (so they can get back to whatever they were, um, doing… ha ha), she just wanted to stop by and pick some things up for Lucas.

Riley: We’re trying to consolidate all his things in one place before the big move -- I know there’s still a ton of time, but it’s a slow process. He keeps forgetting about this stuff that Grace is asking about, so I told him I’d stop by after class to grab it.

A lot on his mind making him distracted. This conversation rings a bell for Charlie, who recalls Lucas mentioning something similar. He climbs to his feet and claims he’ll go grab the box for her, disappearing back into Lucas’s room.

While they’re briefly alone, Riley settles onto the opposite end of the couch and turns her curious eyes on Zay. She glances over her shoulder to confirm Charlie is still searching, then drops her voice to a conspiratorial murmur.

Riley: Based on whatever I just walked in on, things seem pretty good between you two. Zay: Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way. Riley: So does that mean -- I mean, are you two…?

It almost feels dangerous to verbalize it, like it might shatter if they do. Are they actually, finally, back together? Could we get some official confirmation here? She can’t help it -- she’s nosy.

Much like before, despite Riley’s undeniable charm, Zay holds his ground. He gives her the same story he gave Maya, that they’re not confirming anything until they’ve wrapped up the loose ends in their current plans and made certain their choices will work out how they want. So for now, no additional clarity, but rest assured…

Zay: You’re right, things are good. [ glancing in the direction he left ] We’re working it out.

Together, this time. With communication, clarity, and no room for confusion. That makes all the difference.

Riley is clearly dying to know all the details, but she doesn’t push. She can respect their desire for privacy, and mostly, she just seems relieved they’re in a good place. It’s been a long, long three years of being in the middle of their tragedy, watching it all unfold and helpless to do anything about it.

Thankfully, her fix-it instincts are no longer needed here -- doubly good, considering she may not be here much longer. She jumps to her feet again when Charlie reemerges with the shoebox from Lucas’s room, handing it off to her with a smile. She thanks him, slipping her bag off her shoulder to tuck it safely away.

While she has both of them, she asks if they’re free over the next couple of days. She wants to go shopping for a few things before the potential major changes this summer, and she thought it would be a fun way for them to spend some quality time as a trio. Since they’ve basically never gotten to do that before, given past circumstances, and because she may not have many opportunities to do so soon if all goes to plan.

Yeah, her big plans�� it’s clear based on how she speaks about it around them that she’s brought Charlie up to speed, too, so they’re in the loop. Zay still looks hesitant about the whole thing, but wisely chooses not to comment; Charlie seems less concerned, happily agreeing for both of them that they should be free.

Before Riley goes, she takes a second to check in with Charlie too, softening her voice as she broaches the topic. Not wanting to intrude any further, but they haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk…

Riley: Are you doing okay? You know, with the… with your family?

Charlie seems surprised she’s asking. He offers an unbothered smile, shrugging.

Charlie: Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Riley: Are you sure? I know this has to be hard, so -- Charlie: No, for sure, but I’m all good. Got other stuff to be focused on right now, anyway. So.

He brightens his smile, convincing as ever. Riley can only take him at his word -- she doesn’t exactly have time to wear him down otherwise.

So she says goodbye for now, giving him a quick hug and blowing Zay a kiss as she promises she’ll see them later this week. Charlie follows her to the door, seeing her out, before flopping back down to rejoin Zay on the couch. He brings an arm up to drape behind Zay on the couch, a detail Zay notices and is not at all opposed to. Kind of boyfriend behavior…

But his mind is caught on moments earlier. Riley brought it up so he didn’t have to, but admittedly, he’d been waiting for the right time to ask.

Zay: Did you mean what you said? Charlie: Hm? Zay: When Riley asked about your fam. Specifically, Helleanor. Charlie: Oh. Well, yeah. Zay, skeptical: Really? [ a beat ] I’m not trying to be pushy. I just know how… if you want to talk about it, then you know you can always --

In short, he thinks his unbothered, chill persona might be bullshit. Given all the history and context, he has very good reason to think so. But Charlie is apparently committed to it, truth or not, because he gives Zay the same shrug and manages a smile.

Charlie: No, yeah, I meant it. I’m good. Zay: … really. Charlie: I mean, is it how I wanted things to go? No. But I can’t change it. That’s not something I can control. No sense being inconsolable about it.

That’s mature, and neat, and everything… but it still doesn’t sound quite right. It kind of feels like they’re sixteen again, and Charlie is doing that thing where he’s so totally okay with everything it almost doesn’t feel human. 

And just like then, Zay sees right through it. He can sense the plastic covering Charlie has plastered over this vulnerability, pretending it’s all fine, but he isn’t sure how to puncture it without making a big mess. One he doesn’t want to make, given how they’re finally in that place where things are pretty good.

Charlie basically echoes as much, giving him a smile that feels markedly more genuine.

Charlie: Besides, like I said, I have a lot of other stuff to be focusing on. [ gazing at him ] There’s a lot of good in my life right now.

That, at least, is true enough. Zay returns the smile, letting Charlie lean close and pull him into another kiss… though that uncertainty is still itching at the back of his mind.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

To wrap up the afternoon, Isa takes Zachary and Ruby to Adams. It feels a bit surreal to walk through the doors again, to take in the vast, empty entryway that’s quiet save for JANITOR HARLEY KEINER allowing them inside.

Zachary: It’s nice of you to let us stop by. Harley: Through express permission of the principal himself only. It pays to be well-connected. Isa: I’m well aware, though not by choice. Harley: But you’re right. It’s not as though Isa would’ve finagled their way in here regardless of whether I said yes, likely with help from one of their many former classmates. These kids never do dastardly things like that. [ clasping his hands together ] Ain’t that right, De La Cruz? Isa: Completely. One-hundred percent. No one gets into this school that isn’t supposed to.

Uh-huh. Harley narrows his eyes slightly, then backs off, stating it was a pleasure to meet them all. Especially Zachary -- he’s a big fan.

Zachary: Oh, well. Thank you. Ruby: Most everybody is. You love the Hastings films, I’m guessing? Harley: Oh, no. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re good fun. But I’m all about the deep cuts. Like Hard Knock Flight, when you played that down-on-his-luck janitor who had to thwart the assassins? [ touching his chest ] I deeply felt that one. Thank you for your work.

Right… well, if that’s all, Harley will leave them to it. As he does, Isa gets sucked back into looking around the atrium. It’s not like it’s been ages since they’ve been here, with Eric as principal, but the scary part is how every time, it starts to feel further away. This reminder of how even as it remains unchanged, the clock is ticking, moving them further and further apart from this time and this place.

To Ruby and Zachary, though, it’s all brand new, and that eases the homesickness somewhat. Ruby is more than excited as she takes it all in, pointing out details Isa has mentioned like the staircase and the tall ceilings. She grows even more keen when she sees the display with all the photographs from past years and shows, a few from Beauty & The Beast still managing to hold their place.

Ruby: Look at your friends… oh, this is lovely. They all look so great. Zachary: You weren’t in this one? Isa: Nah. I decided to go back to my techie roots this time around. And it was better that way -- all my friends got to do their thing, get their starring moment, and I got to build a death contraption with my best friend. Kind of memories you just can’t substitute.

Zachary raises his eyebrows at “death trap,” but doesn’t get the chance to ask. Ruby finds the photograph of the entire cast and crew up by the top left -- which includes the techies -- and points it out.

Ruby: I’m sorry, but this is just too lovely. Look at you all! You’re going to have to show me all your pictures next time you’re out to visit and tell me all the stories.

Honestly, that sounds nice. Isa smiles.

Isa: I’ll put out a call to get an accurate roll of photos, sure. Zachary: That’ll be neat. I bet the boys will like it too. Ruby: Oh, and we should certainly invite Farkle over too. You’re both such good storytellers, and I’m sure his performer perspective would be a good counterbalance to whatever perspective you give us. Balance the biases, I think.

It’s a cute idea… but it just unwittingly tears open that cut in Isa’s chest again. They manage not to show it, keeping their smile intact, but it falters just enough to signal that the reminder digs deep. 

And who knows how much longer they might have to even remotely try to fix it…

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

The next day, the door to the Minkus penthouse opens, Zay standing on the other side. He’s holding a shopping bag, and based on Farkle’s expression, he wasn’t expecting to see him.

Farkle: Hey? Zay: Hey. You gonna invite me in, or? Farkle: Oh, yeah. Sure.

He steps back, allowing him to step inside. Definitely not opposed to the surprise pop-in, but not at all prepared for it. His mind is on keeping his emotions in check, and getting ready for LA, and nowhere near base levels of cool to hang out with Zay -- if he had any at all to begin with.

Farkle: Uh, what are you doing here? Zay: Do you not read your texts? I mentioned I was gonna stop by while I was in the neighborhood. Jada’s only a couple stations away, so -- Farkle: Oh, uh, no. I didn’t see that. I haven’t been looking at my phone much lately.

Try at all. He’s basically actively avoiding it. Unhelpful, clearly, as Zay rolls his eyes.

Zay: Richest bitch in Manhattan, and you don’t even look at your brand new iPhone. Farkle: Actually, I have an Android. Zay: Even worse. Farkle: That’s not -- anyway. [ eyeing the bag ] Did you go shopping, or? Zay: No. This is why I’m here. Maya said you left these in your frantic dipping from France, and for some ungodly reason, she couldn’t just give them to you herself. Something about “I have career matters to attend to, Zayby,” something something blah blah blah.

So here they are. Zay hands over the bag, making it crystal clear neither of them should get used to him playing errand boy. Farkle thanks him, peeking into the bag to look at the contents and confirming they’re as Maya described.

Once that’s out of the way, it’s back to just the two of them standing around not sure what to say. Because every conversation they’ve had lately has been heated, or heavy, or grappling with these larger, grander young adult emotions that they aren’t sure how to handle just yet. That they aren’t sure how they keep having to handle together, why they seem drawn to one another’s melodrama like magnets.

Yet, again, here they are. Zay clears his throat.

Zay: So, you going back to LA? Farkle: Uh, yeah. I’m leaving tomorrow. Zay: Right. Well, good luck with all that. Farkle: Thanks. And you? Did you decide about Turner, or the tour? Zay: I did. Farkle: … and do I get to know what that is? Zay: Once the relevant parties know, then everyone else will get to know. That’s the way I’m playing it. Sorry. No advanced previews for the people. Farkle: Boy, you love the drama of suspense. [ off his pithy shrug ] I’m assuming Charlie got to know, though. Zay: He ain’t people.

Fair enough. Farkle doesn’t even bother to question it -- he knows the history, way more than Zay thinks he does, and even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t seem confusing to him. Charlie’s got that way about him, for one, but also it’s always been clear the two of them have something special. Friendship or more. There’s just something different about them.

That’s what Farkle thinks he wants -- what he’s been searching for this whole time. He wants that sort of feeling where it goes without saying that you’ll share everything; that you’re inherently, automatically set apart from the rest.

Clearly, that’s not in his cards. So he swallows his jealousy and moves on.

Anyway, Zay commends Farkle for heading back to LA. Given all the history there now, he can imagine it feels like a mixed bag. Farkle nods, compelled to make a confession.

Farkle: I thought about moving back here, actually. Zay: Oh. Wow. [ a beat ] Why? Farkle: That chilling a possibility? Zay: No. It just -- you know, shitty ex aside, it seems like you’ve got good things going out there. I suppose you’ll hear from that agent soon, and you already made a splash in the theater scene at USC in your freshman year. That’s not something to spit on. Farkle: Yeah… yeah, that’s true. Zay: So it’s not like I don’t think you could do the same here, eventually, but when the dominos seem to have aligned so well out there… Farkle: That’s true. You’re right. I’m not saying you aren’t. I guess… just, with the other stuff…

The Jordan of it all, and the bits Zay doesn’t know. The potential of Isa; the warm familiarity of this town and its colorful cast of characters.

Farkle: Lame, maybe, but I kind of thought being back here with the cohort would be the same as before. More… stable. I don’t know.

Zay gets it. Honestly, he does. Not just because he’s human, and the allure of going back to what you know is one of the oldest, most base desires in the book, but because he knows the impact a toxic relationship can have. How it leaves you hollow, sends you searching for ways to bring back that feeling of purpose and joy again. He may not have all the context to Farkle’s current headspace, but he has that much.

Zay: Hey, I mean, I don’t think you’re making the wrong decision. Going back. Farkle: No? Zay: Nah. For one, yeah, the idea of getting to spiritually go back to Adams is nice, but it’s not that simple. I don’t know who you’re counting in your “cohort,” but most of us aren’t even going to be here in the coming weeks, months, etc. Lucas is dipping -- and Riley is going with him, apparently. Farkle: Right… Zay: Nigel might be jumping across the pond if he can hack it. Yindra and Jade and Maya -- I assume -- are going back to the west coast. Farke: And you’ll be…? Zay: Nice try. My point is, I get where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But it’s never gonna be that again. Triple A… it was good, when we had it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But it’s done now. We’ve gotta get used to working with… whatever version of our cohort we’ve got now. It wouldn’t be as easy as just hopping a flight back home.

That’s the trick about homesickness. Usually, it’s nostalgia in disguise, and unlike a house, you can’t walk back through the doors of the past. You can hold onto it, cherish the memories, try to nurture what you took with you into the present, but that’s all you can do. You can’t go back, whether you want to or not.

And that feels even more potent when you’re healing from something like Jordan. Zay understands that -- he understands better than Farkle can probably imagine.

Zay: I know how shitty it feels to have the sense that you wasted an entire year of your life. That you lost that time to someone who didn’t deserve it. It sucks. But you didn’t waste that time. And even if you did, so what? You’ve got so much more time ahead to make up for it. Dude, we’re literally at the start of everything. Just because you flubbed your first steps doesn’t mean you’re down for good.

He’s a prime example. He fucked up his start at Adams, and he turned out okay. He has amazing friends. They ended up with Riley. He had the chance to meet the love of his life, and then had the chance to find him again when things fell apart the first time. Life is just a series of starts, over and over again, and the only thing that changes that reality is when you choose not to get back up.

Zay: In short, saccharine aside, you’ll be fine, man. I believe in you.

Somehow, that means everything. It wasn’t easy to earn Zay’s friendship -- and boy, did Farkle flub it too many times to count -- but they’re here now. Somehow stuck together, melodramatic magnets… and somehow, that’s not the worst thing in the world. In fact, Zay might even say he’s glad about it.

Farkle pushes his luck, as per usual, stepping forward to pull Zay into a hug. Zay is startled at first, not used to such blatant affection between them, but after a moment he returns it.

Farkle: Thank you. For believing in me. Zay: You’re welcome. [ a beat ] Don’t make me regret it.

Farkle laughs, sniffling to keep the tears at bay. But he holds on as long as Zay will let him, soaking up his support while it’s tangible in his arms.

He knows when the time comes to head back across the country, he’s going to need it.

INT. NYU - ADVISOR’S OFFICE - DAY

Nigel is wrapping up a meeting with his guidance counselor. He’s finally told them about his intentions to transfer, and thankfully, the counselor is more than willing to help. They’ve outlined all of the steps he’ll need to take in the next semester to hopefully achieve a successful spring change, should all go well, and offered resources for him to dig into during the summer to prepare.

Nigel smiles, offering sincere thanks.

EXT. NYU - CAMPUS - DAY

Nigel emerges from the admissions building, feeling a little lighter. It’s not a salve for everything -- his puzzles and problems to solve are still numerous -- but it’s a start. He’s got the tools now to go for his ambitions, so long as he can rally the courage to follow through.

More than that, he actually stood up and did it. He went and got what he needed, wasn’t afraid to ask for it. Didn’t wait for the perfect moment, or the least amount of friction; didn’t hold himself back until his girlfriend gave him permission or his parents pushed him out the door. He didn’t even need his diva-like friends to nudge him -- or rather, shove him, typically -- into following his own dreams. This time, he did it for himself.

Nigel cares about the unknowns still at play, but he cares about his future too. After such a difficult year, he cares, and that feels like the greatest triumph there is.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ ��Golden” as performed by Hippo Campus || Performed by Nigel Chey

Nigel’s solo is pensive, thoughtful, a calm contrast to much of the other performances going on this episode. It’s still in his style, alternative and a little bit unpolished, but there’s a peace to it that he hasn’t really gotten to experience yet.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

As he traverses through the city, making his way back home, it feels like he’s seeing the city in a new light -- less constricting, not looming over him and threatening to topple.

He’s seeing himself differently, too. That’s a recurrent element to the rendition, as he catches his reflection in fountains and glossy shop windows. It doesn’t feel so difficult to look at himself anymore -- it’s starting to feel like he’s actually looking at himself again, whoever that may end up being. For once, the prospect of meeting the new him doesn’t feel so dreadful.

Why is it I want to change for you? Why is it I want to see this through?

More tellingly, although the lyrics to the song could easily be interpreted as sent towards a lover, when Nigel sings it this time, it doesn’t read that way. This isn’t a serenade to Jade, or some theoretical outsider looking in.

When Nigel sings about wanting to see things through, wanting to stop sleepwalking through life with hollowed out feelings, he’s dedicating it to himself.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Riley is grabbing a late afternoon lunch with Josh before he heads back to Los Angeles, the two of them occupying the back corner booth of the diner. With that privacy, and given Lucas isn’t working a shift, Riley feels confident enough to tell Josh about her grand plans to move to California. She might be closer to her uncle before too long.

Josh doesn’t have the same panicked reaction as Farkle, but he’s not as unwaveringly supportive as Eric. Not that he doesn’t trust her instincts -- if she thinks this is what she wants, then okay, he’ll back her -- but it’s the rest of the world he doesn’t trust. She can control herself, yes, but she can’t control other people.

Riley: You don’t trust Lucas. Josh: That’s not what I said. I have no issue with him. When I met him at the wedding, he seemed cool. Kinda weird, but like, that’s all of your friends.

Touché. Riley shrugs, not denying that.

Josh: And I know he likes you. It doesn’t take a lot of observation to pick that up. I’m just saying that with a big choice like this -- and this goes for anything like this -- you need to look out for yourself. Like, have you talked about this with him? Riley: Not yet, but we’re going to. We’re meeting this weekend. Josh: Okay, then, prepare for the fact that he’ll be caught off-guard. He might not react the way you expect him to, at least at first. And because you don’t know how that might go, optimistic as you may be, take measures to protect yourself. I get that you’re not gungho about NYU, but maybe don’t signal to them you’re ghosting until you’re absolutely positive you’re going to California. Like, not just in your soul, but logistically. In concrete, tangible plans. Follow your heart, but don’t shoot yourself in the foot to do it.

Josh wants Riley to do whatever she believes she should do, he just wants her to take care of herself when doing it. It’s fair advice, coming from her thoughtful uncle who may just be a little bit older and wiser than the rest of them.

Admittedly, Riley was getting a bit caught up in the whirlwind excitement of the whole thing. She acknowledges his guidance, agreeing she won’t make any major shifts until she and Lucas are on the same page. Josh can breathe a little easier.

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S BEDROOM - DAY

Lucas, on the other hand, is currently on the phone with Dylan and Asher. He explains to them that given Kenneth’s passing, he and Charlie agreed it would make sense for him to move back in with Grace to help her with the apartment as much as he can before his move in a couple months. Not to mention it’ll keep her from being so alone, whether she’d ever admit to feeling that way or not.

Speaking of that move, though… it’s really actually happening! Can you believe it? Although we can’t hear their end of the conversation, based on the way Lucas smiles, it’s clear that Dylan and Asher are being especially cheerleader about this. They’re excited for him, and they hope he’s excited too.

Lucas: Yeah. Yeah, I am. [ a beat ] Did you all see the link I sent to the program website?

He settles onto his stripped mattress as they respond, pulling his chunky laptop towards him where that webpage is still up. Even just looking at it makes Lucas smile, although it still feels surreal. He’s going somewhere. He’s actually doing this.

The only con, Dylan thinks, is that he has to face it alone. Lucas scoffs at first.

Lucas: As if I’ve ever had a problem going it alone?

Maybe once upon a time, but Lucas has softened since then, they argue. They know he’ll be fine, and it’ll be great, but it’s just a little sad he can’t bring any of them with him. Part of growing up and branching out, or whatever…

Well, maybe not quite. Dylan’s innocent commentary sends an unsettling shiver through Lucas as he remembers the fact that he may not be so alone after all. If Riley’s plans come to fruition, she’ll be dropping all of her various goings on here to trek across the country with him.

Lucas still isn’t sure how he feels about that concept -- which is even more confusing, since he figures it should be simple. He should be happy. He loves Riley, so it should be thrilling. It should be easy.

Lucas: What? Sorry. No, yeah, I’m still here. 

But not for long. And unless he gets his mind together, Riley may not be either.

EXT. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - CAMPUS - DAY

Meanwhile, a stone’s throw away from Barnard where Riley once had her eye and just a stretch from Adams, Columbia University sits nestled in the heart of the upper west side. A beautiful, picturesque campus somehow interwoven into the concrete jungle, feeling just as classic Northeastern collegiate as its Ivy siblings and boasting the academic credentials to match.

This is where we find Charlie, standing by the fountain on the main thoroughfare through the center of campus. Looking around at it all, soaking up the view, breathing in the essence of what the (at least) next four years of his life are going to be like.

Yes, Charlie is attending Columbia University, starting in the fall. Based on the effortless smile on his face, he feels pretty good about that decision.

Zay, off-screen: Literally, how did they even fit this in here? It’s like they dropped a stuffy Harvard anvil on Harlem’s toe.

Charlie’s smile widens as he shakes his head, spinning around to face Zay. He’s brought him along to show him the campus, sharing where he’ll be spending the foreseeable future while Zay is going to be wherever he is in the meantime.

Zay doesn’t seem all that wowed, but that’s not surprising given his disdain for school. Honestly, it’s difficult to tell how much of his aloofness is genuine versus just playing it up for the bit.

