#I mean it has jewels so it’s not like plastic or anything

[rosicheeks]

17. an earliest obsession you remember?

Always been obsessed with crowns 👑

[marzipanandminutiae]

I do believe the hunger games books do fall into the femininity thing. Katniss doesn't describe the shape of the Capital's buildings but she does say that they're all the colours of artificial candy.

And Capital fashion in the books is even more outlandish than the films, with jewels embedded in people's skin, whiskers in people's cheeks, people dye their skin green or tiger-striped.

Yeah, so, I don't think the books do much better on the "Does being a girl make you part of the Bourgeoisie."

I still like em though.

Yikes. I forgot that part. All of those things are unironically awesome and it's bold of the books to assume "respectable" mainstream rich people have done anything that cool with fashion in a long time.

Well, it's been a hard-wired trope in a lot of media for over 200 years at this point. I suppose we're bound to still fall victim to it sometimes. But it remains annoying.

I mean, imagine how cool a mostly colorless, sleek, ultra-modern Capitol would have looked contrasted with districts full of folk art (which has always been a thing, since humans always love art and creativity) that are visually beaten but not totally broken. That still have some joy and individuality to express in the face of oppression- which the Capitol writes off as "tacky" or "childish." Warm woodwork and bricks against cold plexiglass and steel. Old buildings with surviving stained glass, crumbling but still standing, against impersonal skyscrapers. Mended, treasured objects made of natural materials against disposable plastic.

I'd love to see it.

[im-a-matt-girl]

Omg one where Matt purposes to the reader

i hope you like this ♡

We are walking through the mall together, and as we pass by the jeweler, you say, "Hey, can we go in here for a little bit? I think I want to buy my mom some jewelry for Christmas."

"Sure," I say, following you as you lead me by my hand into the store. The sparkle throughout the room is almost overwhelming. I love admiring shiny things, but I'm not used to actually wearing jewelry.

You look at the necklaces while a staff member comes over to help us. "Welcome in," he says to us. "Are we looking for anything in particular today?"

"Nah, just looking around," you tell him with a nervous yet polite smile.

The staff member nods and walks away.

"I thought you said you wanted something for your mom?" I ask you.

"I mean, yeah," you correct yourself. "I think I can find it on my own, though. Why don't you go look at stuff you want?"

I raise my eyebrows in shock. "I don't know if I want anything from here," I say, perplexed.

"Here, show me what ring you like," you say, guiding me over to the case of rings.

I peer at all of the rings in the case. There are a lot of pretty ones, but I can't stop looking at the pink sapphire one; it's heart-shaped with tiny diamonds all around it. It's perfect. It has the number "6" on its tag. I wonder if that's the size.

I look up on top of the counter, and there is a plastic sheet with holes cut into it, representing the different ring sizes. Just out of pure curiosity, I slide my left ring finger into the hole marked "6."

It fits perfectly.

I gasp for joy. "What is it?" you ask me.

"Do you see that ring right there?" I ask you, pointing to the white gold ring with the pink sapphire on it that I've been eyeing.

"Yeah," you nod, looking at me expectantly.

"That's my favorite," I explain. "And look, it would fit me!" I beam excitedly, holding up my finger in the measuring tool.

The staff member smiles knowingly at us. "She's telling you what she wants," he says to you.

"Alright," you tell him. "We'll take it."

I am stunned. Speechless. Flabbergasted. I can't think straight. "But… I thought we were here to buy something for your mom…" I stammer.

You giggle at me. "Well, I want to get you something, too," you admit, blushing slightly.

I hug you tightly. "Thank you," I breathe. I feel so grateful. Then I realize how expensive it is, and I pull away and look at you. "Are you sure? You don't have to get it for me…"

"I want to," you tell me, looking into my eyes sincerely.

You hold onto the ring until we get home. I feel giddy just thinking about the ring, and I can't wait to wear it. It's so cute!

When we get home, you're still holding the ring in a tiny, velvet, black box. I can hardly contain myself. "Can I put it on?" I ask you excitedly.

You smirk at me. "Actually… I wanted to be the one to put it on you," you confess.

"Oh… why?" I ask, oblivious.

"Because," you say, taking the ring out of the box and kneeling down on one knee. "I want you to marry me. Will you marry me?"

I look at you, and suddenly the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Tears flood my eyes, and I can't move.

You delicately take my hand in yours, carefully sliding the ring onto my left ring finger.

"Yes, Matthew," I whisper.