Charlie: Columbia has been here for a long time. Way before Chubbies, and Adams, at least. Zay: Now you’re just lying. Chubbies is a historic landmark. It was circa the same era as the Egyptian pyramids. Don’t disrespect. Charlie: And isn’t this exactly the sort of place you’d expect someone like me to end up? Great place to foster Acute Nerd Disorder, don’t you think? Zay: You said it, not me…

Charlie feels compelled to defend his decision, enthusiastically launching into all of the positives about the school. The history, the commitment to academic rigor. The fact that he doesn’t have to leave the city; that it has so many different areas of study all with glowing recommendations.

Charlie: One reason I chose it is because it has a respected dance program, if I decide to go that route. But all of its departments are strong, which is something I wanted, since I don’t know what I want to do yet. History, English, education -- Zay: What did you sign up for as your starting major again? Charlie: English with a concentration in classic lit and a double minor in history and dance. Zay: Figures. Charlie: But that’s just to get my foot in the door. You know, give myself time to figure out what exactly I want to pursue. And with the options here -- I mean, you saw the course catalogue! Being here, I think I can really --

Yeah, this is nice promotional fodder and everything, but it all means nothing to Zay. There’s really only one thing he cares about, the only criteria that matters to him as to whether Charlie should spend another second of his life on it. He gently interrupts his rambling.

Zay: Are you happy?

The question is effective, bringing Charlie to a halt. He pauses for a moment, really thinking about it…

Then the smile is back. Bright, beautiful, breathtakingly real.

Charlie: Yeah. Yeah, I am.

Zay mirrors it. It’s so good to see that smile -- to know it’s genuine. That’s all that matters to him.

Zay: Then it’s good.

High expectations and Ivy pride be damned. Charlie’s grin brightens, absorbing the blessing for all its worth.

Anyway, Zay better get used to spending time in nerdom. Charlie closes the distance between them and comes to join him, taking his hands and reminding him that he’ll probably be getting decently familiar with this campus too in the coming years. That is, if he intends to visit him at all.

Which he will. Because we finally getting one piece of confirmation surrounding the mystery of Zay and Charlie, even if Zay’s exact status remains elusive…

They’re not splitting up. No matter what Zay intends to do. No breakups on the horizon for them, not if they can help it.

Distance or no distance, Zay and Charlie are staying together.

So yeah, Acute Nerd Disorder exposure is part of the package. Zay rolls his eyes, but steals a kiss immediately after, so he’s clearly not that put off about it. If it’s Charlie, then it’s worth it.

Academia doesn’t resume torture for another couple months, though, and as cute as this little prison tour is, Zay has some better ideas about how they could be spending their afternoon. Sure, they could continue to trudge around campus and see all the academic sights… or they could hop the train back to Charlie’s and engage in more troublesome fun. Doesn’t that sound way more appealing?

He initiates another kiss, this one slower and more suggestive, and Charlie smiles against his lips just because he’s so darn transparent.

Zay: So? What do you want to do?

Ain’t that always the question? At least Charlie feels empowered to decide these days. He contemplates for a moment, letting his gaze flit down to Zay’s lips. As if he’s seriously considering giving in…

But then he smirks, Catholic demon as ever, and pulls away. Slipping from Zay’s grasp, walking backwards and challenging him to follow. Because it’s the two of them, and it’s more fun to draw things out -- and it’s never as simple as Zay wants it to be.

This time, though, the cosmic teasing is in their control. They make the rules now. So when Zay sighs, he’s not actually mad, and the smile still on his face gives him away.

What does Charlie want to do? Well… as the upbeat, iconic pop instrumental kicks in…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Cut To The Feeling” as performed by Carly Rae Jepsen || Performed by Charlie Gardner & Zay Babineaux

If you can believe it, it’s actually been a full two seasons since we had an authentic, full-blown dance duet between Zay and Charlie. The last time was “Rewrite the Stars,” poetically, and that pas de deux was far more tragic than this return to form.

With this performance, the two of them did manage to defy expectations and chart their own destiny, so they’re free to be what they are. Enthusiastic, enlivened, full of energy and passion and fully enamored with one another. It’s a duet that is undeniably, unequivocally earned, and it feels all the more powerful because of that.

Charlie takes the opening verse, taunting Zay to follow his lead, which pulls them into a continued tour of the Columbia campus. But the focus is less on the school now, and more on them. Instead of making the jaunt about the university, it acts more as a backdrop for their choreographed back-and-forth. A shifting and changing set piece to their production, rather than the star.

Which makes sense -- when it’s Zay and Charlie, when the two of them really get to dance together, there’s no competition.

The playful nature persists throughout, a refreshing change of pace given their history. It feels more true to them, a promising representation of what their dynamic is allowed to be when both of them are at their best -- when they’re allowed to be themselves. Both of them -- especially Zay -- try more than once to steal a kiss, but the other swerves at the last second, nudging the teasing along just a bit longer. And as expert and sharp as their choreography is, there’s a looseness to it as well. The ease and fluid motion that comes from natural chemistry, totally uninhibited trust.

The most direct callback to the rendition’s spiritual predecessor happens at the bridge, when Zay and Charlie come together close again. Zay spins Charlie towards him and they bring each other close, foreheads pressed together as they move. A mirror image to how they were during the bridge of “Rewrite the Stars,” when the two of them were at odds and seconds away from falling apart.

The duets are equally emotional, but this time, it’s unbridled joy rather than despair. This time, they’re on the same page, walking in the same direction, and they’re no longer asking the universe for permission.

Take me to emotion, I want to go all the way Show me devotion and take me all the way

It’s not impossible. They proved it. Now, all that matters is what they want.

Charlie takes the belt at the end of the bridge, pulling back but keeping their hands locked together as he pulls Zay off again --

EXT. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - ROOFTOP - DAY

And they arrive on the roof of one of the campus buildings, just as the song implies, to finish out the final chorus. The sunset and horizon of their city behind them, choreography as strong as ever and smiles almost damningly radiant.

As the song comes to an end, and Charlie exhales the final repetition of the chorus, Zay finally wins. He spins Charlie back towards him and this time, he doesn’t slip away, rewarding Zay with a passionate, blissful kiss.

Exactly where the two of them belong. Amen.

Imani, pre-lap: So Zay isn’t going to do this tour?

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Yindra is currently cooking dinner with her grandma, IMANI (70s), the one who hosts her when she’s home in the city. She’s short and stocky, stern and no-nonsense, but so full of love for her kin and community it cuts through even when she’s trying to be her most intimidating. Yindra is about half a foot taller than her, but you can see the resemblance, particularly in how both women carry themselves.

Another thing they have in common is being nosy, so yeah, Imani also wants the Zay tea. But just like everyone else, Yindra doesn’t have anything to give her.

Yindra: I don’t know. He hasn’t told us anything. Imani: Well, if he’s snuggling up to this white boy like you describe, then you’d think he’s made up his mind. Yindra: You’d think, but no. Zay and Charlie are just… like that. It’s legit with them. [ a beat ] Also, they’re both crazy. Imani: Hmph. Seems to run through that school of yours. Yindra: Tell me about it. But you’d like Charlie. He’s a good Christian fella -- a real one.

That does seem to actually win Imani over a bit. Yindra is distracted from chopping onion when her phone buzzes on the countertop.

Another update.

“This email is to inform you that ⅖ spots have officially been accepted in the group. Our time and opportunities are limited, so please respond with your decision as soon as possible.”

The clock keeps ticking down. She’s running out of time. Imani notices the distress in her features, asking what’s the matter. Nosy, yes, but protective too.

Yindra gives her the summary, explaining the opportunity and the offer on the table. Imani seems skeptical, just by nature, but Yindra does take care to give a balanced take and highlight the genuine pros of a career move like this. It is a potential game-changer, and she is excited about it. Mostly. There’s just this part of her, the distrusting, defensive part, that feels like she should be on her guard. And right now, she doesn’t have a ton of time to debate with that side.

Yindra: I just… wish there was a way to guarantee it would be worth it. That I could know I was going to get something out of it before signing my life away to this group.

Imani points out that whatever the contract is, it likely won’t be lifelong -- legally, that is. But she understands Yindra’s hesitation. In fact, if she could have it her way, Yindra wouldn’t do it.

Yindra: Wait, seriously? Do you mean that? Imani: Yes! If I could have it my way, you’d stay right here in this apartment. You wouldn’t leave it. You would be safe, and protected, and you wouldn’t ever go out and see anyone or do anything. You’d be fully defended, full-time, and then these old bones could finally get some sleep at night.

Okay, so. She’s making a point. Yindra sighs, earning a mischievous smile from Imani.

Imani: I’m not entirely joking, you know. I do feel that way, in my gut. I’m sure Darius would say the same thing if he had to tell the truth. Your mama, too, if she were here. Yindra: Yeah, well, she isn’t. Imani: No, she is not. Because she had dreams she needed to pursue. I am not saying I agree with those choices -- you know she and I have a lot to debate -- but that’s life. That’s the part about raising kids they don’t truly tell you about, the bit where you have to let them fall out of the nest. Yindra: Fall? Not… I don’t know, spread their wings and soar? Imani: You can hope, but you don’t know. Even flying starts as a leap of faith.

Point is, Imani shares Yindra’s fears and reservations. Especially for a place like Hollywood. It’s good, she thinks, that Yindra is trying to really consider the consequences of what this choice might hold. And if she could dissuade her from this dream entirely, well, she would.

Yindra: But… Imani: But, your life is yours. Not mine. And this dream you have, this talent… it is immense, Yindra. It is meant to be shared with the world. I remember the first time you took a solo at church choir, and you brought the house down with those vocal chords of yours. I turned to your papa and I said, “Dari, that little girl is going to put us all through our paces.” You were born to push the limits, to shine beyond all this. [ a beat ] If this girl power thing is the first step on that path, well, then I’ll prepare to buckle up.

But she can do it. Imani knows she can. And if Yindra hates it, or decides it isn’t for her, then she has little doubt that this little girl with the big voice can find another way forward. Nothing has managed to stop her before.

Yindra smiles, touched. She reaches forward and wraps Imani in a hug.

Yindra: I love you, Mimi.

Imani allows it for a moment, hugging her back… then she clears her throat, nudging Yindra back to work.

Imani: These vegetables aren’t going to chop themselves!

Yindra laughs, relenting and getting back to work. On the counter, her phone still lingers on that open email.

Three spots left…

INT. HART APARTMENT - NIGHT

Maya is battling similar uncertainty about the future, scratching out lyrics in her songwriting notebook in frustration. She has one chance to save her downward spiral, to resuscitate her career before it ever really got to start. She’s mad at Justin and Melissa for letting this happen, for doing this to her; she’s mad at herself for letting it happen.

She’s mad at herself for doubting, even for a moment and even now, that this is what she’s born to do.

Katy comes to join her, bringing a cup of warm tea. She figured Maya might need it, since she’s clearly been working hard since she got home.

While she has her, Maya takes the opportunity to ask for Katy’s advice. She avoids any of the nitty-gritty details of her current career status -- if the idea of telling anyone what happened at the retreat is hard, having to confess to her mom is downright unfathomable -- but focuses instead on her current predicament. If she had one shot to put herself out there, to make a song that would be her Hail Mary, what would she do? How would she approach it?

Maya: Because right now, all I’m ending up with is a lot of scathing lines and a deep derision towards any variation of the word “haute.”

Katy laughs, then contemplates the question. She surely agrees Maya doesn’t need to do another “O.M.G.,” as she’s proven she’s an ace at that. She could pull off diva in her sleep. And that’s not guaranteed to make any waves -- she already rode that with her breakout drop.

Instead, Katy comes back to her tried and true advice, the sentiments she’s been teaching her daughter the entire time. Share some authentic. Something true. The same basis for why she thinks the best emotions come through when you’re sharing it as a duet.

Katy: This is your chance to leave an impact, right? So let them see something real. I know that badass, hard-working star is who you are, but there’s so much more than that in this heart of yours. [ tapping her chest ] Let people hear that. If you speak from that, baby, I promise, people will listen. With a voice like yours, it’s impossible not to.

With that, she’ll let her get back to the craft. Maya thanks her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before she departs. Once she’s alone again, Maya lets that guidance sink in, trying to decide what to do with it.

Lord knows she has plenty of emotion roiling through her right now. But no way is she writing about the Hollywood drama -- both out of self-preservation and out of pride. She doesn’t want to write a love song; those may sell, but that’s not true to her. That’s not real Maya Hart. It won’t ring true, not when it counts.

So what exactly is she meant to do?

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Yindra is waiting outside Nigel’s building the next morning, impatiently waiting. She taps her feet and dances in place, seemingly possessed by an anxious energy she can’t shake off these days.

She gets another notification on her phone, and though it sends dread through her, this time it’s just a text. From Jade:

“Thanks again for this. I’ll text when we’re good to go”

No other context, and Yindra doesn’t get the chance to respond to offer any to us. Because like a sneak attack, another email comes through right after.

“This email is to inform you that ⅗ spots have officially been accepted in the group. Our time and opportunities are limited, so please respond with your decision as soon as possible.”

They’re going faster and faster now. Yindra opens her message thread with Aleena, thinking about seeing if she’s one of those three or a remaining holdout, but Nigel pushes out of his building and comes to greet her before she can do anything. She quickly pockets her phone.

Nigel: Hey. Sorry I took a couple minutes longer than expected -- everything cool? Yindra: What? Oh, yeah, no. Just another reminder that my entire future is on the line and ticking away by the second, but all g. I’m aces. Nigel: Yikes. Do you want to talk about it? Yindra: Genuinely? No. Right now, I just want to spend a lovely, chill afternoon hanging out with my lovely, chill bestie before I go back to the sunshine city from hell.

She throws an arm around Nigel’s shoulders. Then she glances up at the sky, eyeing the clouds rolling in.

Yindra: Whatever we do, though, better be strategic. Those clouds do not look promising. [ meeting his eyes ] Maybe we should grab an umbrella.

EXT. SOHO PARK - DAY

This time, it’s just Zachary accompanying Isa on their latest lore stop. Today, they’re in a park we’ve never seen before, something from further back in Isa’s childhood. They’re currently sitting on a bench at a picnic table, looking around at the park. Across the way, a couple of families are playing with their toddler-aged children.

Zachary: It’s a nice spot. Bit of a hidden gem, I’d say. Isa: Valerie used to bring me here. During that brief window of time where she thought she’d be a parent for real -- the first time. I was like, six? [ nodding towards the buildings ] She rented out the penthouse in that building and acted like it was going to be the real deal. She was going to blow this mothering thing out of the water. [ a beat ] Only being a mom isn’t a role you can play. It’s a full-time job.

And, evidently, Valerie wasn’t cut out for that kind of work. Zachary frowns, sympathetic, but doesn’t try to make it better. He’s not really about empty platitudes. It’s one thing Isa likes about him.

Isa: I was back in the system by the next year. But during that time, I’d come here a lot, with or without her. Was just… I don’t know, nice. A good place to think. Be in my own head. [ a beat ] I’ve only ever brought one other person here before. Lucas. I think we were freshmen, and he’d just gotten in trouble at Adams and into this huge argument with Jack for trying to discipline him. It wasn’t pretty. He needed to get out, to blow off steam, so I thought about this. We ditched last period and I brought him here.

And that was that. Other than that, she’s kept her distance, kept it sacred… until now.

Zachary: I can see why you’d want to protect it. Isa: [ blurting it out ] This terrifies me, you know. What we’re doing. Like, I’m happy about it -- so fucking happy, believe me. I can’t believe it’s worked out how it has, in spite of the hiccups. Most of which, classically, were my fault. Zachary: I’m happy about it too. Isa: But it’s scary. It’s so fucking scary. Because like… now you, and Ruby, and the kids… you’re like, in it. You’re in my life. You’re seeing all these parts, and pieces, and becoming a part of it too. [ swallowing ] And that means you can leave. You can take it all away just as easily as you came. And I’ve had a lot of that in my life already, and it’s just… so not worth the possibility. Usually, it isn’t. I’m seriously not good about people leaving me behind.

Given the history, it’s not hard for Zachary to imagine why. Isa takes a deep breath, reining the emotion back in. They can do this. They can have this conversation.

Isa: I’m getting better about it. You know, with time. And therapy -- therapy is good. But it’s still… it’s not easy. And I’m not gonna be perfect about it. I know you aren’t either. I just wanted you to know… all of that. Why I’m kind of a mess. There’s a lot of reasons, honestly, but like… when Val was coming back into my life, I thought I’d get better. I thought I’d get over it. Then she left again, forever, and now it’s like…

That fear is so real. How fast people can disappear -- no matter how much you love them. Zachary nods, allowing Isa the space to express it.

After a quiet moment, he speaks.

Zachary: I understand. I don’t think that fear is strange or messy at all. Especially with what you’ve been through -- something I contributed to.

Isa exhales, swiping at their eyes.

Zachary: And to be honest with you, I can’t make any promises that I will always be around. Not because I don’t want to be, but because neither of us knows what the future holds. There is a lot about life that I can’t control, and neither can you. Some of the hardest parts of life to me are just… accepting that. Embracing the things you cannot change, letting go of the need to have it all exactly how you want it. I know it’s not easy, trust me.

No kidding. Isa nods, meeting his eyes.

Zachary: But I promise you, for what I can control, I will always keep you in mind. I will always want you to be in my life. I’ve already missed nineteen years of it, and now that we’ve got it somewhat figured out, I don’t intend to miss much more. Whatever you want to share with me, whatever is in your control to share, I will take it. I can give you that much.

And he will, happily. They’re family now, even if they’re still figuring out what exactly that means.

Zachary: It took me long enough to learn about your existence, let alone know it. Now that I know you, Isa, I certainly don’t intend to let you go. Not if I can help it.

That reassurance is all Isa wanted to hear. They manage a smile, watery as it is. Zachary reaches out and affectionately ruffles their hair, a gesture so awkward dad and yet so perfect for the moment that Isa can’t help but laugh in spite of the heaviness.

It’s progress. They’re on their way.

And from what they can control, they think they’ll be okay.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Nigel and Yindra have made it back safe and sound before the downpour, the latter shaking out their shared umbrella as they head down the hall towards the Chey apartment.

Nigel: You know, you really didn’t have to walk me home. Or all the way to my door. I have walked home many a time before. Yindra: Um, babe, yes I did. You’re a flight risk these days, didn’t you know? I take my eye off you too long, before I know it, you’ll have split and disappeared into some Shakespearean cult in the wilderness of Maine. [ shaking the umbrella pointedly ] You know they’ve got killer clowns up there, right?

Okay, now she’s being weird. Nigel cuts her a look, accenting her bizarre behavior, but no point in arguing with her now that they’re at his doorstep.

In a second, it’s all about to make sense anyway. Yindra bites her lip to hold back a smile --

INT. CHEY APARTMENT - DAY

As they walk right into a surprise waiting for them, Nigel’s entire family accosting him with a greeting the moment he steps back through the door.

All: Surprise!

Nigel is certainly effectively surprised -- and a little panic-stricken. He just about jumps out of his skin and has to take a second to come back to Earth, placing his hand on his chest to calm his heart. Yindra is almost giddy with glee behind him, both thrilled and amused by his reaction.

Once he manages to keep himself from having a heart attack, Nigel gets a better look at what exactly he’s walked into. His whole family is there -- yes, including LEONA CHEY, without any grumpiness to be seen -- as well as Zay and Riley. They’ve basically thrown together a little party, a clearly Riley-made banner strung along the ceiling that reads “London Bound!” and a traditional Filipino cake on the table in the kitchen his mother clearly baked for the occasion.

Then there’s Jade. In the middle of it all, that creative twinkle in her eye, smiling right at him with absolutely no hint of upset.

It’s kind of hard to wrap his head around. Nigel blinks, resisting the urge to rub his eyes.

Nigel: What is all this? Reyna: Word may have finally trickled down to us that you officially talked to your counselor about the transfer. Leona: No thanks to you. Were you just not going to tell us? Liezel: But we were planning this before that. Jade called us, when you were abroad, to plan the whole thing out. Once you told her, she couldn’t wait.

Oh? Nigel lets his gaze drift back to Jade, who steps forward to meet him in the middle.

Nigel: You’re not mad at me? Jade: [ with a shake of her head ] Mm-mm. Nigel: But you were. You definitely were. Jade: Mm… not mad. Surprised, yes. Caught off-guard, yes. You could’ve gone about telling me better. Nigel: No delusions about that, believe me. Jade: But after I thought about it for longer than a split-second reaction… no. Of course not. This makes total sense. And if it feels right to you, following your passion, then it has to be good. Who am I to stand in the way of that?

So no, they’re fine. They’re going to be fine. Nigel exhales, relieved, and pulls her into a hug. She returns it, tightly, happy to be back in his embrace.

Then he realizes something, pulling back and giving her a look. She keeps her arms around his neck.

Nigel: So you weren’t icing me out this whole time, you were just holding me in suspense? For the hell of it? Jade: Think of it as payback. Besides, it felt appropriate -- I know you like a little bit of Shakespearean drama.

Oh, she is so… and he is so, so lucky. He can’t help but smile, shaking his head and stealing a quick kiss.

Leona: Ew.

But the party wasn’t the only trick she had up her sleeve. The group of them have been conspiring, and their results are something his parents are obviously eager to share with him. Jade takes his hand and guides him over to join them.

Ernesto: We know that even if you do this, if you manage to get accepted -- Zay/Riley: He will. Yindra: Hell yeah. Ernesto: Then it’s not going to be a cake walk. There will be financial matters to figure out. Hopefully, scholarships will do a lot of that for us. Yindra: Hell yeah. Liezel: But just in case -- we’ve pulled together a little something. As a team effort. We -- Reyna: Jusko, Liezel, just give it to him already! I’ll drop dead before you do at this rate!

All of them erupt into laughter, LIEZEL CHEY relenting. She reaches behind her near the cake and retrieves an envelope, holding it out for Nigel to take. He does, uncertain, eyeing the group of them before unsealing it and discovering what’s inside.

It’s a balance ledger from their bank, congratulating him on the opening of his brand new savings account. A different one than the one he’s had with his parents as co-signers since he was thirteen; one with more money than he’s ever actually had on his own pocket.

The starting balance is well over a couple thousand dollars. He stares at it, mouth dropping open.

Nigel: What -- what is this? [ to his parents ] This isn’t yours, is it? You need --

Liezel shakes her head, smile bright, while Ernesto pulls her close into a side hug.

Ernesto: It’s yours. We may have done a bit of last-minute community fundraising in the past week or so -- Reyna: All Jade’s idea. And with help from a genius like Riley -- instant success! Riley: I may have plugged some of my connections in the campaign world and tossed a word to my mom’s rich law friends. Zay: I passed word around Turner. Yindra: I did nothing because I have no money and no friends with money, but I provided moral support. Liezel: And we reached out to everyone we knew. Ernesto: They all know how much this means to you, how much you love doing this. When we told them your dream, they did not hesitate.

It certainly won’t cover everything, not even close. But it’s something. It’s a bit of cover, a safety net for a rainy day when he ends up thousands of miles away on his own.

And still more than that, too. Nigel turns his gaze back to Jade, welling up. She smiles, also a little choked up at his reaction.

Jade: I wanted you to see how many people believe in you. How many of us know this is what you’re meant to do. That there are so many people who will do everything they can to help you get there. Every step of the way. 

Nigel exhales, stepping forward again and pulling her into an even tighter hug. She returns it just as enthusiastically.

Nigel: I love you. Holy shit. Liezel: Nigel. Jade: [ with laughter ] I love you too.

Reyna swipes a tear from her eye, so very happy to see how far Nigel has come. Riley hugs Zay close, Yindra dogpiling on their embrace and throwing her arm around both of their shoulders.

When Jade and Nigel pull apart, he directs that gratitude all around.

Nigel: I love all of you. Seriously. Thank you. [ voice cracking ] Thank you for being my family.

There’s nothing else he’d rather be. Liezel starts to cry, meeting him in the middle for a hug that Ernesto joins. Before long, it’s a full-on group hug, everyone crowding around Nigel and wrapping him in a warm embrace. Even Leona, who Reyna pulls into the pile with only a little adolescent reluctance.

Love, all the way around and all the way through.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Love isn’t always as gentle as a summer breeze, though. Sometimes, it’s a hurricane, torrential and unpredictable -- and it can leave you with battle scars.

The rain is certainly threatening torrential now, falling in sheets off the side of the building and creating a symphony of splatters on the sidewalk. Even so, Isa waits, just barely sheltered under the extended edifice of the building over the driveway. They’re sitting on the steps outside the revolving doors, teeth chattering from the wind and arms crossed tight around their knees. It’s not clear how long they’ve been out there.

But what is clear is that they’re not going anywhere. Not until they get the chance to see him again, to say their piece. They’re not going to throw away their one shot to make this right.

Thankfully, they don’t have to wait much longer, but that’s about where the good news ends. Farkle steps outside with his suitcase, scanning for the Minkus car and spotting Isa on the steps instead. For a moment, he just stares, seemingly unable to comprehend that they’re actually there.

Then the driver comes dashing out from the car to take his bag, and it blows his cover. Isa catches the movement, then realizes where the chauffeur is heading, whipping to look over their shoulder and seeing Farkle standing there like a deer in headlights. They scramble to their feet just as the driver takes his bag, stumbling up the steps to reach his level.

Farkle starts to follow the driver down as if they’re not there, like he didn’t see them, but Isa isn’t going to play those games. Not today. Not when it matters this much.

Isa: Farkle. Farkle, wait!

He does, as if bewitched by their voice. He freezes in his retreat, screwing his eyes shut and making a point of staying faced away. He doesn’t trust himself if he looks them in the eye; he doesn’t know what he might say, or what might come spilling out of him that he can’t control.

They have to speak up, more so than usual, because the rain is making an uproar of its own. 

Isa: Are you leaving already? Farkle: Yes. The jet leaves JFK in an hour. [ swallowing his emotion ] So if you’ll excuse me -- Isa: No, don’t --

Isa steps forward, closing some of the safe distance between them as Farkle goes still again. God, why is it so hard to walk away from them?

Isa doesn’t waste the brief opportunity. They take a deep breath, willing the words to come out when they need it to most. When it matters, right now, in spite of the rain and the chill and the way they’re trembling for reasons other than the weather.

Isa: You have to know I didn’t mean it. The stuff I said at the wedding.

Farkle winces, twisting his mouth into a line. When he responds, his voice comes out shaky.

Farkle: I don’t know what you mean these days. Been getting a lot of mixed signals. When I get any at all. Isa: I know. I know, and I’m sorry about that. All right? I haven’t been -- I don’t know how to handle this shit. I barely know how to handle any shit, but I’m working on it. This, though… I’m making it up as I go. And I know that sucks, and it isn’t fair, especially because this is the one thing that… [ come on, speak ] That actually matters. This is when it all really matters.

Sure sounds like saying just the right thing… and yet, somehow, that almost hurts more. Because how many times has Isa said something that totally knocked Farkle over, that took his breath away, only for it to be ripped away before too long?

Isa: But you have to know that what happened at the wedding wasn’t how I feel. I know you know that. Farkle: I don’t think you can speak for me. Isa: Farkle, come on. It was just… there was so much going on, and it had been an… insane day. I was so overwhelmed, and it just… I just shut down. But that doesn’t mean that’s what I felt. You have to be fair to me, too. Farkle: [ with a scoff ] Fair? Isa: Will you just look at me? If you do, you’ll look me in the eyes and see that I’m not -- Farkle: I can’t. [ shaking his head to himself ] I can’t. You know what that means, right?

Woof. Okay. Low blow, but perhaps earned. Isa can feel their resolve cracking, can feel that disgusting sense of shame and tears billowing up in their chest, but they force themselves to hold it together.

Isa: Farkle, please. Can we just talk about this? Farkle: I don’t think there’s anything more to say. Isa: Stop. Don’t be like that. There is, and we can work it out. We just -- if you’ll just listen -- Farkle: I can’t. I have to go. I have a plane to catch. Isa, frustrated: You’re not catching anything, you’re taking a private jet.

Regardless, Farkle seems set on his choice. He is going to walk away from them, from this, without even trying to put it back together. And that feels so damning to Isa, so unbearable a possibility, that they lunge forward without thinking and try to take his hand.

Isa: Farkle, please -- Farkle: No!

He yanks away from them, nearly stumbling down the step beneath them. Isa backs off, unprepared for the intensity of his response. He does grant their earlier wish, though, spinning around to face them but keeping a comfortable space between them. It doesn’t feel smart to get any closer -- not when emotions are running high like they are now.

Farkle: I can’t, Isa. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t handle another conversation, where we say the same old things but go nowhere. Where you tell me things I want to hear, because you know I want to hear them, but that’s all it is. Empty words. Hot air. Isa, quiet: [ with a shake of their head ] That’s not what it is. Farkle: Because I can’t -- [ voice cracking ] I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep putting my heart on the floor, like some sick, sacrificial lamb, just to watch it get crushed. Over and over and over again, by people that I am desperate to have put it on a pedestal. I can’t keep… tearing myself apart for other people, people that I -- [ unable to finish it ] only to end up like this. Feeling like this. It’s hard enough living in my own head, the way God threw it together. I can’t keep holding my breath waiting, and living for, the promise that it’s real. I’m not gonna survive it.

So no. He doesn’t want to hear what they have to say. Even though that pathetic, sensitive side of him is dying to hear them out, to let them back in, they can’t do it anymore. He’s simply not strong enough. Sorry if that’s pitiful, or makes them feel like shit, but it’s the truth. This is where they’ve ended up.

And that’s not entirely Isa’s fault -- there’s certainly a large Jordan-shaped shadow looming over all of this -- but they contributed. Even though they wish they hadn’t; even though every inch of them is begging for that to change. They want to make it better. They do.

Isa: Farkle…

But they can’t. Not this time. Farkle simply shakes his head.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Winner Takes It All” as performed by Mamma Mia! Original Movie Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus (starting at 00:30)

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Farkle launches into the ABBA and musical theater bombshell with the emotional aplomb it deserves, guaranteeing that we’re in for a juggernaut (as if Farkle Minkus is capable of delivering anything else).

I don’t want to talk about things we’ve gone through Though it’s hurting me, now it’s history

He starts off soft, still reluctant to even broach the surface of all these emotions -- of Isa -- but running out of places to turn with Isa basically forcing his hand. Kind of just like the mirror image of him at the wedding, though of course in the heat of the moment, that irony is lost on them.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - SCULPTURE GARDEN - DAY

Unfortunately, the lyrics are almost perfect for them, just with a few minor tweaks to really bring it home. We dig deeper into them as Farkle moves from a fragile first rendition of the chorus into the next verse, transitioning to the sculpture garden around the back of the towering building. It’s sheltered underneath another extension of the building, so it keeps them dry for now.

Farkle traipses through the classic and modern statues as he moves through the next few bars, using them as a shield to keep safe distance between him and Isa. Isa, who is desperately trying to keep up, but turned all around in this terrain they’re unfamiliar in. In every shot, something about the scenery separates them, keeping them abstracted from one another -- ripples in a reflecting pool; a blockish structure directly framed between them; them almost catching a glimpse of one another, but not entirely, partially hidden and blended into a similarly posed piece of artwork.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Until we get to the bridge. When it hits, we end up back where we started, Isa chasing after Farkle around the front of the building. But there’s no more running in circles; the cycle ends here. They make it all the way down the front steps, onto the sidewalk and out into the rain, before Farkle spins around and throws out his final say.

I don’t want to talk! Because it makes me feel sad And I understand -- you’ve come to shake my hand

Farkle is practically spitting the words even with his excellent pitch, caught between a wail and a snarl. So tangled up in several competing emotions -- hurt, anger, lust, confusion -- that it just might tear him to pieces. It makes for a compelling performance, undoubtedly, but hell if it doesn’t ache to watch.

Especially for Isa. They stand in the rain with him, shaking their head. At how wrong he has their intentions; at how little he views himself. At how horrifically this beautiful disaster has spun-out, tragic yet somehow grotesquely fitting for an Icarus and his Dethroned Queen.

(It also, not coincidentally, has quite a few shades of this).

But right now, in this vulnerable a state, even the most loving empathy would just feel like pity. So Farkle takes Isa’s obvious emotion for personal indignation, some of his old pride at least rearing up enough to help him prevail in this last argument. His next words are dripping with sarcasm, even as they’re just on the brink of total emotional fallout.

I apologize if it makes you feel bad Seeing me so tense, no self-confidence But you see…

Then he slams into the final chorus, belting out the titular adage as he whirls away from Isa and leaves them behind. Dashing through the rain towards his getaway car, not able to stomach one more second of the confrontation without risking total collapse.

Isa doesn’t fight him this time. They don’t chase after him. They let him go, because if he’s made anything clear enough, it’s that that is the least they could for him right now.

INT. MINKUS CAR - MOVING - DAY

Farkle slams the car door and slumps back against the seats, immediately descending into tears as soon as Isa is out of sight. He rails into the final, powerhouse notes of the performance, delivering a gut-wrench he hasn’t quite achieved since “Santa Fe.” “Dear John” was up there too, but that pain was different. That pain was righteous, liberating, a musical exorcism in the aim of something better.

This is none of that. This just hurts. Palpably, potently, through every muscle in his body.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Isa obviously feels the same, given the tears that are streaming down their face. They give up and crumple back on the steps, not sheltered from the rain, hiding their head in their hands.

EXT. AIRPORT JETWAY - DAY

As the final backing vocals carry us through to the end, Farkle exits the family car and jogs towards the jet waiting on the runway. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t second-guess. Right now, the only thing he wants to be is away.

INT. PRIVATE JET - DAY

As the backing choir winds down and the music dwindles to a simmer, Farkle tosses his backpack aside and collapses into one of the seats. He tilts his head against the window, looking out towards the rain on the runway… and then it really hits him. Slowly, then all at once.

He almost whimpers the last line, voice quickly deteriorating to the tears.

The winner takes it all…

INT. YINDRA’S ROOM - NIGHT

That evening, Yindra is surprised when she receives a text from Kimmy Price. She asks whether or not Yindra is back in Los Angeles yet, or if she’s still in New York on holiday.

Kind of a specific question, but Yindra gives her an honest answer. She texts back that she’s still in New York, and won’t be back in LA until the weekend.

Kimmy answers back surprisingly fast, and with an unexpected twist.

“oooookay that’s perfect!!! i’m actually in nyc right now too and was hoping we could meet up? maybe coffee tomorrow? let me know 😊😊”

Okay… definitely not what Yindra was expecting. What is her competitor doing in New York when she’s from Ohio, for one, but more so why would she want to meet up with her? When everything is so up in the air, and there’s absolutely nothing to gain from it?

But then, why is Yindra so suspicious about it -- does everything have to have an ulterior motive? Is this what the rest of her life is going to be, doubting every friendly face because they might slip poison in her macchiato?

She doesn’t want to live that way. If she’s going to do this, have this career, she isn’t going to become that person. Not if she has any say.

So she responds affirmatively, texting Kimmy an agreement and telling her she’ll send her the address of this place she likes. It’s pretty popular in her neck of the woods.

Kimmy reacts with a heart, which Yindra chooses against her anxiety to take at face value.

INT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - ISA’S ROOM - NIGHT

Rain still pouring outside, Isa makes it back to their room at Eric’s, drenched and exhausted. His place was the first one they thought to go to, even though he isn’t there. It’s safer here, more secure. And right now, after all that, they need solitude to work through this on their own.

They peel off their soaked jacket, their tee at least having been spared the worst of it. They know they should go shower, dry off, maybe just climb into bed and forget it all for the night. But it wouldn’t be so easy -- there’s way too much bubbling up in their chest, in their mind, desperate to be felt. Needing to be expressed. All the things they didn’t get to say, all the reassurances and explanations and simple declarations Farkle didn’t give them the chance to give.

But it has to come out some way. Sometime. Farkle wasn’t ready to hear it now, and honestly, he may not ever be. But Isa has to get it out. They have to express it.

And maybe, in the future, if there’s even a chance…

So they use their words. Isa settles down at their desk and pulls a fresh piece of paper from the drawer, grabbing their pen and starting to write. Pouring everything out into a letter -- the way they’ve learned to do for years now, one of the only therapy tricks that has done them true good. The same method Farkle used a year ago, that ended up detonating at a more opportune -- or perhaps inopportune -- time.

Isa doesn’t hold back. They don’t think they could.

INT. THRIFT STORE - DAY

Once the sun has risen again and the rain has ebbed, Riley is sifting through the racks at one of her favorite spots. Getting her New York fashion fix in before she might not get to enjoy it again for a while. And with important intention, too, as she’s trying to pick out an outfit for her conversation with Lucas.

She pulls a pretty floral dress off the rack, vintage and just a bit quirky, but totally Riley. Excitement sparks in her eyes as she flips it over, checking for any obvious red flags.

Charlie, off-screen: Oh, that looks awesome.

Riley lifts her gaze, smiling as Charlie comes over to join her. As promised, they’re sharing this shopping afternoon.

Riley: You think? Charlie: Definitely. It’s completely your style -- and I’m pretty sure you’re one of the only people on Earth that could pull this off. Zay: Speak for yourself. I’m standing right here.

Zay swings around the side of one of the pillars nearby, standing on the pedestal with the mannequins. Charlie gives him an exasperated -- but fond, always so damn fond -- look.

Charlie: This? You really think you’d look better than Riley in this. Zay: Bet. Give it to me, I’ll try it on right now. Riley: Yeah, no thanks. I don’t need you ripping it with your dancer biceps before I even get the chance to wear it.

Their loss. Zay shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning against the post. If they’re both so confident that this is the right one, though, then Riley doesn’t need much more convincing.

Riley: I’m sold. I think Lucas will like it too -- it’s one of his favorite colors. Zay: Isn’t he colorblind? Charlie: [ ignoring him ] He will for sure. But also like, you’re the one wearing it. That’s all it takes. Zay: Not that he deserves it, but…

All right, that’s enough cheek out of you, Babineaux. Charlie and Riley both shoot him a glare, so he relents, stepping down off the pedestal and coming to join them in between the racks. Although Zay has always had a knack for taking shots at Lucas, Riley is more sensitive than usual right now, so she addresses it head on.

Riley: You don’t seriously mean that, right? I mean, I know he’s not your favorite person. And I know that me moving and everything -- I get why it probably seems like a lot. But are you really that deadset against it? [ eyeing them ] Not that anything you say will have remotely any impact on my decision.

Yeah, that much they both know. Hard to change the mind of Riley Matthews when she’s determined… but her vulnerability shines through anyway.

Zay and Charlie are two of her best friends, two of the most important people in her life, and she trust their judgment. How do they really feel about it, aside from the characteristic digs?

Charlie has no issue, which he’s made clear since Riley told him. He’ll support her choice no matter what, just like she’s always done for him. Zay, on the other hand… both of them look at him pointedly, waiting for him to say his piece.

Well?

After a long moment, Zay sighs. Because no, Lucas is not his favorite person, and yes, he hates the idea of Riley moving so far away (selfishly, that is). But in truth…

Zay: No, I’m not that pressed. It’s what you want, and if makes you happy, then my opinion is pretty much irrelevant. [ a beat ] He loves you. And you love him, for some reason, so…

So no, he’s not going to get in Riley’s way. No, despite his theatricality, he trusts her judgment without hesitation. He loves her, so he’ll always want to protect her, but if this is what she’s decided is the best for her, then who is he to argue?

They both love her, and they will miss her, but it’s Riley’s future. Whatever she chooses to do, they’re behind her. Every step of the way.

Riley smiles, realizing in an instant that she’s about to be so far away from them. Just when she’s finally gotten them back, together and at peace, the way it all belongs. She finds herself tearing up.

Riley: I’m going, and all that, but God, what am I going to do without you guys?

It’s a question all of us are wondering, Riley. Charlie starts to tear up too, because naturally, and Zay shakes his head affectionately.

Zay: Y’all. I swear.

But he doesn’t want to think about it either. So instead he pulls them both into a hug, Riley leaning into it automatically and holding them both close. 

No matter what the future holds, she knows for sure she is never letting them go again.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY

As mentioned previously, in light of Kenneth’s death, the apartment is going through a bit of an overhaul while they go through his things. Trying to declutter, take some of the stuff out so that Grace isn’t left all alone with it all.

Right now, GRACE FRIAR is going through a box of photos, one that got buried somewhere in the last several years. Rather than too deep into the past, this is more close the present than it seems -- Polaroids from Lucas’s toddler years, right in that delicate time between heaven and hell. When things still felt possible, hopeful, and her love was so bright… but the shadows were always looming just around the corner. It was never quite settled; they never really had peace.

She lifts her gaze when the front door opens, tensing just slightly out of old habit. But it’s only Lucas who walks into the room, giving her a nod. He briefly steps into the kitchen to drop groceries and claims he is working on getting the last of his things from Charlie’s apartment, and apologizes for how he hasn’t been around as much as he hoped.

Grace shrugs, waving off his apologies. No need. There’s no rush, really. When he steps back into the room, she holds out one of the photos for him -- one of the two of them, two-year-old Lucas plopped in her lap, both of them looking gentle and unsure. Not quite sure they’re meant to be there, but making it work anyway.

The spitting image, truly.

Grace: Have you ever seen these?

Lucas shakes his head before he even sees the pictures. They never were big on sharing mementos around here. He takes the Polaroid, looking at it for himself.

Grace: I think Ken took that. Once we actually finally got this couch in here. Lucas: Looks like you don’t want to be there. [ a beat ] Me either.

Grace smiles, slightly amused in spite of the macabre edge to that. Maybe that’s true, but that’s the hand they were dealt.

Grace: And here we are still. [ taking it back ] You’re finally getting to go where you want to be, though.

Lest he forget the strides he’s made, and the freedom they’ve both just begun to explore. Lucas absorbs that, glancing down at the rest of the photographs in the box as Grace sifts through them.

They almost feel fake. Like staged replicas, because of how normal they look. If you flipped through those snapshots, you might be able to believe just for a second that their family was like everybody else.

Lucas: Can I ask you a question?

Grace nods. Lucas knows what he wants to ask -- needs to ask, at this point -- but he finds it hard to put into words.

Lucas: How… I mean… things with dad. [ shaking his head ] How did… Grace: I know what you’re asking.

Lucas meets her eyes, surprised. Does she? She recedes a bit, inherently growing shy, but she pushes forward regardless.

Grace: You want to know how it ended up like this. How did I ever let myself get here?

So she does know. Maybe because she’s asked it herself, numerous times, for much longer than Lucas ever contemplated it. He nods, sheepish.

Grace carefully puts the box onto the coffee table. After a long moment of quiet, she sighs.

Grace: It wasn’t always like this. [ a beat ] I know you probably find that hard to believe. But… it wasn’t. It didn’t start this way. Ken… he wasn’t always this… much. Not at the beginning.

It wasn’t all bad. Like most abusive relationships, it was hard to leave for a reason.

Grace: I loved your dad. And he loved me. Really, he did. And sometimes… it was good. [ delicately emotional ] It was really good.

But not always. Not enough. Not, ultimately, in the ways that matter most. And if you asked her to define when it changed, when the switch flipped -- if it ever actually did, rather than a long, gradual descent into a new kind of normal -- she wouldn’t be able to tell you. When you’re in it, living the day to day, it just sort of happens. Before you know it, that’s where you are.

That’s exactly what Lucas doesn’t want to hear.

Grace shrugs, shaking her head wordlessly.