[studywgabi]

Piercings

I can't remember my first, but I know it was the most common type, the one precisely in the center of my lobe, meant to hold a hoop, and done when I was a few days old. My white friends are always surprised to hear this, because they had to beg their moms for months, maybe years, and promise to do all their chores and homework. But the nurses who delivered my mom did it for her before my grandmother left the delivery room, along with that trademark mandala scar on her left arm.

My body has always been a separate entity to me, something that wouldn't have to be my fault. If I distanced myself from it, insulted it before anyone else could and made my hatred of it clear, then no one could get angry with me for the way I looked. No one could wonder if I didn't have any friends to tell me that dress made me look fat, or if my mother had never shown me how to do my makeup, or how I could possibly leave the house looking like that. I insulated myself from criticism by making sure everyone knew no matter how ugly they thought I was, I thought I was uglier. No one could say anything to me I didn't already know about myself.

I've been at war with the body all my life. Diets were my tanks, tweezers were my guns, and pain was the sweet satisfaction of a battle fiercely fought and rightfully won, a small relief from the knowledge that the war would continue tomorrow morning, and every morning after that. It was almost like a game, seeing how far I could push myself, how much I could take, how long I could keep working through exhaustion. This body has never belonged to me.

My second was my belly button, my eighteenth birthday present from my father, who nearly wept in the waiting room. Don't tell your mother, even though she has two more in her right ear from a needle and an ice cube.

I wasn't really scared of the pain. I mean, it was going to hurt, there was no getting around that. But my piercer didn't react to the hair on my stomach, to the shape of it, to the mismatched color with my face and arms. Diamonds are a girl's best friend.

My third was that bigfatbeautiful nose. I used to save up my allowance in my piggy bank to get a nose job when I was 18, and wish that somebody would beat me up or that I would have an issue breathing so that I could get free plastic surgery. I used to hope that harm would come to me so that I could be beautiful. Now, I want to decorate the part of my body I used to despise the most. I want to draw attention to it, make it the first thing people notice about me. It may not be a perfect nose, but it’s the only one I’ve got, and I’m going to take care of it from now on.

My fourth will be those thin, pale lips. My lips. My fifth? My sixth? I'll keep going until I run out of things a licensed professional is willing to pierce.

I like the pain, the reminder of what I had done that lasts for a couple of days, that they're there, my jewels, my decisions, that I am real and alive. I always feel so aware of them, so happy, so myself.

The piercings are the one and only thing to date I've done involving my body that wasn't because my parents or my therapist or a man or a magazine told me I should. It's not a revolution, it's nothing new, it's not going to save me, but god, it sure does look cool.

[chim-aera]

I no longer wish to be good

I think I'm tired of being good.

no, not that way, morality is a distant, dizzy thing laced tight with both bias and betterment, no, what I mean to say is I'm tired of trying to be something, anything, that isn't myself.

I lose myself, a race I've always fled into, bleeding into a blur, into cracks, into concrete, until I feel my knees shake and shatter, creaking and crunching beneath my skin like orange peels holding cracking walnut shells.

I've always been this way, well, most of my life. I've gotten good at shaking off my skins to slip all the ugly, bitter, screaming, sobbing little parts of me away between book pages, among lyrics, along clothes wires, and silk seams, and makeup too dark like muddy earth, with shimmering facets along a dirty canvas, scarred, and scheming, brittle and bony, too soft, too old, too young. never, never enough.

I'm so good at running from myself. call me Atalanta, for not even a golden fruit dripping in nectar and ambrosia can stop this madness, this terror, this cowardice.

I try to stare into the mirror without wanting to curl into my ribcage and never come back out. I'm all sharp teeth and shining jewels wrapped tight around my throat like a noose until it bruises, I'm always losing, but at this point I'm not even sure what game it is were playing. I've never know. hopscotch or old maid? I've always been good at checkers I wanted to learn chess but the movements and the pieces slipped out through the cracks in my mind and I'm left holding a pawn and looking down at it in pity.

I will never become a queen.

the cold piece of plastic looks back up at me too, and murmurs softly in the quiet echo of my insanity,

"no, you wont.-

-but would you even want to be?"

I've tried lacing myself into other roles scenarios, acts.

frivolent and follied, soft, sensitive, brash and choking back laughs that if you listen close enough to you'll realize they are sobs. I'm selfish, gods in selfish, I don't want to be.