Grace: So how did I end up here? I don’t know. I fell in love. Then, sometime in the last twenty years… I woke up.

And now they’re here. Survivors, in spite of it all.

Lucas frowns.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

A knock on the door startles Maya out of her meditation, one of her last-ditch efforts to evoke some musical exorcism that’ll give her the hit she needs. She frowns, getting to her feet and calling over her shoulder.

Maya: Mom? Are you expecting someone?

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - HALLWAY - DAY

It’s not for Katy. When she pulls open the door, Isa is standing on the other side. Surprised she actually opened the door, a hair sheepish, but obviously purposeful in their showing up.

After a moment of shock, though, Maya isn’t the most receptive host. She immediately starts to close the door.

Maya: I don’t have anything to say to you. Isa: Maya, wait! Please.

They hold their arm out, more than prepared to be crushed with a slam of the door. But Maya isn’t so moved by that -- they’re more taken aback by the “please,” the gentle plea from someone who is rarely gentle nor prone to beg. Neither of them are. It’s part of what made them so alike.

So against her prideful instincts, Maya doesn’t shut them out. They open the door a bit further, inviting Isa to make their case. They get one chance, so they better make it count.

Isa: I’m not here to make you like me again. I’m not here to apologize, or explain myself -- not to you. I know it wouldn’t make a difference.

Somehow, Maya seems a bit stung by that. And maybe, just maybe, a little disappointed.

Maya: Then why are you here? Isa: Because you’re the last hope I’ve got. And I’m at the point where I’m not above throwing out Hail Marys.

Okay, slightly intrigued… Isa reaches into their back pocket and retrieves a letter. Sealed with care, Farkle’s name written on the front.

Maya: You have to be kidding me. Isa: It’s all I’ve got left. I need him to know the truth. I had to say it somehow. But I know if I just send it -- if it even makes it at all, the postal service sucks ass -- he won’t open it. Not now. Maya, biting: I wonder why. Isa: You’re right. I know, you’re right, okay, and it’s beyond my good grace to ask for this. I… messed up, big time, and he doesn’t owe me this. Neither do you. Nobody owes me anything.

God, the pride of this must be killing them. Maya can imagine it, like secondhand smoke. Even so, here Isa is, doing it anyway. Because it’s that important to them; because it means that much.

Isa: But I just… I had to say my piece. So that at least I know I tried. At least there’s a chance… [ clearing their throat ] You love him. You love Farkle more than anybody on this planet. I know that. And I know you know him better than anybody.

Maya isn’t going to argue with that. She raises her eyebrows.

Isa: So from one person who cares about him to another… [ turning the letter in their fingers ] You’ll know if he’s ready to hear it. If ever. You can give it to him, whenever it’s okay, and he might actually give it a chance.

Isa meets her eyes, achingly sincere. Vulnerable with Maya, in this moment, in a way they haven’t gotten to be around each other in over a year.

Isa: So, I’m asking you. Just… take this. Whether you give it to him or not, I can’t control that. But I can at least give it every effort I can. Take every chance I have.

So… they hold out the letter, waiting for Maya to accept it. Praying that she will.

Isa: Please.

It’s a pretty impassioned pitch. Maya isn’t immune to a well delivered pitch… and truthfully, even if Isa hadn’t put their entire soul into the sell, Maya probably would’ve taken it regardless. The rift between them may be gaping and growing by the minute, but the ghost of their friendship is still there. The fondness they have for each other still lingers -- is probably always going to linger.

After a beat, Maya takes it, delicate in her manicured hands.

Isa exhales, nodding a silent thank you. Already relieved by the gesture, even if the letter never makes it to its final destination. At least they did everything they could.

Before they can make themselves scarce again, Maya offers one more remark.

Maya: He really loved you, you know.

Just in case they weren’t painfully aware. Farkle loves hard, maybe too hard, and he loved Isa with every ounce of his being. He loved them, and they fucked it up.

They know. God, does Isa know.

Isa: I know… [ shyly ] And I know you did, too.

That’s a confession that actually catches Maya off-guard. Isa’s admittance, after months of growing and time to heal, that they know Maya didn’t mean to hurt them when she left. That they both made mistakes, and mishandled the situation, which brought them where they are now. That regardless of what state they’re in now, the friendship they had before was real -- it meant something, enough to haunt both of them and wonder if it’s ever a possibility they could get it back.

Right now, that’s a no. But the future… well, none of them can know. Maya swallows.

Maya: Bye, Isa. Isa: Yeah. Bye. [ after a beat ] See you around?

Will they… after another contemplative moment, Maya clears her throat.

Maya: Guess we’ll see.

For now, it’s time to close the door. Maya does so, leaving Isa on the other side. They take a deep breath, closing their eyes and willing themselves to be okay with letting go.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

Maya exhales an equally weighted sigh, leaning back against the door. She’s not usually so affected by other people; she isn’t usually so overwhelmed by people she’s dropped from her life. Why is this so different? Why is Isa so hard to shake off?

Because it was love. They loved each other, because of and in spite of their flaws. It was real.

Now it’s gone. Whatever version of them that existed before, it’s over now. They both have to figure out how to move forward -- as individuals, and a shared concept.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Isa will try. That’s all they can do. As they take their first step onward and leave the apartment behind, and the synth-laden opening notes float in…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “You Let Me Down” as performed by Alessia Cara || Performed by Isa De La Cruz & Maya Hart

Isa starts off the emotional duet, stepping out of the apartment building and into the fresh air. Breathing it in, using it to power their march forward. They can move past this -- they have to. There’s no other choice.

Even with the ache, though, the performance is a marked improvement over where they started the season. Now the anger of the unexpected betrayal has ebbed, and they can both think clearly. They can reflect, look back on what happened, see where they both went wrong. They can accept that it isn’t a simple issue of “I’m right, you’re wrong” -- like most relationships -- and that the mistakes they made don’t completely erase the good that they shared.

They loved each other. They let each other down. Those two things can coexist. That’s life.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

Maya picks up the second verse, moving away from the door to head towards the window. She pulls the curtain back, looking for Isa on the streets -- but they’re already gone. The moment has already passed.

It’s time to move on. Maya settles onto the window sill, tilting her head against the pane.

You're elusive and it kills me Inconclusive, never-ending

Whether their story is actually over is hard to say. Neither of them can know right now, in the present moment, what the future might hold. They just have to sit with this, try to wrap their heads around it, find a way to live with it.

They continue to pass the remaining lines back-and-forth split between Maya stoic in the window and Isa’s walk home, bringing a thoughtful and uncharacteristically demure conclusion to their journey for now. Isa takes the bridge, emphasizing the longing for how things used to be.

I will keep it, keep it sacred Like it's golden, wish you nothing But an exhale, and I'm hoping you hear when I say

Then the two of them sing the next line in unison, in balanced harmony, bringing that confession of mutual fault to musical light.

I never meant to let you down

Then we linger with Maya, still looking out the window. She takes the final line, soft and regretful, before the song fades away as softly as it arrived. For a moment, Maya sits in the quiet, heavy with the feeling…

Then it strikes her. This. This is what she’s feeling -- this is the great emotional mystery of her life right now, the one she’s been grappling with and battling and forcing down for an entire year. A cocktail of emotions she’s still struggling to figure out, to untangle the web of pride and loss and warmth and wistfulness knotted in her chest.

Inspiration has arrived like a lightning strike, overwhelming and electric. Maya climbs off the window sill and reaches for her songwriting notebook.

Time to get to work.

EXT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

KIMMY PRICE is already at a table outside the familiar coffee spot when Yindra arrives, beaming brightly when she sees her coming. She waves and stands to greet her once she approaches, offering a friendly Midwestern-charm hug. Like they’re already friends catching up, rather than one-off acquaintances who may or may not be in direct competition with one another.

Kimmy: I’m so glad this was able to work out. Feels like fate!

Or maybe a sign… Yindra blinks.

Yindra: Right… yeah, for sure. Kimmy: I haven’t ordered yet, so we can go grab something together whenever you’re ready. Unless they come out and take orders? I’ve never been here before, so. Yindra: No, uh, yeah, usually if they see people at these tables they’ll come take the order for you. Sometimes. I guess we’ll see.

Sounds good. For now, that just leaves the two of them… Kimmy is all smiles, and the crazy thing is, it feels authentic. She’s not throwing on a plastic one for the Hollywood sheen; she doesn’t seem to have something scheming up her sleeves.

She is, for whatever reason, just happy to see Yindra again. It’s that simple.

Kimmy: I’m actually so excited to be here. It’s my first time in the city. Thought I’d take a trip to visit it, in case this all ends up working out and I’m stuck in LA for a long while. I’m a lot closer now in Ohio than I will be. Do you miss New York when you’re on the west coast? Yindra: Um… it’s… they’re different.

True enough. The small talk is nice, and everything, but with the stakes so high, Yindra can’t help but cut right to what she wants to know.

Yindra: Did you hear from them? The execs? Did you get an offer?

She doubts she’d be here talking to her if she didn’t -- that would be truly weird. Her instincts are right, as Kimmy nods enthusiastically.

Kimmy: I did. I accepted basically immediately. I mean, I talked it over with my folks and friends and everything, but it was a no-brainer really. I’m so keen. [ a beat ] Did you? Get an invite?

Yindra hesitates, instinctively holding her cards close to the vest… then she folds. No reason not to.

Yindra: Yeah, I did. Kimmy: Yes! [ with a clap ] I knew it. I knew you’d be one of them. Your voice is way too good not to. And the harmony you had with Tabitha, when you did that high-note, low-note thing in your workshop project?

Clearly, Kimmy was paying attention. And she’s glad to hear her instincts were right -- this is actually the exact reason she was hoping they could meet up on such short notice.

Yindra: You mean you didn’t just want to spend some time with dazzling lil ol’ me? Kimmy: Oh, no, I mean, that too. I’m so excited to bond with everyone. But if you got an invitation -- Yindra: Try to talk me out of it? Kimmy: OMG, no. The complete opposite! If you weren’t already convinced, I wanted to make sure I got the chance to try to win you over.

Oh. Huh. Yindra raises her eyebrows, skeptical, but she doesn’t interrupt or walk away.

Kimmy: The group needs your voice, Yindra. You really are so, so good. And I feel like with your personality, the whole laid-back, cool but bubbly thing -- that’s exactly the balance we need. You have an oomph, and the general public will so be drawn to that. It can add a little fire to the overall picture. I know I certainly don’t add that -- despite the hair, ha ha. Yindra: You’ve really thought a lot about this. You believe in this that much? Kimmy: Of course! A bunch of talented, driven gals coming together to take this world by storm… I mean, why wouldn’t I want to be a part of it?

That’s a good question, Kimmy. Her approach is so wholesome, yet aware, and so unabashedly passionate. It’s kind of refreshing, after all of the doom-and-gloom and the common too-cool-for-school vibe of the industry these days.

Kimmy: I just… I think this could be something. Something really, really great. Call it a feeling, intuition, I don’t know, but I trust it. I’m big on trusting my gut. [ with a grin ] And to have the chance to work with other young women who are so good, and gifted, who care about this as much as I do… I’m not gonna pass that up. Even if it lasts a snap in the grand scheme of things, I’ll take that start any day.

So she hopes Yindra seriously considers joining. Because she does think she is uber talented, some of the best vocal chops they had, and Kimmy would truly like to get her know her better and become friends. Maybe that’s corny, but it’s the truth. Kimmy doesn’t know how to be any other way.

And sometimes, corny works, because she’s kind of reinventing Yindra’s entire perspective on the whole thing right now. Why does it only have to be a potential cage, full of pitfalls and trap doors? Couldn’t there be some hope in it too? Maybe it’s not so much about what the future does or doesn’t have in store for Yindra -- what matters, at the end of the day, is the perspective she takes walking into it.

For now, she isn’t making any promises, but she assures Kimmy she’ll think long and hard about it. And fast, considering the spots are going quick. Kimmy beams.

Yindra: So, uh, I don’t know if they’re ever going to come out here or not. You want to go actually order drinks, or?

Kimmy laughs, nodding. The two of them get to their feet, Yindra opening the door for Kimmy as they step inside the shop.

[ ← Last (Part 1) ] [ 413 Hub ] [ Next (Part 3) → ]

[thatmissfit]

IKON TV Episode One: Behind The Scenes

Right now, you’re walking to the YG dorms to relax with your boyfriend and his group as it’s been a while since you last saw him due to all their growing success and long schedules. You brought along some jajangmyeon for everyone as you’ve been craving it recently and thought the boys would be hungry from today’s concert. You reach the dorm and Jinhwan lets you in as he takes the takeout from your hand and closes the door behind you.

He puts the food on the living room table and both of you sit down on the couch when he asks you, “how’ve you been y/n-ie?"

You smile cutely as you respond with, "I've been pretty good, school’s been such a pain but I’m pushing through it. Plus I've missed my favourite boys,” I say with a cheeky smile and a shove to Jinnie's shoulder. “How are you guys? Being global sensations and all” you asked while pushing his shoulder, teasing him.

He laughs at your statement and responds with “It’s good, seeing the fans, performing, being on stage but I do enjoy moments where we can sit back and look at how far we’ve come with all our hard work.” “I get that. We should probably eat before the food gets cold.”

With that, Jinhwan went to get the boys as you went to the bathroom to wash up to eat. When you get out Yunhyeong, Chanwoo, Jiwon and Hanbin are sitting on the couch. “Noona, I can’t believe you bought us food. Thanks. You’re so sweet to us,” Chanwoo says as you sit down next to Hanbin. “You don’t have to thank me, I just want to make sure you boys aren’t starving yourselves.”

“Our little maknae is so cute,” Bobby says as he pinches Chan’s check. “Yah, stop that. I’m not a child.”

Junhoe, Jinhwan and DK enter the living room as the rest of you guys remove the plastic off the food and start eating. “Y/N-ah, did you hear we’re self-producing our own tv show,” Jiwon asks. “Really, that sounds exciting. Kinda like Going Seventeen or Run BTS.

“Exactly like that but we get to film, choose our own activities and well you get to see my face so for that reason we’re better than all those other shows out there.

“What is it called?” You asked. “IKON TV,” Jiwon replies, “We’re actually starting filming today.”

You turn to Hanbin and hit him in the shoulder gently, of course, you can't bruise your baby. “Yah, Hanbin-ah how could you not tell me you were filming today?” “I don’t see the big deal. Besides I wanted to see you,” he says as he pulls you in for a sidearm hug and kisses you on the temple. You put your head on his shoulder in response, “look at Hanbin-ie, being so cute to his girlfriend.” “Are you trying to say I’m not always cute to my girlfriend? Who wouldn’t be? Look at this cute face,” Hanbin says as he squeezes your cheeks together making your lips pout. “Knock it off Hanbin-ah,” you say as you remove his hands from your face and cutely pout at him. The boys laugh and continue eating.

The sounds of slurping and swallowing are going through the room while you all idly chat about school, new songs, fan meets, anything under the sun really. Even though you’re dating Hanbin the rest of the boys are like your brothers and if you needed anything they would be there for you and vice versa.

“Wah, that was so good. It really hit the spot,” Yunhyeong says as he sits back in, “thanks Y/N.” “No problem guys, but as I said, I just want to make sure you’re all good.”

Eventually, you all go your separate ways in the dorm and you and B.I head to his room as he closes the door and he pulls you into his lap. He sits there with his hands wrapped along your waist as he admires you deeply. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says quietly just enough for you to hear but not for anyone else to. “I know. I miss my talented rapper-songwriter”

“I’m serious baby, I missed you. A lot.” It makes your stomach flutter to hear him be so honest but you know it’s true. Both of you have been extremely busy; you with your last semester of university and him with ikon so, you understand that being separate at moments of your relationship is required in both of your lives. “And I missed you too,” which of course is true but you know he wants to hear you say it, you know he's just insecure as this is his first real relationship so you make sure he knows you love and care for him.

He leans in as you meet him halfway in a short and sweet kiss, and another, and another before you stop him with, “as much as I love kissing you, don’t you have to film soon?” “Yea, but that can wait. I want more time with my girl,” he tries to kiss you once more but you pull away and place your finger on his lips. “Ah, ah, go film,” with that you get off his lap and force him to stand up but being a whiny little baby he jokes by saying, “yah, so you don’t love me anymore y/n-ie.” “Stop being an idiot Hanbin-ah.” You push him slightly towards the door and he shoots you finger hearts as he walks out.

You lay back on his bed for a few minutes until you decide you want the coolness of the ground so you roll off and lay on the floor as Hanbin walks back into his room to see you on the floor. “You do know there’s a camera up there,” he says as he points at the corner of his ceiling where a go-pro films you, more importantly, you decide to lay on a cold hard floor instead of a comfy bed. “How awkward,” and even though you said that it didn’t prompt you to leave the floor.

“Yeah, a bit of an invasion of privacy but we’ll make the most of it.” He proceeds to take off his shirt which confuses you, “I didn’t know you were into that stuff.” He looks down at you puzzled by your dirty mouth especially since you were being recorded. He nudges you sightly with his food and responds with, “it’s not like that, dirty girl I’m gonna work out, but you can help me if want.”

You sit up wondering how could you help him workout but if this means seeing him shirtless longer you didn’t really mind. He positions you perpendicular to the bed and lays you back down on the floor then, he positions himself to use the bed as support to do his pushups over you. “You’re my motivation so, you’re gonna lay there and look pretty, which you always are,” he gives you that cute smile you love, “and every time I come down you give me a kiss, okay?” Surprised by his boldness especially with the cameras here you still nod at his proposal.

He does about thirty pushups and for each one he gives you a sweet and short kiss that makes you want to kiss him more. Even though the cameras are recording this it still feels like you guys are in this little world that nothing and no one can penetrate. Being so busy with your own lives, these are the moments you cherish the most so when does the last pushup you give him an extra kiss and he blushes as he turns away from the camera and moves on to the pull-up bar. You sit up and lean against his bed as you admire his back muscles thinking about how your attractive boyfriend is reeling in all types of fans with the show he’s putting on. His workout continues for the next hour but you decide to take a shower and do your skincare since you leave some of your stuff at the dorm for when you stay over.

When you come back Hanbin is now lying on the floor tired, he then complains about being sweaty and gets up to take a shower while he brings his camera as well. Eventually, you hear the shower running which made think of giving ikonics a peek they would like so, you sneak into the bathroom, grab the camera Hanbin left on the counter and started recording yourself at first. You whisper into the camera, “hey ikonics, hope you’re in for a treat.” That’s when he heard you, “what are you doing in here baby?” You make sure to cover the bottom half of the camera so it doesn’t become that type of video and reply with, “I wanna give ikonics a present.” You flip the camera and blow a kiss at the camera then, flip it back towards Hanbin.

He tries to move around which could be problematic, “don’t move! Just say I love you, ikonics,” you prompt him. He puts his arms up into a heart and repeats what you said, “love you, ikonics,” he also draws a heart in the steamy glass door which makes you laugh. You flip the camera back on you and end the recording with, “love you ikonics, hoped you enjoy that scene.” You whisper the next part so Hanbin doesn’t hear, “I’ll try and film sneaky things like that when I can.” You stop the recording and left Hanbin to finish his shower and went to lay down in his bed.

A few moments later he comes back and quickly gets dressed in boxers and sweats so, he can lay down in the bed with you. He wraps his body around you by putting his arms and legs around your torso and shoulders. He kisses you on the temple then asks you, “are you okay?” You turn to him confused why he’d asked that. “Why wouldn’t I be, are you okay?”

“Yea I just wanted to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable with all the cameras and stuff invading our space.” Look at your baby being so cute and considerate, damn you love him to bits but, you do understand why he’d ask that. If you were with someone else you wouldn’t know if they’d stay in such an invasive environment but you love Hanbin, Ikon and all their fans so you wouldn’t change your life one bit.

You squish his face and tell him, “I wouldn’t change this for anything because all of this comes with being with you and I love being with you so yea, I’m good.” You gently brush your lips against his and give him a gentle kiss. He then unwraps his body from yours to grab the television remote from the bedside table and turn on Netflix. “So Sisyphus or Men on a Mission?” Not even a second was needed to think about this simple decision which is, “Men on a Mission, obviously.” He smiles at you as he starts the show and pulls you back into his chest where you snuggle yourself into and eventually both of you fall asleep to the sounds of laughter.

[helnjk]

Let Go - H.G.

Hermione Granger x reader

Requested: yes

Can I request a Hermione Granger x fem reader (gender neutral is fine too) with angst prompt 7? Thank you so much <3 “it feels like you’re slipping through my fingers and i can’t do anything about it”

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: the future is murky, and your girlfriend’s distance is not doing you any good either. 

Warnings: angst

A/N: this is my first time writing for hermione wah, i hope you like it! 

Prompt is in bold

-

Something was wrong. 

The moment you had arrived at the Burrow, you knew something was wrong. Hermione greeted you before you could even get through the threshold, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. It seemed as if she was trying to say something with her gesture, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

Before you could ask her about it, you were guided away by Molly who was leading you to the room you were going to be staying at while you were there. Thankfully, all you had to do was to drop your bag next to the bed assigned to you and then you were off to find your girlfriend. 

You found her out in the garden, whispering something urgently to Ron, gripping his arm and leaning in closely. The moment the pair of them saw you, they immediately sprung apart. 

In the blink of an eye, you watched as Hermione put on a mask of calm and smiled at you as you walked towards them. 

“Hey,” She said, taking your hand in hers as soon as you were close enough. 

“Hey ‘Mione,” You replied, squeezing her hand, “Didn’t get to chat much when I arrived, sorry ‘bout that. Molly just wanted to show me where I’m staying.” 

She shook her head gently, “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re here.” 

Usually, Hermione loved to talk your ear off, and usually it was about anything that took her fancy at the time. There was something constantly running through her head, be it an interesting fact she read about a demiguise, or a piece of news from the muggle world that seemed quite important to her but you couldn’t really understand. 