I'd slip out my spine if someone asked me nice enough but it isnt kindness, is it? How I truly, desperately want to be kind but it's a sordid self destruction.

I want to run, I've always been the victim because I refuse to be whats worse, so if I go quietly a sacrifical lamb all soft and placid led by the collar I will be as far away from what those who made me like this are.

I want to feel again, gods I'm so empty, and aching.

when I was little before I was fractured into a million tiny fragments I was color, all bright hues saturated and shining, but then I grew muted placing aside and organizing every little shard like Kronos rebuilding himself from scratch.

I tried dying myself in turqoise, soaking myself in satin, anything, just to be interesting, not hollow, hollow, hollow.

I've never fallen in love, not truly. love hurts like an aching wound I'm so tired if trying to force myself to feel or feel less.

soft lips and tender caresses only dawn has pressed her lips to my forehead not even Night wants me anymore.

I miss my grandmother, I miss my cat, I miss myself.

I'm tired of running, goddamnit all.

I want to accept what I am, a broken poet, I want to read, let my hair be fine and frizzy, and the awful muddy hue it is, my skin pallid and poked with scars and pores, my dead eyes searching upwards how I've always dreamed of being lovely but I am perpetually hiding behind allegories, and coat sleeves never letting anyone close yet sobbing into myself when no one manages to ever truly see me.

I don't even know what I am, but I want to live, I've wasted too much time I live in the past by a lopsided hourglass how do I wake from this nightmare?

I dont have things terrible but I'm tired of waking and sleeping and falling and failing in this same redudant pattern.

I want to fall, and fail, and forget about whatever sorry means of perfection I could never reach.

I want to be unapologetic, and sensitive, sharp and soft, studious and unruly. I want to be, to be, to be.

I want moonlit drives and strawberry ice cream and dandelion crowns and stars mapling out like freckles on your cheeks I want soft hands and tender bruising kisses I want chapped lips and bloody knuckles, scraped knees and willow trees, acorn hats and tabby cats, saplings and sunshine, golden jewelery and golden hair, laughter and weeping, lying in a sun puddle on a carpeted floor, the scent of dust and freedom, trying, flying, searching but not fleeing gods I want to live.

I want to be.

whatever the hell I am.

I'm really tired of being good.

[nazuna-tunnel-vision]

I saw your tags and I wanna say RitsuMao (I think that's the ship?) is the perfect ship for hanahaki in the way which you described.

Also, interestingly enough, I have written a hanahaki fic from the person who is on the receiving end of the crush, in a frustrated "why can't I return the feeling???" And not wanting to lose the friendship way.

So anyway I think that's a great angle to pursue and it's very big brain of you.

YESS thank you for the validation, this AU has been eating at my brains for a year but i'm just not very good at writing actual stories rather than just analysis so. it stayed in my brain.

yeah it is ritsumao and oh boy ritsumao with the flower actually removed would be a riot. they're childhood friends and so much of their identities are rooted in the relationship, so losing the relationship would destabilise the both of them so much.

to Make Things Worse ☺️✌️ in my AU, i made the surgery remove memories related to the person altogether rather than just feelings (although tbh it's also bc i never quite understood how you can "remove feelings" without fundamentally making the memory stop making sense. aren't memories a key way in which people make sense of the world and remember things?)

and this makes the story veer into exploring how one's memories and relationships with others kind of. makes you who you are. which a lot of hanahaki stories don't really explore.

that means ritsu just Forgets about mao and loses years worth of accumulated memories and self-narratives about how he became who he was. how did he manage rei's broken promise, who did he cling to? apart from chasing after rei, who made him want to 'enter the sunlight'? post-surgery ritsu would be a very different and a very confused person.

and considering how so much of their relationship was Just The Two Of Them (thanks ritsu), mao would have no one who shares so many of his memories. they'll probably find random trinkets all over their houses that either only mao or neither of them remembers the significance of. some matching keychains they got from an event. a pen with one of those plastic jewels that's the colour of mao's eyes, which ritsu used to like a lot but now just throws it away bc it's out of ink. maybe some random thing of mao's that ritsu stole when he was 6 because of some convoluted reasoning and jealousy, and which he never returned. and when they rediscover it mao is like "wtf i've been trying to find it for YEARS, why do you have this," and ritsu can only reply with "i dunno."

mao also can no longer use ritsu for the. to give himself self-esteem in his role as someone ritsu needs, or whatever codependent shit they have going on. he'll just have that pretty important aspect of the maintenance of his identity and self-image ripped from him because the flower is arophobic.

i just think ritsumao with the hanahaki surgery would just be rly tragic bc rtmo are the kind of friends who would want more than anything and who would do everything they can to ensure the other stays in their lives. or rather, they've been with each other for so long that they also don't actually need to bend over backwards to maintain their relationship. even when something does happen, i think they generally understand each other and value the other enough to resolve things sooner rather than later.

i think the both of them would choose not to have the hanahaki development in the first place if it meant that they could continue as they have always been. ritsu would never want to guilt trip mao with hanahaki (!! era at least, and not to make mao actually feel like shit for longer than a few hours at most). and mao would want to give ritsu what he wants as is usual but be unable to. so they're both absolutely miserable! falls face flat on ground.

anyway i can't believe i rambled this much but. after writing all that out i read that fic you wrote and. slams fist on wall and cries, you get it!!!!!! i don't know a thing about these two but oughhhhh. !!!!!!

(for anyone else who has somehow read to this point and who also has brainworms for Best Friend with Hanahaki, read it here before i spoil it below with my quoting)

the way Hak's first reaction is to do everything he can to solve things and his fear of losing 12 years of friendship. 12 years of memories. Their entire lives together. That was the price of getting it removed. while Soowon goes “But what if you find someone you have feelings for?” Soowon asked, “it’s not really fair for you to be bound to me this way.” and “Love” was too heavy a word to impose upon his friend

ohhhh my god. oh my god. It frustrated Hak, every time Soowon coughed up another flower and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t make it stop. Why couldn’t he make it stop?

it's the mutual love and care for the other!!!! screaming.

and the way Soowon just slowly fades away and Hak's heart breaks watching it happen. The way Hak finally says "I love you" and the way Soowon says "I know" and yet it doesn't do a thing because the flower is stupid and only cares about romantic love.

euggg this dynamic of hanahaki is really so interesting and real. i'm so glad you brought up your fic bc i have been trying for so long to find a hanahaki story like this. i get that the hanahaki haver's POV of keeping the illness and their feelings is dramatic and heartwrenching and all, but at the end of the day it's more or less just a more dramatised version of their already existing pining. the perspective of the one being loved, and of two friends trying and failing to save their relationship, is so unexplored in comparison. like these stories would require some very healthy, open communication, and yet somehow that is still not enough and that otherwise perfect relationship gets destroyed

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Snowflakes and berries at the Nightingale Nebula

It’s winter berry season at the Nightingale Nebula, so us campers are meeting up with the Epiphany to try their seasonal berries as well as enjoy the snowy season. Maybe it seems kinda weird that we’re eating ice cream in the cold, but it’s surprisingly fitting. There’s a reason why these berries are a well known local specialty after all!

The berries that are in season right now are limboberries, clamshells, ameplums, and milky citrus. Limboberries are the most common and can be used in a lot of different things. There’s seasonal specialties like limboberry jam and limboberry milk tea, and it’s often used in pastries. The taste is sort of like a cross between a raspberry and sweet grape. When you freeze the berries, the flavor improves by a lot as it really brings out the sweetness. Seriously, there is such a huge difference between frozen and not frozen.

Clamshells are the second most popular and it’s named that because they’re literally shaped like that. I have seen a lot of people take pictures with them because they do look so unusual, like it’s unreal. Seriously, they look kinda like those plastic beads that sometimes comes in fun shapes like seashells. As for the taste, it’s sweet with hints of a citrusy tartness to balance things out. You can eat it fresh or as ice cream, which is often served in a brioche bun.

Ameplums is basically amethyst and plum because of its pretty purple color. They really do kinda look like gems, especially when chilled as they become super shiny, almost like sparkly. These berries are really sweet - like candy sweet - so unless you like that, you need to freeze them. Basically the opposite of limboberries. They’re used exclusively for desserts and sweet wine.

Finally, there’s milky citrus, which is an unusual berry that’s citrusy and milky. I don’t know why, but I find the flavor kinda weird. I mean, creamsicles are a thing, though I don’t think this tasted anything like that, more like someone poured milk into a glass of orange juice. Maybe that’s not the best way of describing it. Anyway, I don’t exactly dislike it, especially in ice cream where the milkiness shines, but I wouldn’t gravitate towards it for anything else.