Now, though, the two of you lapsed into silence and Ron, who had sensed the unusual tension, opted to make his way back into the house.

Your thumb rubbed circles against her hand, “Are you alright? Did something happen?” 

Her eyes seemed to look anywhere but at yours, “Yes of course! Everything’s fine.” 

“Hermione,” You warned, leaving no room to argue in your voice. This tactic never usually worked on her, though. 

A sigh escaped her lips and she ran her other hand through her hair. It was down today, curls sticking out and slightly frizzy due to the extra humidity of the summer day. She didn’t look any less beautiful to you. 

“Let’s go on a walk?” More of a request than a statement, but after the silent few minutes the two of you spent, you were eager to find out what was bothering her. 

Summer at the Burrow was as gorgeous as ever. It was quite a shame that you couldn’t take it in, in all of its glory, because of the looming war and the thin thread your relationship was hanging onto. 

You hadn’t known when it started. Well, maybe you did but you just refused to acknowledge it. When Dumbledore had died, you attributed Hermione’s distance to grief. Merlin knows you also needed time to wrap your head around the events that whirled past you that fateful night. It was a wonder that you got out of the battle unscathed.  

During what was left of the semester, after the funeral, you found yourself seeing your girlfriend less and less. You would stumble through the portrait hole late into the night and you would find her huddled in a corner with Ron and Harry. Whatever they were talking about seemed to be of utmost importance to the trio, but no one knew their plans. 

You had thought that they’d figure out whatever it was that they needed to do before you arrived at the Burrow, but it seemed like there were still many things left unfinished. 

The two of you stopped at a small meadow, just beyond the line of wards surrounding the home. A cool breeze floated through the air and ruffled the flowers that littered the path. Despite the beautify of the place, you couldn’t help but be filled with melancholy. 

Hermione paused, gripping your hand tightly as her eyes scanned your surroundings. You knew she was looking for any sign of danger and your free hand closed around the wand in your pocket. 

You felt a shimmer of magic surround you, only noticing then that she was mumbling under her breath. When she finished, she released a breath and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

“You going to tell me what’s been going on with you recently?” You spoke softly, as if approaching a wounded animal and you didn’t want them to flee. 

When she didn’t reply, instead gripping your hand tighter in hers, you continued, “Because it feels like you’re slipping through my fingers and I can’t do anything about it.” 

Your statement finally got a reaction out of her and she let out a choked sob. Before you could react, her lips were on yours and she was snaking her arms around your neck. Automatically, your arms found their way around her waist and you pulled her closer to you. It was as if your bodies were speaking for themselves, telling the other I love you, I need you, don’t leave me. 

Before you could pull apart, Hermione went back for more sweet pecks and more and more. 

You could taste the saltiness of her tears leaking into the kiss, but you didn’t mind. This was the first time you two had been alone together for a long time, and something told you that there was a possibility of it being the last. 

“I love you,” She whispered once you had finally broken apart, forehead resting on yours. 

“I love you too.” 

“You know I’d tell you what we have to do if I could,” She began and you felt your heart stutter, “But the less people know, the better. I want to make sure you’re as safe as possible.” 

You released your grip on her waist and instead held her face and locked eyes with her, “You know I want to help. I can help. You don’t need to do this alone, Hermione!” 

All she did was shake her head and look at you sadly. 

Over the next few days, you had barely let Hermione out of your sight. You thought that she was going to leave any time with Ron and Harry, who arrived battered and bruised but alive a few days after you.

Her melancholy and anxious attitude that first day seemed to vanish, though. Throughout all the wedding preparations and loud dinners with the Weasley family, Hermione smiled graciously and the spark in her eyes seemed to make a reappearance. She held your hand more, and kissed you for longer. At night, the two of you would lay together and whisper sweet nothings until you fell asleep in each others arms. 

It was almost as if she forgot about all of her plans. 

The excitement surrounding the Weasley home the day of the wedding seemed to infect the both of you as well. 

When you saw her walk down the stairs in her ruby red dress, your breath left your chest. Your vision tunneled and all you could see was the gorgeous human being in front of you. The smile on your face grew when she made a beeline for you and placed a sweet kiss on your lips. 

A laugh left her lips as you spun her around, “You look absolutely gorgeous, love.” 

“Thank you,” She blushed, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek, “You look stunning too.” 

Hermione hadn’t let go of your hand the whole ceremony. When Bill and Fleur were pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and shared a lovely kiss in front of all their friends and family, she squeezed your arm and sent you a knowing smile. Despite the stares from some of the distant Weasley relatives that you knew were sent your way, the two of you swayed together on the dance floor.

The moment you had taken a seat at your table, giving your slightly aching feet a break, Kingsley’s patronus appeared in the middle of the tent. 

Your mind barely registered his warning before guests started yelling and scrambling to apparate away. You blinked and suddenly a cold fear washed over you. Your eyes darted to where you had last seen your girlfriend, panicking when you couldn’t find her in the chaos. 

“Hermione?!” You yelled, just as masked figures had appeared and started throwing spells left and right. 

“Y/N!” A voice yelled. It wasn’t who you wanted to be, your eyes finding the face of Ginny, “Y/N we have to get out of here!” 

She began to tug on your arm, trying to lead you away from the crossfire, but your eyes were still searching for the distinct head of curls. 

“Hermione!” You all but screamed as you were ushered out of the tent.

[sgstories123]

At the Library

Farid stroke Nurul’s inner thighs, inching his way up towards her slit. Nurul gasped when Farid’s hands touched her, instinctively clamping her thighs together. But that just made it even more arousing for Farid, as his hand faced resistance in moving towards its goal. He imagined his cock must faced the same kind of situation whenever it plunged into Nurul’s cunt.

“Stop it. People will see.” Nurul whispered harshly.

“Let them. Everyone is doing it anyway.” Farid smiled devilishly.

Nurul looked around the library. There were several groups of students. Some were really studying but there were also many couples who were only pretending to study. Mostly, they were just talking to each other but the braver ones were kissing and hugging each other. Farid must be the bravest to be stroking her thighs like that. But she may be wrong as she could not see what the others were doing under the table.

“Do you want to fuck me here?” Farid had that devilish grin again.

“Are you crazy?” Nurul whispered disbelievingly.

“I know you want it. You are all wet.” Farid fingers reached their goal and were now rubbing her slit through her panties.

Farid had joined Nurul’s class this semester. He was very funny and often did silly things. By the end of the week, Nurul was already in bed with him. Once they started having sex, Nurul found herself even more attached to Farid. She was not a virgin, having lost her virginity to her ex-boyfriend. But Farid was so much better than her ex-boyfriend, knowing exactly how to make it pleasurable for her. Every time he touch her, she can feel bits of electricity coursing through her body. She could not stop herself from wanting Farid to fuck her.

It was the same thing now. Even though they are in the library with so many other people, she knew that it was difficult to say no to Farid. Her juices were already pouring out of her pussy. If Farid continue playing with her slit, in no time, she will be unable to stop herself moaning.

“Fuck me.” Nurul whispered softly as she found her strength leaving her. “But not here.”

Farid smiled. He stood up, helping Nurul to her feet. Holding on to Nurul, he guided her to the back of the library and pushed open the door to the stairwell. Most people use the lift so the stairwell is always secluded. Many couples knew this and use this as a place when they could not contain their sexual urges. Farid has been here several times and quite often, he will find used condoms or familiar stains.

As they went into the stairwell, Farid pulled Nurul down one flight of steps so that they could not be seen from the small side window in the door. As they walked down the flight of steps, they saw that another couple was already using the place. Nurul recognised the Chinese boy as one of the students in her lecture group but she did not know his name. He was fucking a girl against the wall. The girl had her skirt lifted up to her waist and her panties were down at her ankles. She was supporting her upper body against the wall with her hands while she was being fucked from behind. Nurul could not make out who the girl was, but the girl was clearing enjoying herself from her loud moaning. The boy smiled at Farid and Nurul, but did not stop fucking.

Farid took that as a signal that they could use the space too. He positioned Nurul next to the girl and pushed Nurul against the wall. Like the other boy, Faird lifted Nurul skirts, pulled down her panties to her ankles and started licking her cunt.

Nurul closed her eyes to enjoy the licking. Farid was so good at this that before long, she started moaning as well. The stairwell was filled with the sound of the two girls moaning in pleasure.

Nurul felt Farid’s mouth leaving her cunt. She opened her eyes and turned around. She thought maybe Farid has left but Farid was merely taking his cock out of his pants. She looked around and saw that the boy was still fucking the girl. The boy’s cock seemed much larger than Farid’s cock. She glanced up and realised that the boy was looking at her. He smiled at her and Nurul looked away embarrassed. She hoped that he did not recognise her.

But she did not have much time to feel embarrassed. Farid plunged his cock into her and immediately, pleasure took over and she was lost in her enjoyment. She could feel Farid’s cock pushing into her cunt and filling her hole completely. As she moved with Farid’s pounding, she could not stop herself from moaning even louder.

“Wah, your girlfriend moaned so loudly. So sexy, huh, bro.” The boy smiled at Farid.

“Your one also not bad. Such big tits.” Farid responded.

“Nah, your one better. Cute ass. Good for fucking from the back.” The boy returned the compliment.

“You want to exchange, bro?” Farid asked, with another of his devilish grin.

“Sure. Why not?” The boy replied.

Nurul turned around and saw that the boys have swapped their positions. The Chinese boy slapped her ass and plunged his cock into her cunt.

Nurul felt a sharp pain. She was right. The boy’s cock is larger than Farid. But as the boy continued to fuck her, she slowly got used to his large cock and was begging to enjoy it. She let the boy continue fucking her while she let her pleasure overcome her.

She opened her eyes when she felt something hot on her lips. It was Farid’s cock. She saw that the other girl was already dressed. Farid must have already finished fucking the girl. Nurul opened her mouth and took Farid’s cock in. Yup, she was right. She could taste his cum on his cock.

“You boys continue, okay. I got another lesson to go to.” The girl announced, sounding a little annoyed.

“Hey bro, I tired. You want to change position?” The Chinese boy asked Farid.

“Sure.” Farid replied.

“Lie down and let her fuck you cowgirl position?” The Chinese boy suggested.

Farid laid down on the cement floor and Nurul straddled him, guiding his cock into her cunt as she sat down on him. As Nurul was bouncing herself on Farid’s cock, the Chinese boy pushed her down to kiss Farid. But Nurul did not realise that the Chinese boy had gotten behind her and when she leaned forward, he pushed his cock into her cunt as well. Nurul screamed as the second cock went in. Her pussy was stretched so tight that she felt the skin tearing, no, maybe even the blood vessels or muscles were tearing.

“Arggh! Take it out! Pain!” Nurul screamed. But the boys merely laughed.

“Enjoy it! You get double cocks!” The Chinese boy pushed his cock further in, sliding between Farid’s cock and Nurul’s cunt walls. He leaned forward and tuned Nurul’s head towards him, giving her a kiss on the lips.

Nurul felt her pussy adjusting to the second cock and when the pain subsided, a whole new level of pleasure took over. The boys started moving. They moved in sync at first, with two cocks pounding Nurul’s cock at the same time. Then they moved out of sync, as Nurul was first pounded by one cock and then the other without rest.

“Stop it! I can’t take it any more!” Nurul begged as she felt herself drained from all the pleasure. The Chinese boy ejaculated first and pulled himself out. Then Farid continued several more thrusts before he too ejaculated.

Nurul rolled over, staring at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, exhausted from the session.

“Thanks, bro. See you around.” The Chinese boy straightened his clothes and left the stairwell. “See you at the lecture hall, later.”

[leejungchans]

— made with love...i mean telepathy.

word count: 1.4k words

content warnings: mentions of food

notes: words in [ ] represent the editors’ comments added in post-production; words in bold represent those spoken in english!! i added an additional ingredient because there’s an extra member!!

summary: ateez plays the telepathy relay cooking challenge on ateez treasure film.

a/n: my semester just ended and it feels really nice to finally be able to relax a bit and watch some going seventeen (ahhsjajs i just started stanning them and i love them so much😭🥺)!! i still have some assignments due later this month, but it’ll still be a lot nicer than the last two weeks bc they were hectic💀 i hope you’ve been well, the fourth wave of the pandemic is hitting where i live, so please stay safe!! happy reading and let me know what you think!!

you can watch the episode here!

Juliet paces around her single bedroom, waiting for her cue. She has no clue what the group challenge involves, nor why each member has to take turns playing.

She flops onto the bed, looking every bit like a starfish, and turns her head to look at the camera situated in the top corner of her room. “I’m so sleepy,” she whines, simply lying there for a few moments. [Are you going to fall asleep~]

As Juliet stares up the ceiling, eyes unfocused and lazy, the surreality of being back in Sydney sinks into her slowly. It felt like forever ago when she left home, not being able to see her family in person for years because of her trainee years and their conflicting schedules after her debut. It feels like a dream to finally not be in separate hemispheres with her home. Even better, she came back with her second family, eight boys who looked after her better than she did with herself.

Her vision blurs from a combination of tears and drowsiness, and she could feel her eyelids start to droop. She sits up with a jolt. “Wah, I almost fell asleep!” she says to the camera. “I can’t keep lying down here or I’ll really fall asleep, seriously!”

To keep herself awake, she gets up and plays “Wave” on her phone, occasionally singing along or dancing to the music while listening for her cue. [Let’s enjoy Juliet’s mini performance~]

Moments later, she hears Jongho yell from the base of the stairs, “If you’re the prettiest member in ATEEZ, come on out!”

“Oh! That must be me!” Juliet turns to the camera and cups her face with her hands to resemble a flower. [Blooming flower Juliet shows off her shining visuals~] “Wish me luck!” she says excitedly before leaving her room and skipping down the stairs.

Upon walking into the kitchen, her attention is immediately drawn by the lack of people in the adjoining living room. [Juliet enters prettily~]

“Hm? There’s no one here...” She pads over to the kitchen island and silently reads the instruction card. “Is that supposed to be Hongjoongie-oppa?” she giggles, asking no one in particular as she points at the cartoon version of their leader on the card.

She turns her attention to the ingredients, consisting of rice cakes, fish cakes, water, gochujang, chilli powder, soy sauce, sugar, diced green onions and peeled hard-boiled eggs.

“Oh my God, wah...I’m really stupid,” she admits after a while of pondering, turning to the camera in the living room behind her briefly. [So suddenly?] “I thought you weren’t going to refill the cups, but then if you didn’t, there wouldn’t be a point in this game because then we’d know which ones the others already added...” [A delayed realisation for Juliet ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]

“Okay, okay, okay, let’s think about this...” Juliet sighs and closes her eyes. [*programming noises* She is deep in thought...] “Hongjoongie-oppa, Seonghwa-oppa, Wooyoungie-oppa and Jongho-oppa already went, so one of them definitely added the water already, and I think the gochujang and rice cakes are in there too...”

Another sigh leaves her lips. “But if they all had this thought process also, would that mean they added in the more unexpected ingredients? Or should I just keep it simple and trust my gut?” [Lol, she’s so serious about this] Juliet playfully wriggles around like a petulant child. “Ah, I just want this tteokbokki to taste good! I’m getting kind of hungry...”

After a few more seconds, she picks up the cup with the eggs. [Juliet picks the hard-boiled eggs] “I like eggs,” she muses to herself as she moves towards the pot, and starts laughing when a hilarious thought crosses her mind. “Imagine if I lifted the lid and it was all just eggs in the pot. That’d be really funny.” [Luckily, ATEEZ will not be eating just eggs ♡]

To Juliet’s pleasant surprise, she lifts the lid to discover rice cakes cooking in a boiling red sauce, topped with the diced onions. “Oh, someone already added in the rice cakes! Good job!” Humming happily, she drops two eggs into the pot and puts the lid back on. [She made a good choice~ the tteokbokki is cooking well so far~] Off-camera, staff members guide her to a room just a few paces away from the kitchen where the four members are waiting. But before she enters, she shouts for the next person.

“Come on down if you’re the tall member who resembles a puppy!”

“Yah, great job!” Wooyoung says when she enters the room, and he high-fives the youngest member. Juliet beams from the praise.

“I did well, didn’t I?” she asks teasingly, high-fiving Jongho as well, obviously fishing for more compliments.

“You did, it’s going well so far,” Seonghwa replies, excitement clear in his tone. Next to him, Hongjoong nods in agreement as he readjusts his cap over his muted pink hair, faded from the bright red it was dyed months ago for their comeback. Juliet sits on one of the sofa’s armrests next to the oldest, as the other was occupied by Jongho.

The five of them watch the rest of game on the TV, squealing in happiness when Yunho and Mingi added the sugar and chilli powder respectively. [So far, each member chose different ingredients!!! Will they succeed?]

“PD-nim,” Wooyoung cheekily addresses the director behind the cameras in the room, “isn’t it going too well?” He bursts into his signature giggle as the others laugh along. [Who are you guys...?]

Juliet grins when she sees the matching smiles on the staffs’ faces. “Isn’t it boring? Aren’t you bored with this?” she cutely taunts, but almost immediately stops. “Oh, wait...I hope I didn’t just jinx us,” she adds sheepishly. [Master of foreshadowing...?]

She really should’ve seen it coming, because nothing is ever too good to be true. The group, now joined by Mingi, watch in shock and exasperation when Yeosang decides to add sugar like Yunho already did. [The tteokbokki’s already been messed up...]

Hongjoong whimpers, “We already added the sugar...”

“No! No!” they whisper-yell when Yeosang starts spooning the sugar, desperately trying to send telepathic signals. [Their telepathy fails for the first time] Their efforts are futile as the oblivious member happily skips over to the pot with the cup of sugar in his hand. [If you’re happy, that’s all that matters, Yeosang...] Juliet collapses to the floor and hits it with her fists as she wails.

Before he adds the sugar, Yeosang turns to the camera and gives a thumbs-up twice. [Hey guys! Aren’t I the best? Did I do well?] At this, Juliet’s expressions immediately sobers and she sits up on the floor. “Why is he giving us a thumbs-up?” she half-heartedly deadpans, “he’s the only one so far who chose the wrong thing.” [She hits Yeosang with a cold fact]

Her members and the staff laugh silently at her pouty face. “Yah, she’s really starting to get mad,” Yunho jokes, pointing to her face so the cameras can film it. [The tteokbokki is ruined, oppa...ㅠㅠ]

Things take a turn for the worst when San adds even more sugar while the other eight members can only watch helplessly through the screen. [Bitter smiles] “Is it supposed to be this sticky?” he asks innocently as he stirs the sugar into the pot.

“Not if you added something else!” Juliet whines, tossing away the cushion in her lap from mock frustration as the others cackle at her outburst. [Get ready to face the wrath of the maknae]

Wooyoung wraps his arms around her from behind. “Don’t get mad, don’t get mad!”

“Let’s eat!” San shouts, [The relay cooking is over] and the eight members instantly pile out of the room, loudly complaining as they curiously make their way over to the pot while Mingi chases San around the living room.

Juliet grabs a fork and spears it into a rice cake. Right away, the overwhelming sweetness attacks her taste buds and becomes the only thing she tastes. She winces, glancing at her members who have equally pained smiles on their faces. Yunho even saying it tastes like spicy red bean porridge.

She discreetly cranes her neck to find the camera, quickly realising she is mostly obscured by the others from it. She creeps to the other side of the island to grab the soy sauce and gochujang before sneakily dumping a good amount of both into the pot, stirring briskly in an attempt to disguise her actions, but they don’t go unnoticed by the members around her and the editors. [Juliet...what are you doing..? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ] Jongho and Hongjoong watch her and snicker, the former pouring more water into their snack to mellow out the sickly sweetness of the sauce.

The game ends with everyone rinsing out the taste of the tteokbokki with, ironically, more sugary soda, and Juliet makes a mental reminder that the best course of action is to simply order takeout when it comes to ATEEZ.

[This is it for the telepathy relay cooking. The challenge is complete!]

a/n: ahshjahs i had no idea how to end this💀💀thank you so much for reading🥺💗

[sigillaria-svt]

More Than Enough (University AU)

Pairing: Dance Major!Lee Chan/Dino x Advertising Major!Reader

Word Count: 4,747

Warning: None

Genres: fluff, slice of life, University AU, schoolmates, Upperclassman/Friend!Vernon (minor appearance)

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Synopsis: All your life in university, you’ve focused on making sure that outputs were sent and tests were passed. You’ve never really had the time to go out with friends a lot with all the demands of your program. One night, you had to stay late with your classmates to finish a project at school. You decide to take a nap in one of the dance studios, thinking that no one would be able to disturb your sleep there. However, the practice room is not as empty as you thought it would be.

You type away at your laptop as you sit with the rest of your group at one of the study hubs in your building. It was during this specific time of the semester that your department would allow certain rooms to be usable 24/7 to help students pass the necessary requirements for the finals period. It was almost midnight when you decided to take a break from all the work. Although you were barely done, you knew you had to take a nap if you wanted to ensure that your report was at least readable. While your other members were in charge of the graphical and artistic side, you were in charge of the technical side of the report.

“I’ll be off in the nap room if you need me. If I don’t come back in an hour, please wake me up.” You say as you close the laptop and head over to the basement of your building.

The nap room isn’t literally a room that was specifically made for students to sleep in, but it’s an old and barely used dance room. Ever since the renovation of the building a few years ago, dance majors have been using the bigger and brighter dance rooms on the 2nd and 3rd floors for practice. The old dance room is cold, dark, and to be honest, is on the verge of falling apart with a few broken floor tiles and blurry glass. The school decided to keep it to renovate it into a different room, but due to mismanagement, it never really happened and it just stayed there for years as a technically functional, but unused room.

It was a horrible place to practice in, but a perfect place to nap in.