As for the Epiphany Crew, quite a bit has happened since I last saw them. The main thing is that Jewel’s recovered and chose to stick with the crew, which Laufey and Landry are happy about. I was worried about her after we just barely saved her from sinking to the bottom of the Mosaic. In terms of physical recovery, she’s not quite out of the woods yet, though it’s nothing too serious that would leave lasting complications. As for the mental and emotional, it’s safe to say that she’s doing a lot better, but it’s also complicated. Just gotta take it one day at a time.

Jewel revealed a bit about what had happened that led to her walking into the river. She said her sense of time after serving her prison sentence has become a bit hazy, most likely because she stopped caring about pretty much everything by that point. From what she can remember, she ended up blowing almost her entire fortune for various reasons, the legal stuff basically being the final nail in the coffin. I recall Laufey mentioning that as a debt collector she was pretty loaded and took pride in that, so to find out that Jewel later became destitute was a shock for her.

Although Jewel had some emergency savings stashed away by the time she was released, she either gambled it all away, or it just wasn’t enough to keep her afloat. Either way, she just aimlessly wandered to various places until she completely ran out of money and began living out on the streets. Sometime later, she started feeling sick and instead of getting better, she realized that she was getting worse. And since she couldn’t afford to get medicine, Jewel felt that her death was inevitable and decided to speed things up.

It’s a good thing we saw her when we did, or else Jewel wouldn’t be here today. She had been hoping to see me again so she can thank me in person and apologize for the trouble, which she didn’t have to, but she insisted. I mean, she was a low point and we saw her falling. Maybe some people would rather turn away when someone’s sinking, even if they’re right next to them, but I don’t think I can do that. If I saw someone falling and they’re within my reach, I would try to help them, do whatever I can within reason to stop them from falling to the void. That’s the least I can do.

After she got pulled out of the water, Jewel spent about 8 days in the ICU because of pneumonia. Since she had been ill for a while and being submerged exacerbated things, the doctors were worried about potential complications. Her lungs and heart are okay, thankfully, but she said there’s apparently some issues with her kidneys that should hopefully resolve itself. So she’s been going in for regular checkups and she’s slowly regaining her strength.

As for how things are for her emotionally and mentally, Jewel summed up her ordeal by saying she fucked up big time. Just as Landry suspected, Jewel began going through an existential crisis after the Acapella incident, which led to her demotion. Back then, she was a ruthless debt collector who was willing to play dirty to get the job done, even if it means ruining other people’s livelihoods over matters that have absolutely nothing to do with the present. The way she and her former colleagues saw it, being a debt collector was a necessary job to keep the economy going, which allowed them to sort of detach themselves and see people as numbers rather than actual people. Not really a nice way of viewing the world in my opinion.

Jewel herself had a reputation for being two faced and admits to being good at backstabbing to the point that it scares her. The incident at Acapella and her subsequent demotion made her realize what she was becoming and she hated herself for it. That’s why she went down the path of self sabotage. Even if she didn’t get fired, the Interstellar Factions debt collector department shut down anyway because it was inherently a corrupt system - and according to Jewel, they probably went bankrupt with all their legal troubles they’ve built up over the centuries.

Having been a debt collector for pretty much her whole life, which she explained as predetermined fate, and revolving her whole life around that, Jewel didn’t know what else to do after getting fired. She can’t go into detail for legal reasons, but she basically joined some sort of gang/cult and got into even more trouble. Then things escalated to the point where she finally got arrested and imprisoned.

When she woke up in the hospital, Jewel admitted that she was disappointed. Laufey said she was listless, kind of like a robot on autopilot. Fionna said it was the same for her when she woke up from her coma. You expect the sweet release of death only to find yourself pinned rock bottom and forced to live with the fact that you’re alive - meaning, you have no choice but to face the consequences of your decisions.

They say that dying is considered an easy way out, but is it really?

The crew held a meeting and it was pretty much unanimous that they wanted to take in Jewel if she had nowhere to go. While Jewel didn’t refuse, she questioned why they cared about what happened to her. The way she saw it, she didn’t deserve to be alive, though she also didn’t want to come across as ungrateful to those who risked their lives to save hers. Landry made it pretty clear that the offer wasn’t a transactional thing and that she should only accept because it’s what she wants, not because she felt that she owed them. In other words, she has to decide for herself, not what she thinks will make others happy.