When you and your friends discovered it when you were freshmen, you ended up using it as a secret space whenever you just wanted to take a break. Two years later, all of you now call it the nap room so that other students wouldn’t know that you were secretly using it. Usually, the main door would be locked, but there’s another door at the back of the room with a broken lock that leads to the back of the building. You enter through that back door and take your usual spot behind some cabinets. You pull out the camping bag that you’ve always kept at the side and snooze off.

Your sleep was mostly peaceful and uninterrupted. However, it is broken by the sound of feet on the wooden floorboards.

Initially, you thought it was one of your groupmates coming over to wake you up. However, no face nor voice makes itself known to you, only the sound of feet, alternating between light and heavy steps. You aren’t entirely sure what to make of it--for sure, there are at least one or two ghost stories that you heard from your upperclassmen throughout your student life, but you weren’t one to believe in the supernatural. Despite trying to rationalize your way through it, you couldn’t help but think that perhaps there really was something else going on.

You muster up the courage to slowly get yourself out of the sleeping bag with as little sound as possible, keeping yourself low as you try to peak from the side of the cabinet. From your position, you see a single person dancing in the dim light of a single cellphone flashlight. He seems to be dancing to the music from his earphones.

It baffles you why he would be practicing at this place and at this hour. Last time you knew, no dancer would want to use this room unless they absolutely had to. You wanted to get out and leave him to his business, but you didn’t want to freak him out either.

You plan on getting back to your sleeping bag, but the man ends his dance, taking off his earphones along with it. He collapses to the floor, breathing heavily as sweat falls down his face. Now that he has his ears open, you knew you had to be even more careful than before. With as little noise as you could, you slowly crawled backward, but the old creaky floorboards were not in your favor this time. As you put your weight on your knee in moving back, a sharp noise fills the room and the man immediately turns his head in your direction.

You meet him eye to eye, both of you equally shocked at the sight of one another.

“Ahhh!” He props himself up and moves back a few spaces. His hand shoots up to his mouth, scared that someone might hear him from the outside. “My goodness! Wah!”

“H-Hello.” You say with a small wave.

“Who--what, what are you doing over there?” He whispers, tiredness immediately replaced by adrenaline.

“I know, it’s a bit of a shocker, but I was taking a nap here at the back.” You say, putting both of your hands up. “Midterms week, you know how it is.”

He gets up and briskly walks to you, looking over the cabinet to see the empty sleeping bag by your feet.

“Are you even allowed to sleep here?”

“Who knows? No one outside my group has ever found out, well, except until now.” You get up as well, finally seeing how tall he actually was. “Shouldn’t I be asking the same question? Are you even allowed to practice here? Didn’t the department give you guys that fancier room upstairs?”

He shrugs. “Midterms week, you know how it is.”

You can’t help but smile a bit at his remark. “I should probably go back up. Keep doing whatever it is that you’re doing.”

Just as you were about to make your way out, he blocks your way with his arm.

“Wait, while you’re here I’m going to need your help.” He says with a slightly louder voice. “You’re the only one who knows I’m here, so I’m going to need your help.”

“What for?”

“Alright, here’s the thing. I want you to tell me how my dancing is, I feel like something is missing, but I don’t know what it is.” He goes over to pluck the earphone jack from his phone. “I’ll let you listen to the song, it won’t take long, I promise.”

Taken aback by his sudden burst of energy, you take a few steps backward. “I’m not a dancer, I don’t really think I’m in the position to say anything.”

“What’s your major?”

“Advertising...” You reluctantly reply.

“Then you’ve got a good eye. That’s more than enough. Better to have feedback from an audience of one than an audience of none, am I right?” He calls you over to listen to the music playing on his phone. “Please? If you do help me, I promise to dance to whatever you want me to if you need it for one of your projects.”

You wonder what kind of situation he could be in that he would need the advice of a stranger, but you were too carried away by his compliment and proposal to say no. Shaking your head, you walk to him and put your ear next to the speaker of the phone. With his energy, you thought that it would be some strong EDM or hip hop song, but you were surprised to hear a softer and slower song. 

After the song ends, he moves back enough for you to have a good view of him.

“I know it’s dark, but think of it as dramatic effect.” He says, putting himself into the starting position. “Can you play the song back to the start for me?”

You agree, increasing the volume to its maximum capacity. Instantly, you see him switch into performer mode. His entire expression changes as his body move fluidly in contemporary dance. As you listen to the song, you can see how much work he put into visualizing its story into a dance. Although you didn’t want to admit it, the dim light surely did create the dramatic effect that the song calls for.

He ends the piece with a pose and holds it for a few seconds before completely converting back to the ordinary college student he was before. “So, what do you think?”

“To me, it looks pretty good. I enjoyed watching you and I think your dance synced very well with the song. However, like, I don’t know if you’ll get what I mean but...” Your tilt your head from side to side, trying to shake your brain for the best way to explain it. “You weren’t? Your dance got the song, but you didn’t?”

He slowly nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh man, I’m so sorry, I don’t really have a better way of explaining it.” You say, guilty that you may have said something that didn’t really sit well with him.

“No, I get what you mean, kind of. I just want to know what part.” He shifts his weight on one of his legs, deep in thought.

“I don’t know, up to you to find out, I guess.” You shrug, handing him back his phone. “It’s just what I think, so you probably shouldn’t think too much of it.”

“No, it’s good. You got me thinking at least, thanks.” He says, taking his phone and putting it in one of his pockets. “I’ll just sleep it out and think about it more in the morning.”

“Now that I’ve told you what I think, I assume that your offer to become a dancer is now set?” You say, making sure that you seal the deal. Although it seems like nothing to him, you knew that this could be important for one of your outputs one day. You take out your own phone and open the notepad. “I’m going to need your contact details.”

“Is this your way of hitting on me?” He says playfully, followed by his own high-energy laughter. “Nah, I’m just kidding, hand it over.”

He takes your phone and types in a few lines before handing it back to you. You check it one more time to check if he didn’t put in some nonsense information.

Lee Chan, 3rd Year Dance Major

leechan_1999@gmail.com

Messenger: @LeeChan_1999 (please message me here)

“I’ll see you around!” He says, picking up the rest of his things before disappearing out the back door.

▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫ 

The next few days go by in a flash. After spending a few sleepless nights, you and your group successfully pass your project with higher than expected grades. Now it’s the short silent period after the hectic midterms week where everyone just goes to classes, but without much really happening except for a few reminders and some feedback on recent outputs.

You sit at the round park table at the small park at the side of your building, watching students spend time with their friends while they still can for the short rest period. Across you, one of your upperclassmen and close friends, Hansol, types out something on his laptop.

You take a sip from the fruit drink you got from one of the stalls. “Still doing that paper you were cramming at the last minute?”

“Isn’t it fine though?” He says, looking up at his laptop. “I’d rather pass a finished but late paper than an incomplete mess. I’ll be done in a few minutes. Once I email it to our professor, we can go over to the movies with the rest of the guys.”

“Alright, go do your thing.”

You cross your legs and scroll through your phone. You had to meet up with your friends in around half an hour at the cinema nearby. Although you were used to Hansol pushing things to the last minute, you just wanted to hurry and get out of the campus.

You put down your phone and lie down on the bench, looking up at the canopy above you. The weather is just perfect to laze around and have fun. You knew that everything was going to get busy again starting next week, but you didn’t want to burn yourself out.

“Hey.”

Your view of the canopy and internal train of thought is broken by the face of Lee Chan--who you and your friends now like to call the Midnight Dancer--just above your face.

You jolt back, putting your hands up defensively. “Hey..?”

You sit up, looking at him as he takes a seat next to you. “I finally get what you mean!” Chan says, putting his hands on his knees. “I did a few adjustments to the dance, and guess what? I aced the performance, got enough good marks to last me until graduation.”

It takes you a few moments before realizing what he was talking about. “Oh, you mean for that dance you did?”

“Yeah! You don’t know how thankful I am for what you said. People always comment on the steps or the songs, but it’s the first time someone told me about getting the song myself.” He crosses his arms and shrugs. “Weird and absurd, but effective. By the way, I never really got to know your name. I’ve always referred to you as ‘that one girl from advertising’ when I tell my friends about it.”

“I’m glad it helped you out I guess. My friends always tell me that my thoughts don’t really make any sense.” You reply. “Oh, and my name is y/n. Easy to remember, I hope.”

“Good to finally have a name for the nameless character. Nice to meet you for the second time, y/n.” He leans his elbow on the table beside him. “Anyway, what are you up to?”

You look over to Hansol, then back to Chan. “We’re going out for a movie, getting off some steam after the midterm week. Want to come along?”

Chan’s mouth forms an ‘o’ as he raises his eyebrows. “Are you two... you know? I mean, I’m not really a big fan of being ‘that’ guy during a date.”

“Wait, it’s not what you think,” Your eyes grow big, flustered at the comment. Although you were 100% sure that you saw Hansol as a friend, bringing up the subject made you shy. “We’re going out with other friends, like a big group of friends.”

You see the corner of Chan’s mouth tilt up ever so slightly in amusement. "Alright, alright. I’d be happy to come along.” He takes out his phone and checks the time. “Just give me a few minutes to get my stuff at the dorm. Fifteen minutes, I think?”

You look over at Hansol, who still seems to be typing without a break. “Sure, I think that’ll be more than enough.”

“Alright, wait for me.” He says one last time before quickly disappearing over the corner.

“So that’s the Midnight Dancer you guys have been talking about?” Hansol says, his eyes still focusing on his laptop screen. “I didn’t think that the story was actually serious.”

“Does it really sound like something I’d make up?”

This time, Hansol looks up from his laptop. “I mean... it kind of does.” He types in a few more lines before clicking away at something. “I’ll send this off real quick.”

Fifteen minutes later, Chan arrives at your table, just as he said. This time, he’s carrying a backpack with him. “Alright, let’s go?”

“What’s the backpack for?”

“I’ve got a rehearsal tonight. Thought I’d drop by after the movie. If you’ve still got time to waste, you can sit in and watch.” He says, putting his hands through the slings of his bag.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to make me give you absurd feedback again?”

“I’m sorry, was it obvious?” He lets out a big laugh, giving a wide smile afterward. “Nah, you can really just watch this time.”

“Alright, why not.”

The three of you make your way to the theatre, meeting your four other friends. Despite meeting them for the first time, Chan easily blends into the group. Although he’s loud and friendly, he puts care into his words and actions. In the movie theatre, the two of you sit beside each other. You laugh at the small snarky comments he says at the side, grateful for the small breaks in silence. Although he says it quietly enough not to disturb the people around him, your laughter may have been louder than you wanted it to be. This earns you a few nudges from your friends, but you manage to keep a hold of it for the rest of the movie.

Once outside, the two of you can’t stop talking about the movie. You never really had to worry about running out of things to talk about because Chan always had something to say about everything. Even on your way to his rehearsal, both of you ended up talking about anything and everything. To be honest, you found the conversations more fun than the movie you were watching.

Eventually, when you had to go home, all you thought about was the lightheartedness you felt when being with him. You think of it as the buzz you feel when making a new friend who you know you’d click with for sure.

Little do you know, you’re already looking forward to the next time you’d randomly bump into him.

▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫ 

Just as you thought, the following week was leading back into the cycle of busy schedules. It was one project after another. You weren’t really one to complain--you had great friends that helped out well in whatever you were tasked with, but you miss having a person that you could just freely talk to.

Somehow, you end up looking for him in the random figure at a crowd, or the loud and distant laughter at the lounge. Even your friends were starting to see that you were always somehow checking out the periphery.

When you do happen to come across him, you find yourself unnaturally excited.

You and your classmates are currently gathered at the student lounge, waiting for the multimedia room to be open so that you could begin your presentations for a class. You decide to move a couple of meters away from the big group, reviewing all the things you had to say for class later on.

You are looking out at the parking lot, memorizing and spacing out at the same time. Yet, when you spot a familiar head of brown hair, your mind immediately trails away from your presentation.

After two weeks, you finally got to see him again.

Well, about a hundred meters away, that is.

As if he had known you were staring at him all along, he turns his head toward you and gives you a wide smile as he crosses the parking lot. You give a small wave in return.

You would have wanted to have a small talk with him, but he turns over at one entryway and makes his way up the stairs, presumably to one of his classes.

You didn’t really have much time to think of it. Just as Chan disappeared, the doors to the multimedia room open, all of your classmates flowing into it as the previous class makes their way out.

“Y/N, let’s go!” You hear one of your classmates call out.

“Ah, yeah. Coming.” You say, turning back with your eyes still lingering for a few seconds on the staircase.

Ever since then, you’ve been starting to meet him a bit more often. Usually, it would just be the small smiles and eye contact from across the hall. Sometimes, you’d get to walk across each other in the hallway and exchange a few greetings. However, he always seems like he’s in a rush to get somewhere. Although you knew that he has his own life to live, you were curious about how he was doing. After all, he was the kind of guy that practiced in the middle of the night in an abandoned dance room, then he has probably done other similar things.

You didn’t know you were starting to think a bit too much about it when Hansol actually pointed it out.

At one of the cafes outside school, you and Hansol just finished a small consultation session for a project you were doing. With all the schoolwork he has to do, it was a bit hard to find the time to sit with him, so you had to run to the cafe for a quick minute while your group mates continue drafting the project at the campus.

“Why don’t you just go ahead and send him a message? You have his contact details, right?” Hansol says out of the blue, making you almost spit out your drink.

“Who?”

“Come on, you know who I’m talking about.” He grabs a piece of tissue and hands it over to you. “Lee Chan. From what I hear, it seems like he’s a pretty good dancer. You talk about him a lot.”

You take the tissue and wipe your mouth with it. Of all the times, Hansol actually brings this up now. “I do not--you know what, maybe I do. I mean, I can, but...”

“You still have that deal with him where you could use him as a dancer for your project right? I think it would be good if you could use a dancer concept for the promotional video.” Hansol leans his arms on the table and nods. “I don’t think the other groups would think to go as far as to find a dancer to promote an imaginary sportswear brand, so maybe it’ll earn you some extra points.”

You feel a small drop of cold sweat break out. All this time, Hansol was talking about the project, not your growing affection for the hardworking dance student.

“Ah, you mean that?” You shrug, trying it play it off. “Alright, sure, why not? I’ll have to tell my groupmates about it first, though.”

“Oh, absolutely. Hitting two birds with one stone, right?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Go ahead and contact him. Is there anything else you want to talk about?” He asks, giving a small comforting smile.

You check the time on your laptop. “I’d love to talk, but I think I need to get back to my group mates. I promised I’d be there by 10:30 tonight.”

“Doing one of your late-night projects again?”

“The woes of an advertising major.” You say below your breath as you hurry to put your laptop back in your bag. “Thanks for the time. Don’t cram too much this time.”

When you get back to the room your friends were staying in, you tell them about the advice Hansol told you. They seemed to be completely fine with it, so you sent a message over to Chan. It was late into the night, so you were worried if he would even respond. During normal class days, the rooms would only be open up until midnight, so you knew you had to finish the draft if you wanted to pass it on time by tomorrow.

After a few minutes, he responds.

“Sure, I’m down. I’m over at the secret dance room if you want to talk about it.”

You quickly relay the news to your groupmates, and they make their adjustments to the output. Elated, you made your way downstairs. Now that the proposal was done, all you had to do was make the promotional video within the week. More than anything, you’re happy to be able to talk to him again, even if it was just going to be about school stuff.

From outside the back door, you could hear the same intense footsteps, dancing to their own music. You open the door, seeing Chan dancing away in the dark room. When he sees you, he gives you a small nod and takes off his earphones.

“Hey, still practicing late into the night in secret?” You say, remembering the first time you saw him.

“Same goes for you. Still making outputs late into the night, but not in secret?” He says with a laugh. “Let’s talk outside, I could need a breath of fresh air.”

Both of you find a spot on one of the benches surrounding a large tree.

“So, what’s the concept about?” He asks with a bit of tiredness in his voice.

You give him all the details of the video. You planned it to be short and impactful, heavily relying on whatever dance Chan could perform to make the output stand out. For the entire time, Chan listens silently, nodding from time to time. Once you were done, he gives his comments for the first time.

“Sounds pretty good. Let me know when you have the song decided and I’ll think of something.” He says, a little less energy this time.

The both of you sit in silence for a few moments, the late-night breeze flowing between both of you. Either you’ve been observing him too much, or Chan has been very obvious about it, but you notice that he’s not really as upbeat as he was before.

“How’s life going on?” You break the silence, hoping that he’d open up to you at least a little bit. “You don’t seem pretty good.”

“Well, it hasn’t been going as well as I thought it would be.” He says, trying to lift his tone, but failing terribly. “I don’t know. Would you care to listen?”

“Of course.”

That’s when he brings out a topic that you never thought he would talk about. On most days, he had to work at a part-time job and would only really have to practice at night. He always felt that something was lacking with the way he danced, which is why he would always practice in secret at the dance room downstairs in fear of judgment. On top of that, he works hard to do performances for the dance group he’s in. He lets it all out, all the insecurity and burnout that comes along with all the responsibilities that he’s taken on.

“I’m sorry, I’m talking too much. You should get back to your project.”

“No, it’s alright. There’s nothing to be sorry about. We’re done for the day anyway.” You take in a deep breath. You keep your eyes straight, looking at the row of trees in front of you. “How long have you been doing this?”

“I don’t know, perhaps since the start of my freshman year? I’m actually surprised that we only met now when I’ve been using the dance room for years. Apparently, it’s because we always use it at different times.” He leans back and puts his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “Thanks for listening, anyway. Doesn’t really change my situation, but at least it makes things lighter.”

“Sure, anytime. I really don’t think you should be keeping your burdens all to yourself. It can get pretty lonely.” You say. You turn your head to look at him, finding out that he had been looking at you all this time. “What is it?”

“Does it ever occur to you that there are people who you are just meant to meet?” He says in a low voice. “Thank you for being that person.”

You feel your face heat up despite the cold temperature. You weren’t exactly sure how to take his words. He looks at you for a little longer before getting up and returning back to his normal, energy-filled self.

“Well, anyway. Let’s head back before the monitors come by and see us hanging out beyond the closing time.” He says, offering his hand to help you up.

You take the offer, and he helps you up. Instead of letting it go, he keeps your hand in his. This time, you really aren’t able to hide the redness forming over your face. All you hope is that it wouldn’t be too obvious under the moonlight. He lets out a small chuckle before bursting out in his usual reverberating laughter.

“Come on, let’s go.” You say, walking in front of him to keep him from seeing your face. He moves along with you, hand still linked with yours.

“Seeing you flustered never gets old.” He says between his laughs.

For someone with a lot of words, his actions were more than enough to make you understand. Just this was enough to make you happy, enough to make you believe that there really are people you are meant to meet. - END -

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 4.2 - Drifting Yunichika

2. BOYS’ NIGHT

I’m back...for real this time

Translation Notes

1. Japanese rooms are often measured by tatami mat. A tatami mat is about 1.65 square meters.

2. Vabo-chan is a mascot character created by Fuji TV that shows up during volleyball game broadcasts. It’s basically a white ball with hands and feet and creepy looking eyes

3. The “itoko”/Itoko pun is back! Itoko is the Japanese word for cousin and also Kuroba’s cousin’s name

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Seiin High School was built on a slope at the foot of a mountain. It took fifteen minutes to climb up the hill from the school building, and the training camp was located in a place where you had to push through the woods of the mountain behind the school. It was a one-story wooden house that was in all probability haunted, rumored to have existed before the school was founded. The mountain was also owned by the school, and at the end of the first semester, all the first-year students were sent to collect firewood for the school festival campfire. The memory of being eaten alive by mosquitoes was fresh in his mind. Even though he wasn’t stung, just walking into the woods brought back the itchiness he had felt all over his body.

From July 26 to 30, this would be the lodging house for the boys’ volleyball team’s summer training camp. Two days after training camp was over, the Fall Tournament would be coming up from August 1 to 3. It was a one-off tournament that wasn’t connected to Nationals, but it was a chance for them to check well their team was doing as well as to gauge the strength of the other schools so that they could make final adjustments for the Spring Tournament prefectural preliminaries at the end of September.

The house was a minimalist structure, with a twenty-mat (1) Japanese-style room, kitchen, canteen, and communal washrooms for men and women, and the facilities were also very simple. It of course didn’t have luxury items like air conditioners installed, just an old-fashioned electric fan in the canteen.

“I wish there’s a fan in this room too…”

After the study session in the canteen had finished, he was lying on his stomach at the edge of the Japanese-style room to cool off when Okuma stepped on his back and he let out a “Gueh” like a crushed frog. “Wait, it’s coming out, the food I ate.”

“Hey, where did Haijima go?”

“Please don’t treat us as a set. Didn’t he get caught by Aoki-senpai and is still in the canteen? Aoki-senpai doesn’t seem like he’d be satisfied he can’t do something about his modern lit.”

When they got their results back from their end-of-term tests for the first semester, the academic abilities of the new recruits had become joke material for their seniors. Kuroba was good at Japanese overall, but in most other subjects he just barely avoided failing. Haijima, on the other hand, was…

After the seniors exclaimed “Whoa…” in astonishment at his amazingly high marks in subjects that had to do with calculation and memorization, the eye-avertingly awfulness of his writing subjects made them fall down and say, “Never mind…”

“Haijima seems uncomfortable with Aoki-senpai. He looks like he hates him.”

Futons were already laid out in the Japanese-style room. It was four futons in two rows, with the pillow side facing each other. They had laid them out themselves, so it was quite messy. Hokao and Uchimura, who had already taken up positions on the middle two futons that formed a second-year island and were fully ready to sleep, lifted their heads off their pillows and said, “Oh, that—”

“Haijima got kicked by Aoki-senpai because he pissed him off, right? In April.”

“Has Aoki-senpai ever gotten angry?”

“He’s scary when he’s angry. No, it’s more harsh rather than scary.”

“Aoki-senpai gets harsh when he’s angry, and it’s Kanno who’s scary when he’s angry.”

Hokao and Uchimura looked at each other and stifled laughter. The various sounds of summer insects continually fell like a gentle drizzle, constantly beating against the awning of the porch. When the storm shutters were fully slid open, they felt a moderately comfortable breeze. However, mosquitoes also flew in, so mosquito repelling incense stood in the four corners of the room making thin plumes of smoke.

The mixture of incense smoke and the remaining scent of the yakiniku was already thickly staining the T-shirts they had changed into after practice. I might have eaten too much meat…my stomach hurts… Well, the excess calories could be easily consumed in tomorrow’s practice, and in any case, Kuroba didn’t have such a delicate body that a weight change of one kilogram or around that could affect his jumping power. By the way, Okuma was the only member of the team who was required to lose weight. He had too much muscle mass.

“It’d be boring if Haijima wasn’t here.”

“Is there something interesting?”

When he tried to get up, Okuma sat astride his back. “Heavy…I really am too full…” And that’s why you’re so irritating… Moreover, he chose the right person. It was detestable that he thought he could get away with this kind of messing around with Kuroba, but didn’t do it with Haijima.

Okuma thrust his cell phone into his face from behind. His phone was the latest model with a big screen. The moment his eyes landed on the screen, Kuroba stopped his complaints with an “Oh? …” and gulped. It was a video of a woman with a lot of exposed skin, so to speak, squirming and moaning on white sheets, with one thing or another being done to her. “Senpai, turn up the volume a little bit. I can’t hear.” He attached himself to the screen in spite of himself and strained his ears.

“Huh, you reacted normally. I thought you’d be more embarrassed since you seem so innocent.”

“I have an older cousin, so he shows me a lot of this stuff. Hey, the volume. How do you turn up the volume on this thing?’

“Idiot, the third-years will hear it. You got a voice fetish or something? Boring, I knew I should wait for Haijima’s reaction.”

“Ah…so mean.”

He was about to grab his phone away, but Okuma snatched it away from him.

“Oh, speak of the devil.”

Kanno and Haijima appeared at the door of the room while talking about something. Judging from Haijima’s gestures, it seemed that they were talking about the duo they had been playing as all day. Or rather, that was the only thing Haijima could talk about in such an assertive way.

“Hey, hey, come over here, you two.”

Okuma was beckoning them over with a scheming look on his face, and the two looked at each other dubiously before coming over.

“What is it?” Kanno said politely, even though they were in the same school year.

“The curry recipe. You two are in charge tomorrow.”

As soon as Kanno peered into the phone screen Okuma pushed into their faces, he let out a “Wah” and turned his face away. While holding the edge of the phone between his fingertips and passing it off to Haijima, he pulled his hood down over his eyes. “I’m not too good with this kind of thing.”

“Oh. I see, I see. So you’re used to seeing it with Suemori-san.”

“Haa!?”

He suddenly snapped. It was the first time they heard Kanno’s angry voice, so Kuroba and Okuma unconsciously bent themselves back. Even Hokao and Uchimura, who had known him for a long time, started on their futons.

“Aren’t you going out with Suemori-san?”

“Absolutely not, and if you ever try to bring that sort of topic up with Ibara-cha…Suemori-san…”

His voice went a tone lower, and there was even bloodlust rising up from his shoulders. The aura of Kanno, who was usually quiet, and if anything, had practically no presence, suddenly swelled, frightening Okuma, who was fifty percent wider. Kuroba took that opportunity to crawl out from under Okuma’s buttocks. Hokao and Uchimura looked at each other under their pillows, whispering to each other, “We warned him that he’d be scary when he gets pissed off…” “Right?”

“S-sorry, sorry. I won’t say it again…” Ibara-chan, Okuma mouthed, looking like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t seem to have the courage to make fun of him to his face anymore.

“As long as you understand.”

Kanno said, then easily retracted his harsh look and reverted to his usual low-key presence. He tucked his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie, walked with sliding steps to the wall where his things were, looking like a ghost floating a few centimeters off the floor.

“Haa… So which one of us has a girlfriend?”

Okuma sat crossed-legged on the porch, facing the room, and ended up tossing out a blunt question without having learned anything at all. Hokao, Uchimura, and Kuroba all looked away vaguely. If he had one, the most exciting event during the summer vacation of his first year in high school would not have been a boring thing like a team training camp.

“This is so sad. You’re young, so you should be hungrier. The captain doesn’t look like he has a girl at all, and the only one who might be popular is the vice-captain?”

Okuma played innocent and judged others with his own arbitrary impressions.

“So, how about you, Haijima?”

When he finally brought up the subject to Haijima, Kuroba secretly felt something like a sense of superiority, thinking, This guy still has no idea at all.

Volleyball was his lover. Or rather, if volleyball was one of the opposite sex, Haijima would no doubt become her obstinate stalker. If he had a girlfriend, that would definitely be a cataclysm. Haijima, who was watching the video with his fingers pressing the earpieces of his glasses and looking like he was seriously trying to decipher a curry recipe, answered bluntly, “I don’t, and I never had one.” Just when he thought, There you go,

“Well, that’s what I thought. You seem to have completely matured from kind of stuff.”

“I did have a girl I liked.”

He doubted his ears because Haijima had reluctantly answered back to Okuma.

“Se…seriously!?”

Without thinking, he got up from lying on his stomach and crawled over to Haijima. “She’s an actual human being, right!? She’s got proper arms and legs, right!? Ah, Vabo-chan (2) does has arms and legs, but they’re not human, so wake up!” “What are you talking about…Why Vabo-chan?” Haijima screwed his face up. Okuma was doubled over laughing on the porch.

“Vabo-chan! That’s hilarious, Kuroba!”

Hokao and Uchimura had collapsed onto their futons, making strange laughing noises. Even Kanno was crouching in front of his bag with his shoulders shaking furtively. “…What does it mean?” Haijima was looking more and more reluctant. “No, I didn’t say that to make you laugh, senpai. It’s a problem that seriously needs to be examined.” “What do you mean?”

“What are you are getting noisy about? I’m turning off the lights.”

It seemed that the clamor could be heard all the way in the canteen, as Oda looked in from the door with a severe look on his face.

“Good grief, save your strength or you’ll regret it to the point of vomiting tomorrow. And I mean that literally.”

From behind Oda, who lowered his voice and gave off a sense of danger, Aoki also appeared, bowing his head to avoid scraping his head against the lintel.

“You remember me saying that those who can’t sleep will do dashes on the slope, right? Okuma, you seem to be the most energetic one here.”

“Not at all. I can fall asleep in a second.”

Okuma shoved his phone under the stomach of his T-shirt and dived into his futon. Hokao and Uchimura were now pretending to be dead, and Kanno, who was at the bags until just a while ago, was quickly tucking himself into his futon before they knew it. Somehow, the beds were arranged by seniority, with the two third-years on the innermost territory, the four second-years in the middle territory, and the first-years Kuroba and Haijima in the territory near the door.

As soon as the ceiling lights were turned off and darkness fell, the room that had been full of clamor and noise suddenly became strangely quiet. Immediately after, they began to hear someone snoring. Ten to one, that deep and throaty snoring belonged to Okuma. He was jealous that he really could sleep in a second.

Even when he laid down and closed his eyes, Kuroba couldn’t go to sleep easily. It was true that his body was exhausted from the first day of training camp, but his head was strangely clear.

He opened up his futon, turned over, and then stared into the darkness. A blue light, slightly brighter than the indoor lights, shined in from the porch, and the jagged shadows of the trees pierced into the night sky. Mosquitoes buzzed in his ears, and he waved them away in irritation.

…Mmm. Can’t sleep. I feel too excited for some reason.

He turned over again, and this time he was lying on his stomach and hugging his pillow. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning forward. “You up?”

He saw the head moving slightly on the pillow that was lined up face-to-face with his.

“Go to sleep.”

A curt voice responded to him in the darkness.

“I can’t, though.”

“Then go run outside.”

“Hey, when did you like that girl? It wasn’t when we were at Monshiro Middle, was it?”

“I told you to go to sleep. You think this is a school trip or something?”

“It’s definitely not Itoko, right?” (3)

There was the rustling of clothing, and the hair that had been hanging down on the pillow rose up. Haijima also lied on his stomach and stretched his neck towards him over his pillow. His brow was wrinkled and his eyes were narrowed so much that he looked positively villainous.

“Why are you talking about ‘itoko’?”

“Ah, did you just call her by her first name!?”

He was so shocked that his voice became louder. Haijima’s expression became even more grim, and he abruptly swept his hand off to the side of his pillow. When he was wondering what was going on, he grabbed his glasses that were caught on his fingers in a careless but familiar manner, put them on, and then thrusted his face at him again.

“Are you still seeing that cousin of yours?”

“Seeing…wh-what are you talking about, we’re not seeing each other at all! We go to different schools, I don’t really have any feelings for her, and she’s like a sister-in-law.”

As he was listing that off in a shrill and excited voice, …Hmm? Something doesn’t seem to be meshing… When he really thought about it, he didn’t remember Haijima and Itoko having any interaction with each other, and since it was Haijima, he might not even recognize Itoko’s name.

“…By cousin, do you mean Yori-chan?”

Haijima frowned and tilted his head as though to say, What are you talking about?

Yorimichi, his cousin who was three years older than him (but third-rate) had left town in spring to go to university. Kuroba also had the feeling that he was let go because his relatives found him unmanageable.

“I have nothing to do with Yori-chan anymore. We haven’t even been in touch.”

“If that’s the case, then you wouldn’t be getting so worked up.”

“I’m not getting worked up about this…”

The light from the window that was shining in from the balcony was suddenly blocked. He shut his mouth with a start and jerked his neck around, and saw a long and skinny shadow crouched beside his futon, as though one of the creepy trees he had seen outside had snuck in.

“Aoki-senpa…i…”

Two long arms reached out and grabbed the two’s heads firmly. The two drew in their necks with an “Ugu” as their heads were lifted up like in a crane game. “Idiots…” they heard one of the second-years mutter with a mixture of exasperation and sympathy.  

“Since you two seem so eager to go running, I’ll grant your wish. Twenty hillside dashes.”

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[fullhalalalchemist]

anyway i wish i didn't procrastinate all year on studying because now i'm cramming all of biochem into december when all i want to do is draw bfish and write kny fics :/ and then next semester i'm gonna be soo busy wah

[nissakii]

Scent. a Haikyu!! Fanfiction pt.10

[want to read all chapters right now? Our fanfictions get updated every monday on our blog, click here to continue reading!]

The car we sat in pulled up to the university campus, and an eerie feeling of familiarity rushed over me.

Although I was only here for one semester before leaving, I forgot how many emotions I tied to this place.

Quiet thoughts krept up into my head until I realised the cab had stopped in front of the gate and the driver turned around to me.

“That would be 15,97, please”, I extended a twenty towards him with a polite smile and while he gathered the change I looked to the seat next to me.

There he was in all his glory, a snoring mess of a man. His eyes covered with arm and tucked to his right side, his other hand lying lifelessly on the middle seat.

So that’s supposed to be an adult huh?

I nudged his arm a little, but he only groaned and swerved to the side.

“Here you go”, the driver handed me a receipt and the change and took a slightly annoyed glance at the man next to me, “a heavy sleeper?”

“Yeah, apparently”, I retorted and took both hands to shake his shoulders.

“Sleeping beauty! Wake up! We’re here!”

“Hu-wah?”, was the intelligent response he gave, hoisting himself up into a sitting position until he saw the buildings outside from the window.

“We’re here!”, he grabbed at his backpack and slung it over his back a couple times before he got it right and grabbed the handle to open the door.

I shook my head but smiled and gave the driver a knowing look.

“Youngsters am I right?”

The driver tutted and turned around in his seat, “Aren’t you guys the same age?”

Maybe physically?

“Yeah, but he’s a walking preschooler”, I grabbed my own duffel bag and opened the car door with a swing.

The trunk was already open and I got my luggage handed to me a bit too hurriedly.

“Woah, woah easy there! You’re going to run me over!”

“Oh man I’m so pumped to be back! I missed this place!”, he rambled on and started dashing off through the gates.

Well he slept through the whole plane ride and up until now, of course he has the energy.

The jetlag already made me feel incredibly tired, as I looked at my phone I realised it was merely 11am, which meant I had a long day ahead of me.

While I had my phone out, I quickly texted a message and held back a grin as I saw it was read immediately.

“Course he doesn’t reply”, I muttered to myself before I walked through the gates as well.

The man in front of me already started to briskly walk towards the school building, even though we had to go to the reception first.

“Wait”, I shouted in his direction and he actually stopped for a second to look at me.

I started to jog with my luggage trailing behind me until I got closer, “why the rush? It’s not like they’re waiting for us to-

“BOKUTO!”

“OH MY GOD!”

For the first time in what felt like ages I picked up the familiar scent of fresh caramel steadily coming closer to us, and Bokuto who must’ve done the same let go of his luggage and ran towards the small figure coming closer and closer.

With a sigh, I took Bokuto’s luggage with my other hand and tagged along.

My nose twitched as the man’s lemongrass scent flared up in excitement as he ran towards the small omega.

He roared out a loud laugh as he crushed the giddy woman with a hug.

Muffled sounds came from his chest as he kept pressing her in until she tapped out with repeated taps on his back and gave a huge smile herself as he let her go.

“I missed you!”, the omega smiled wholeheartedly, and I couldn’t repress a snarky smile myself.

“I missed you too! It’s been so looong!”, Bokuto trailed and he stretched out his arms after crouching down to meet her small frame.

“Ah~ the little rascals found each other again, huh?”, I got closer to the omega but didn’t know if she was okay with a hug, so I extended both of my palms for a high ten.

She laughed cheekily before hitting my hands harder than I anticipated, and the sting in my palms made me grin wider.

Feisty as always.

“How are you doing Kuroo?”, she asked with a smile.

I nodded while taking a side glance to Bokuto, well ya know, with this idiot here it never gets boring so”, I rolled Bokuto’s luggage towards him, “what about you? Did you make new friends? How’s Kenma?”

I had hoped for a little second that he would at least greet me, but I was not only left on read but also ghosted apparently.

“He’s good, but you missed out on some stuff”, she whispered towards me with her hand shielding her mouth.

Some stuff?

“No way, what happened?”, Bokuto interjected.

If Mikoto found it important enough to drop it in casual conversation it must’ve been something big, but I don’t think she would spill it all now.

Even though I knew Mikoto officially for three years now, she was still a mystery to me.

I had met her at her highschool graduation that she attended together with Bokuto, since they knew each other since they were children.

Bokuto had always told me stories about their time spent together, and it was a fun coincidence that I knew her cousin Shirothrough Kenma.

Kenma, Shiroand I hung out throughout our middle school days even though she was two years younger than me, and I only learned of her relationship with Mikoto after I met Bokuto through highschool volleyball tournaments.

We were from different towns and had different lives, until we somehow all joined at the same university.

Small world, hm.

There was no match to the bond between Bokuto and Mikoto.

Those two have been inseparable for years on end, and I felt like Bokuto fulfilled a bigger sibling role for her. Since their parents got along just as well, they basically turned into a duo.

A duo of huge dorks.

“Long story”, she replied.

I was about to say something about the reception, when I picked up more scents that I could and would never forget.

There they were, Shiropushing a grumbling Kenma in front of her while she giggled.

Oh man, I really did miss them.

My steps quickened as I picked up the smell of vanilla and white chocolate filling my senses, and the giggle turned into a laugh as Shiroshoved herself with Kenma into me.

“oof-”, I grunted as she extended her arms around both of us, laughing harder as Kenma struggled to muffle something against me.

Wow, what a feeling.

“Hah! I’ve missed you kids!”, I plopped my hands on Shiroand Kenma’s head to which they both flinched and complained about.

“Let me go you weirdo”, Shiropushed my hand away in played disgust, but her sweet chocolaty scent couldn’t deceive anyone with a nose.

“So! Kenma~ I hope you’re staying up all night gaming hm?”

“Tch”, Kenma’s face scrunched up,”I think you should’ve stayed away for a year longer”

I chuckled at his defensive retort and found Bokuto and Mikoto rambling over something.

Craning my neck up I tried to look for other familiar figures, I tilted my head as I didn’t find anyone.

As if he matched my thought process, Bokuto did the same and slumped his shoulders as he found nobody else approached us.

“Wait”, he whined, “where’s Akaashi?”

His head drooped down and he pouted until the omega spoke up again to comfort him.

“Heey, don’t be sad! I think he’s caught up in a meeting, we should check the beta lounge”, she lightly hit him on his arms until life came back to him.

“Alright! Let’s go find Akaashi!”

Kenma and Shiroboth followed the two while keeping a couple steps behind, and I eyed the pair in front of me a little more. The beta and the sigma were really open since they basically had the same interests and knew each other for years, but as I took a closer look at their exchange something felt different.

Hm.

Trailing behind the group, I held my luggage behind me as its wheels charred on the asphalt.

Nothing about the building changed.

I mean it’s not like it’s been a decade, Bokuto and I were just gone for a year, but I had the feeling that something at least should’ve changed while we were gone.

I looked up at the sky, the late summer still bringing a warm breeze before the winter ultimately would take over. Other students going in and out of the building or sitting on the tables around either side.

Chattering of groups walking around filled my vision, until my eyes caught two figures farther away from us.

Both of them had their eyes on Bokuto, and I squinted to make out who it was.

Wait.

Did they look at Bokuto?

Both of them were wearing casual clothing just as everyone else did, nothing about them seemed suspicious.

The taller one eyed not Bokuto, but Mikoto with his chin tilted a bit high, while the shorter one looked a lot more calm.

My gaze snapped back to Bokuto and Mikoto who were pushing each other from side to side while laughing.

I looked back at the two men and they were talking to each other, before they turned around and left.

What was all of that about?

Previous Next

[mariamegale]

I'm going through 100 year old posts of yours and I came across this, - "i just want to hold soil-stained hands with you as we watch over our garden while the sun sets and finally feel content" - and it brought up your most recent post and it just made me happy? I hope you're happy, safe, and living your best life <3 Thank you for all the content you share. It makes my day every time.

WAH anon you are going to make me cry! Thank you so much for thinking of me, this is honestly making me way too emotional after getting up at 5am for the past week and i'm about to start sobbing.

i'm having an absolutely lovely time right now. i get to say hi to sleepy morning grass puppers every morning, i have wonderful co-workers who do the macarena with me every time it comes onto the playlist, i think i might FINALLY be getting a grasp on the concept of choosing happiness and that the point of doing things that are good for you are simply and only that they make you happy. also i've got a reaaaaaaally nice t-shirt tan going on, and every day when I bike to/from work I can feel myself getting stronger, which is nice. i have yet to conquer the steep grass hill following a rough-gravel parking lot, though. will post triumphantly the day I do.

Plus, I'm playing a shitload of CK3 right now and I managed to restore the roman empire the other day, which i am PROUD of. I'll get my final grade for the semester any day now, and I'm insanely proud of myself for the B I think I might be getting. The psychologist who worked with me re:personality diagnosis' over the winter has officially applied for me to go into a five-year psychotherapy plan starting in September, and if all goes well we're going to be slowly starting to phase out my anti-depressants next year, because I might not need them in order to feel happy anymore. My parents are coming down to the cottage tomorrow, and I'm going to be able to serve both homegrown new potatoes and homegrown basil, because they've taken really well in this southern soil!

The birds living in the birdhouse are probably going to have their b babies hatch any week now, because the dad bird has been a lot more active with providing larvae and moss to the nest. There's a lady on my way to work who started to paint her fence today, and I look forward to seeing her progress when I go by. The people in the village near my work are starting to recognise me from going past them every day, including the old man with the blue beard who owns the pub, and I'm excited about being part of that kind of community again after covid and living in a big city for so long.

i really think that this is going to be a good summer.

I hope you're having the absolutely loveliest time, you lovely wonderful little sunshine person. I don't know who you are, so I tried to include little bits and pieces from everywhere. I have never felt safer before in my life, and I'm starting to think I've never been happier either.

Wherever you are, I hope and wish that you're having the most fantastic of summers too <3 <3 <3

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki SSL - Hakuo Gakuen Student General Assembly Track 3

well... i hit 300 followers. not sure if it’s a milestone worth mentioning (if you’re one who followed because of the musicals and hasn’t gotten a message, read what it says at the top of my stuff i have page) or not since i can honestly say that i only started this tumblr for myself and everything i translate was really only done for my own sake... and I really have no idea if that number is good or bad for the amount of time I’ve been posting lol.

Still, i’m going to use the fact that this happened as an excuse to post this since i couldn’t figure out where to stick it in my queue since i didn’t want to wait til september to post this lol.

Anyway, this damn track is 18 min long... and i’ll get to the video next month along with the Hijikata web drama (have to push that back cause i got a bit busy with some things). Please note that the text left in bold is when Amagiri’s conversation with Kazama gets overlapped by Shiranui speaking. 

As always, final edits will be done when I get to my subtitle video... need to double check that other video translation and the audio for a few things.

Enjoy~! and do not post elsewhere!

Hakuoki SSL - Hakuo Gakuen Student General Assembly Track 3

Translation by KumoriYami

Hijikata: okay... it's about to start.

Harada: Hijikata-san?  you okay? need stomach medicine?

Hijikata: no need... alright, start/begin.

Amagiri: The Hakuo Gakuen Student Assembly will begin now. All students, stand! .....sit down.

Kazama: Then, start with each club's budget report, Amagiri.

Amagiri: Yes. these are the draft budgets for the various clubs/departments.

Kazama: The arts and literature club, the calligraphy club, and the photography club last year all needed 10,000; the music club which won a competition, in any case, needs a budget of 50,000; the newly established broadcasting club/depart of broadcasting  to buy equipment, they need an increase of 20,000; the baseball team, soccer team and tennis team will be the same as last year with 50,000; the judo club, archery club, track and field team, and also the kendo club, given their achievements from last year......

What......100,000?! Oi amagiri, what's going on/what's this about?!

Amagiri: About this issue...

Kazama: I haven't approved of any of this!! any club/organization/group associated with Hijikata will not have its budget approved!!

Shiranui: Alright/Well, of the budget report was just read, the clubs that weren't named will will maintain the status quo this year, ok? If there's no problem, the draft proposal will be adopted directly.

(applause)

Kazama: Eh...... continuing on [next], regarding the cultural festival that is to be held in october.......Shiranui.

shiranui: hey, hey. But there's nothing much to say since it will basically be the same as last year.

Kazama: This year like previous years, Hakuo Gakuen will hold its cultural festival......

(Kazama voice's cuts out completely while Hijikata and Harada talk)

Harada: I originally though [he'd] poke a basket [probably blow a gasket], seeing him now though, it seems that things are going smoothly.

Hijikata: For better or worse, that's because he's the student council president. But, what happens next will be the real question[/test]......

Harada: Next...... you mean the matter of changing of school rules and regulations?

Hijikata: I don't know what sort of issues the students will raise, though it's better to keep an eye on them.

(aside ends)

Kazama: Read it out/This reading is finished [check video version. Alt: That will be all on/for that/Conclude with that]. Are there any objections to what was raised? If there are no objections then this proposal/motion will be passed/approved. the next topic of discussion will be pertaining to amending the school rules and regulations.

You should all remember/recall, the questionnaire about amending the school's rules and regulations that I had sent out.

Due to he subject of this questionnaire, we solicited opinions on the revision of school rules.

amagiri: kazama-sama, these are the results of the questionnaire.

Kazama: So many opinions were collected, this shows that everyone is quite diastisfied with the current school rules and regulations. I see I see.....

? ? ?: How about cancelling the classical literature class? As someone living in modern times, I cannot help but wonder if there is any real need to learn classical literature. I think the time for classical literature should be spent on something more meaningful. So I propose that the classical literature class be cancelled. ——Proposed by: Anonymous

Kazama: Hm, hahahahaha.... This suggestion/proposal/motion/draft truly is great! However I believe cancelling the classical literature class isn't enough, rather [we should be] abolishing the classical literature [teaching] position. Hm. This suggestion will be kept to discussed later.

Hijikata: oi!!! You've got to be kidding me!! Classical literature is a required subject for entrance exams! Really, it's already that Kazama is thinking about adopting this proposal,  and the one who wrote this sort of proposal is also ridiculous, Souji ! You two, [come] to my office later! [either that or the principal's office.... but im leaning towards 'my' since 我 is in the TL. reword later]

Okita: Wait a moment/sec Hijikata-san, why do you think I wrote that proposal? The questionnaire was anonymous, there's no evidence that says that I wrote that proposal.

Hijikata: Regardless if you try to be anonymous, a proposal for cancelling the classical literature, there's no one aside from you in the entire school who would propose such a thing!

souji: wah, you seem to be really self-confident in that~ However, don't you think that students find Hijikata-san's classical literature class boring, I've seen not a few of them [may be: i don't think anyone i've seen would disagree...? check video later]?

hijikata: you bastard!!!

Harada: Calm down, Hijikata-san! You need to calm down! you should treat this as Souji fooling around.......

Okita: yes yes, I simply wrote down my heartfelt and honest thoughts~ [reword later? check video tl]

Hijikata: Sure enough you were the bastard who proposed this/it!!

Amagiri: Kazama-sama. do you want discuss the motion for cancelling the classical literature class later? I think you should continue with the next proposal. Further discussion on this draft may cause delays.

Kazama: To dare give/Daring to give me advice, you truly are brazen/impudent——I was originally going to be saying that, now you do as you say/that. [check video for last sentence]

Amagiri: I sincerely apologize.

???: Classes are 50 minutes in length, and they're too long! So can they be cut down to 30 minutes? If that happens, then the lunch period can be extended, which would mean more time to eat or even take a nap right? I think that this would absolutely be better!

——Proposed by a hopeful anonymous person [double check audio cuz the text on the video just says 'proposed by: anonymous']

Shiranui: Cutting the amount of time spent in class, that has my support! Kazama, pass this proposal [approve of this]!

harada: oi, oi! Don't you know how bad it would be/about the adverse/negative influence/impact/effect it would have, if you cut down on class time?

Shiranui: Hah? How bad effect it might have?! Shouldn't this be something to celebrate [Not sure but it might instead be: something happy/good to look forward to. check video tl]?

Harada: Hah...... you may think that cutting on class time would mean more time for playing around, but that way of thinking is wrong! Don't you guys know that each semester, exams are regularly scheduled? If class time is reduced, I'm afraid that it might mean being unable to learn everything before taking those exams. If that happens, you'd have to sacrifice your weekend for make up lessons. Is that alright with you?

Shiarnui: If that's the case, it would be better to reduce what the exams cover then!

Harada: In school, there are "learning essentials." If you feel like causing problems, and ignoring the minimal learning requirements, maybe should try being a teacher. If that happens, getting passing post-secondary entrance exams will become a dream. So, Heisuke, this type of draft proposal would be something that we can't approve of.

Heisuke: EH?! Harada-sensei, how do you know that this is something that I wrote?

Harada: Think with your head, who else would have come up with such an idea. To really think that you wouldn't get found out, that sort of thinking is completely incomprehensible.

Heisuke: ergh...........

Kazama: This type of shortsightedness really suits your identities as small fry. If class time is reduced, it'd better to have the classes cancelled altogether. Final exams cannot be considered as something to worry about, if I was writing an exam, I'd be able to get a perfect score even if my eyes were closed.

Amagiri: That skill is something that only Kazama-sama has.

Shiranui: Mah... The outward appearance is [might be] human, but [I/who] don't/doesn't know how many times he's repeated the school year/about the countless times [he's] repeated the school year.

Kazama: Returning to the subject, are there any objections to this proposal? It seems that there aren't, then [we're] moving on to discuss the next proposal.

???: I've heard that many students go play at the rail station/bus stop after school. Although moderate relaxation is harmless, but isn't playing at the game centre and KTV all night, something that goes against the responsibilities that students have? In order to prevent problems from occurring, I think that students should get permission from their teacher for where they go after school beforehand. [^check video tl for this later]

——Proposed by: Saito Hajime.

Kazama: oh.....?  The proposals up until were all anonymous, it seems like draft is different. But, to have the teacher give permission approve of where one can go after school, what a stupid idea.

Saito: A stupid....... idea?! If one person disrupts the moral standards/discipline, it will cause a chain reaction. What's so stupid about a proposal to prevent that?!

Kazama: Just think about it for a little bit. Or is your brain too small so you can't [even] figure that out?

Saito: …………

Amagiri: Kazama-sama. Although it may be bold for me to act as your substitute/in your place, but may I be the one to handle this explanation?  

Kazama: Approved.

Amagiri: yes!...... saito-dono, your opinion does sound somewhat reasonable. Because the act of playing around after school is not praiseworthy. However, after studying hard in school, it is necessary for suitable entertainment to be used as an outlet for accumulated stress. Just monotonously going to and from school will affect the students ability to think independently. Only by enriching their experiences will their minds be able to grow [more literally this sentence is about experience becomes  the soil for minds to grow in... check video tl later].

Saito: But I never said anything about banning after school entertainment/recreation! I only proposed having teachers the approve of what can be done after school!

Amagiri: That will affect the students' ability to think independently. What is referred to as independence, requires individuals who think by themselves and make their own choices [says "to take action"]. I believe, that it would go against human nature, if a teacher was asked about for permission about being able to play in a certain manner [check video tl for this later]. What do you think of this perspective?

Saito: So it was like that. Just as you said. I actually proposed something that opposed Hakuo Gakuen's education policy....... I will accept this conclusion [word I have for this translates to 'reality.' check video tl later], and deeply reflect upon this.

Harada: But even though this has nothing to do with being self-reliant/independent, this sort of regulation is [would be] too harsh/strict.

Kazama: Hrm......is that worthless discussion finally over? Presumably everyone has already become tired of this sort of monotonous talk. Here is some good news. The draft I will be reading now, I will not be accepting any objections and [will be] pass[ing] it right away.

(students mumble in background)

Kazama: Hmph. I understand how you are all worrying about whether or not your proposals will be adopted. Ignorant fools! Get down on your knees/Grovel on your knees before me and pay attention to attention to what I have to say! "My wife must greet me every morning at my home. Although there will be difficulties in the implementation of this regulation, I will compromise in having my her greet me every morning in the student council room.

Hijikata: This terrible proposal, did you really think, that this wouldn't get vetoed! Don't you remember how the same draft was rejected last time!!!

Kazama: That's preposterous...... Didn't you hear me?! I remember saying "the proposal that I will be reading now, I will not be accepting any objections, and [will be] passing it right away."

Hijikata: We don't have even the slightest reason to accept the draft proposed by you! Really, originally I thought that this would be able to proceed smoothly, but I didn't expect for this to happen again. Furthermore, you need to restrain yourself, stop calling/don't call her "my wife!"

Kazama: Hrm~ I have no obligations to listen to your complaints. But....... it truly is a pity for my wife to not be here right not. If she was here, surely, she would be passionately watching me, and blushing shyly while crying tears of joy.

Souji: To be able to misunderstand to this degree, it's shocking to the point of laughter [hilarity?]. The content of this is the exactly the same as last time, and nothing's been changed.

Heisuke:  (Fortunately), ["fortunately is included in the text tl but not video tl. check audio later]It seems like that guy caught a cold, which is she isn't here today.

Harada: It's seem that you can also do something smart. Well done, Heisuke!

Heisuke: hehe, right?

Kazama: Che! Too loud! After I've announced the passing the adoption of these proposals, you all/all of you bastards [check audio] should just obediently behave......!

Amagiri: Then, read out the next proposal.

Shiranui! Oh! That looks pretty good. "I hope for winter vacation to be as long as summer vacation, please give us a month of vacation!" Summer vacation is indeed a month long, winter break is only have a month!

Amagiri: To begin with, the length of summer vacation isn't the same across the country. In colder regions with more snow, summer vacation may not be a month. On the contrary, that region's winter vacation may be relatively longer. Summer vacation was originally established for escaping the hot weather.......

Shiranui: I know, I know! I get it already! Stop talking okay?

Amagiri: No. I am not finished speaking....

Kazama: Amagiri, Shiranui! You've got some nerve to be interrupting me while I talk! This is all your fault that we've strayed away from our next topic for discussion!! The next time this happens/If this happens again, I will not spare you! Remember that/keep that in mind!

Saito: I believe that if it wasn't for your pointless proposals, the current topic of discussion wouldn't have been so derailed.

Kazama: Listen to me, no matter the objections against the following/next draft, I will still implement it! Now remember that and listen carefully!

"Female students must report to the Student Council room immediately after the bell rings for lunch. At the time [they] must also bring a hand-made bento..."

Hijikata: Veto!

Kazama: "Female students must go to the Student Council room after..."

Hijikata: Veto!

Kazama: "Female students must..."

Hijikata: Veto!

Kazama: Hijikata, if you haven't listened to everything that I've said, surely you have a reason for it [/how can you have a reason to interrupt me]?!

HIjikata: It’s because you deliberately targeted her by writing so many proposals, bastard. [alt: "because, bastard, you deliberately targeted her..." will check audio for this later]

School rules are not your toys!

Kazama: You don't understand the obvious! As Hakuo Gakuen's student council president, I am obligated to make the school rules and regulations perfect! Therefore, the current school rules must be amended with only this draft!

Souji: Saying/Having said such beautiful/pretty words, isn't he just making excuses for his wilfulness?

Saito: Because there is only one female student in the entire school.

Kazama: Keh! You bastards! Do you guys mean to do everything you can to obstruct the path of love between me and my wife!?

Heisuke: what path of love......

Harada: It goes without saying that she's not your wife! Having said that though, to say spout such nonsense without backing down in front of everyone, that courage is really admirable.

Kazama: How could I possibly give up! My wife and I have been matched by the red thread/string [of fate]! This profound bond, even if the world stands against me, I will never back down!

[While I usually see 'thread' associated with the Chinese version of this belief, I don't know if the Japanese version of it uses 'string' or 'thread'....]

Shirnaui: What red string...... this is clearly just Kazama's own unbelievable delusions and his own wishful thinking.

Amagiri: Shiranui. You cannot say that/That mustn't be said. there's no telling if a miracle will occur. [reword more formally later]

Shiranui: Ah, if the sun rises in the West and the sky rains red, perhaps that might be true.... but, I don't think it's/that's going to work/it isn't anything but hopeless.

Amagiri: Mm............

Kazama: Heh, you've said enough. No matter what you think, the final decision is in my hands. Amagiri, all the drafts that were just read have been approved.

Amagiri: But... isn't that too unreasonable?

Kazama: What's the problem. I am the the student council president. Even if the [my] methods are unreasonable, no one would dare object.

Heisuke: Who'd accept that sort of ridiculous reasoning?!

Souji: That's right, if you think that you'll be forgiven for doing whatever you want as the student council president, then you're gravely mistaken. Eh.... (goes up on stage) I see.... these were the drafts that were read right?

Kazama: What the hell are you doing bastard?

Souji: Of course doing this! (tears all the drafts)

Kazama: ...! You bastard! You two quickly help me stop him!!!

Amagiri: Kazama-sama. I do not think that those drafts are suitable to be adopted.

Shiranui: I also agree/Agreed. Say, I'm very tired can I go home now(/ Anyway I'm tired can I go home now? [2nd one sounds better])

Kazama: Not permitted...!

Hijikata: Anyway! If you continue being a nuisance, we also have our own ways to respond. I don't care about the power you have/ about the powers of the student council president, but I'd advise you to not look down upon us teachers.

Harada: That's right, Kazama. I advise you to retreat while you're still able. If this continues, those so-called rules won't be able to protect you.

Amagiri: Kazama-sama. Listen to Hijikata-sensei and Harada-sensei's advice right now. This commotion/disturbance is getting bigger, and continuing this may cause others to doubt Kazama-sama's ability as student council president.

Kazama:.....Kuh!...! Heheheheheh.... You guys, I'l remember this! The next Student Assembly, I'll show off all my power to show everyone in the world just who my wife belongs to [check video tl]! Look forward to it!

Souji:...This type of behaviour... is this what they call a "defeated dog's barking"? [if it's not this interpretation.... i'm assuming it means something like 'running away in defeat,' or 'having your tail between your legs'or 'turning tail' since this mentions a dog - 负犬远吠 in chinese. or maybe its 'barking dogs seldom bite' that was the only idiom i found that that mentioned dogs and barking that might have been in JP when browsing. either way, i'll go i'll go double check the other version of this that has been translated later].

Saito: Exactly/Absolutely/(indeed/It is).   I don't want to become like that person. /I don't want to be that kind of person, even if I walk astray/I don't want to be that kind of person, even if I'm not careful. [check video tl]

End

----------

well, this is now officially the longest thing I’ve translated... tho that won’t be the case when I get to Shinsengumi Oni-tan. i dragged this one out for a long time since it just looked like a massive wall of text in nimble... haaah thankfully all the other ssl dramas aside from “Another Chizuru?” are >15min... I think?

also no images being posted this time cuz i didn’t schedule this posting.

[kyunsies]

good morning mädch darling. how are you? well i hope. i’ve been so busy i haven’t really had the chance to chat with anyone but i wanted to stop by and say hello cause i miss ya 💞 i hope you have a great day today cause it’s friday! the weekend is here :)) love ya. 💕✨🌸

WAH good morning my sweet nessa dear!!! yeah it’s been busy hasn’t it?? but i appreciate you taking the time to come here 🥺 you know i always miss you!!! i hope next week is a little less stressful for you hun :( my clinical rotations start back up next week, only 2 more weeks for me and then done with clinicals for the semester!! have a good weekend my love, hopefully you can relax!! have you been listening to joo’s mixtape?? 🤩💘

love you lots nessa!!!!! 💘💖💞💗💕💓💝

[kay-jay8]

Heat and Warmth

It’s hot.

The sun is fading and sets low in the horizons, radiating rays of heat despite the eveningtide as they silently walk along the quiet sidewalk. Nonetheless, the dusting hues of a sunset fashioned an almost surreal scenery while they strolled home after endless hours of lessons. Honestly, islands in the middle of nowhere have the best view in the world, no matter how small of a piece of land it is. Still, even with the cool breeze that flows throughout the isle, the air seems to be getting hotter somehow, which is unusual for someone like Alibaba. Usually, this degree of warmth wouldn’t have bothered him as much as it is now. Under normal conditions, he would barely break a sweat; having been used to living in harsher and more feverish surroundings compared to Sindria’s much cooler, seaside weather. It makes him wonder if he’s adapted to his temporary home well enough to be affected by the change that came with summer slowly creeping in. Or maybe…

“Hey Alibaba.”

“Yeah?” He glances down to his right, trapped in the sight of crimson tresses dancing in gentle waves to the beat of the wind. It’s alluring how the dark locks of her hair catches the sunlight, reflecting and highlighting the deep reds of each strand. He can’t help imagining the flickering of a fire while admiring her soft scarlet hair.

“You’ll be heading back soon, right?” She asks, kicking at a few stray pebbles from under her. Her ruby eyes glow underneath the light of the sunset as she looks forward, watching the burning star silently slip away. “Back to Balbadd...back to your home.”

He takes a moment before answering, taken aback by her sudden question. “...I am.”

“It’s only for the summer. I'll be back a few days before the new semester begins, so I don’t really have to worry about getting caught up with the academy like I had to the year before. I’ll have plenty of time before then. Isn’t that great, Morg? I’ll have a couple of days to hang with you and Aladdin before lessons start up again.” He grins at her, giving her hand intertwined in his a light squeeze.

Morgiana returns his gesture, the tips of her ears turning a rosey pink as she does so.

“Balbadd, what’s it like?”

“Beautiful. When you enter the city, the people there are so alive and cheerful that it makes everything bright and dazzling. They’re kind, they’ll greet you with all sorts of imported trinkets that I just know you’d like. Of course, it’s crowded and people are always in a rush, plus it can get pretty chaotic at times, but, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Street markets are constantly bursting with life, filled to the brim with clothes and foods and all these amazing things from all over the world! Man, I wish you could see it! Nothing is more worthwhile than seeing the people of my country flourishing.”

She listens to him intently, her gemstone orbs sparkling in amazement as he describes his homeland to her. Alibaba can hardly contain his own excitement while reciting memories of the Kingdom of Balbadd.

“That’s why, one day, I want you to be able to see it for yourself, Morgiana.”

They’ve long since stopped walking, paused on the side of the quiet road. There are faint crashes of waves against rocks, the sound of the sea's distinctive call.

“What do you say? When you’ve graduated from Sindria’s Academy and grown a bit more, would you come and see the Kingdom of Balbadd with me?”

“I-I...wah.” She stutters, speechless and wide-eyed. She’s stunned, which is a given. Afterall, an orphan like herself could only dream of traveling to a place as great as Balbadd and with the third prince of the country, no less.

“And I won’t be escorting you as Alibaba Saluja the Crowned Prince of Balbadd, but as Alibaba, son of Anise.”

“Don’t feel pressured to accept, Morg.” He continues, reaching out his hand to wipe away the stray tears that fall from her lashes. “I’m sorry. I'm just being a little selfish. I didn’t mean to make you cry Morgiana, I just wanted you to see how wonderful my country is with your own eyes. It’s enough that, for now, you’re by my side.”

“For now.” She repeats his words, staring into his caramel gaze. “How long will ‘for now’ last? You’ve been crowned the next heir of Balbadd, Alibaba. How long can this go on before it ends? Alibaba, you are a prince with duties and responsibilities that I could never pretend to comprehend. Just how are we going to work when you become king? I have neither the noble blood and the influence to be able to stay by your side.”

“That doesn’t matter, I will find a way for us.”

“And what if you can’t?”

He is silent, he isn’t sure whether it is due to the fact he had no answer for her or that Morgiana, who is always full of determination and hope, is now looking at him with such a hopelessness in her eyes. It hurts him to see her like this, knowing he is the cause of the loss of the gleam in her gaze. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll have an answer for us if that time ever comes, but I will find a way. No matter what.”

“Alibaba…”

He can’t look her in the eye as he pulls her forward into his arms, engulfing her in his larger frame. As a prince, he had a duty to fulfill to both his country and his people. So, giving up the crown was not an option, the both of them knew that much. But he was very much willing and ready to if Morgiana had only let him when his father first announced his crowning.

“Let’s go home for now.” Alibaba finally says after a moment, releasing Morgiana from his hug. “I’m sure Aladdin’s waiting for us.”

“Yeah...okay.”

Her hand is cool when he takes it into his own as he continues to lead them to Sinbad’s palace.

It’s dark and there is no trace of the sun in the blanket of twilight dusk, but the heat of the sunlight still remains.

things to note:

this is set in a au. which one? im not sure about that myself lol

alibaba's older brothers are no long inline for succession to the throne due to the exact reasons the previous king of Balbadd had mentioned before his death in the anime/manga. (Ahbmad having been taken down and Sahbmad stepping down from position as potential kings)

alibaba and morgiana are together in this fic

Sindria is still a kingdom ruled under Sinbad (alibaba staying with him as the son of a dear friend, while Morgiana is Masrur's adopted niece)

the academy is a institution of learning for future leaders and anyone with the potential of becoming leaders. Sinbad created this school to keep count of and make connections with different countries as well as their future rulers

morgiana is only able to attend because she is Masrur's niece

alimor's relationship is a secret, give or take a few friend who know about it

alibaba is in Sindria to learn and grow to be a better king (was sent by his father)

anise is still dead

kassim/cassim is still alive, but is one of the reasons why alibaba was sent to Sindria

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! :)

also: check out my other works @Kay_jay88