Having been in the same position herself, it makes sense that Fionna would be able to reach out to Jewel. Although she wasn’t actively suicidal, Fionna was at such a low point where she didn’t care whether she lived or died because her troubles were piling on and she didn’t know what to do. Instead of dealing with their problems, they ignore them, preferring to run away rather than admit their mistakes. It’s a dangerous downwards spiral that’s difficult to get yourself out of, especially because you don’t realize that you’re in trouble until you’re in too deep. To some, they fall into this trap that they’re always doomed to fail because it seems like there’s no way out of this mess.

That said, even if it seems endless, and even when you yourself caused your own misfortune, your troubles will eventually pass. To quote a certain fortune teller, “Bad times are just times that are bad.” Sure, your problems won’t go away overnight, but no matter how bad a situation is, there will always be some sort of solution. Of course, depending on the situation, you have to work at it, and that’s often easier said than done. Some people just don’t want to work at it, preferring an easy way out so they probably don’t have to think too much about the consequences of their actions.

Fionna was given two choices when she woke up, which were, to put simply, live or die. At the time, she reluctantly chose to live, not just by breathing, but also by rebuilding her life from the ground up. She’s emphasized that she got lucky with things like a reduced sentence in a prison that’s actually more like a rehabilitation center, along with a good support system that really wanted her to pick herself up again. It became clear to her later on why they chose to send her there rather than some actual prison, and she’s grateful to them for that.

Even after serving her sentence, Fionna chose to stay as a staff member because she found meaning in her life over there and wanted to help others like they did for her. She might have overstayed her time there, but that’s another story. She mentioned that she was a flighty person back then, which contributed to her inability to put much effort into things because she just didn’t see the point. In other words, when the going gets rough, she gets going in the opposite direction.

It seems like Fionna’s heart to heart did Jewel a lot of good. She admits that she’s still on the fence about whether or not she wants to live, so she’s taking Fionna’s advice and playing it by ear. Laufey noted that after that talk, Jewel began acting more like her old - real - self and her recovery drastically improved. Her reasoning was along the lines of “I’m tired of fucking things up, I just want to do something right for once.”, which I think is a good reason to keep on going. Take control of your life rather than have it control you.

Along with the berries, there was another reason why the Epiphany’s visiting the Nightingale Nebula. A couple years ago, one of Della’s friends was murdered and her case had been unresolved until now. However, there’s been speculations that have been going around for a while that one of Della’s former superiors from the Eagle Stellarons is responsible. It wasn’t until during a recent fight with her old man that he accidentally revealed some things about the former captain that could potentially open up a can of worms, so to speak.

Della’s friend was basically killed for criticizing the Eagle Stellarons. As for how she met Della, it started out as an online friendship, then they found out that they weren’t too far from each other, so started hanging out in person. Marina was the one who opened Della’s eyes to her faction’s glaring faults and it was clear that her colleagues did not like that.

According to Yang and Della, it wasn’t like Marina was strongly opposed to the Eagle Stellarons, nor was she trying to be an activist, she just had some opinions and wasn’t afraid to voice them online. She didn’t have any ties to certain organizations or higher ups, she was just an ordinary person from an ordinary family, so the chances of her murder being a random occurrence was highly likely.

Since Marina was her only friend outside of the Eagle Stellarons, it makes sense why Della wanted to get to the bottom of this. She had a nagging feeling that she might have been responsible, though she couldn’t figure out why. She tried to reach out to Marina’s family, but aside from her mother, the other family members didn’t see the point in trying to get closure, which she doesn’t blame them for.

And not surprisingly, her colleagues were saying things along the lines of, “Why do you care about some nobody?” I think the appropriate response would be along the lines of, “Because they are somebody, someone who was once living and breathing just like we were.” Believe it or not, we do mean something to at least one person - it’s not like we exist in a vacuum.

So it turns out that Della’s former captain is a fucking creep for various reasons, and he apparently might be a serial killer. Damn. Della said he could never take criticism well, but she didn’t think he would resort to silencing those who he didn’t see eye to eye with. Out of all his known victims, only two aren’t affiliated with the Eagle Stellarons in any way - he only found out Marina and the other person through stalking his subordinates on social media.

There’s obviously a lot more to it, but Della has no interest in finding out more. She never saw eye to eye with him on pretty much anything, not to mention that he was often bullying and harassing her. Whatever happens to him, she doesn’t care as long as he rots in hell while his victims get the justice they deserve.

Now with that out of the way, Della’s been working up the courage to visit Marina’s mother again, preferably with the two of them alone. She was understandably hesitant because of her ties with the Eagle Stellarons, which is understandable. After all, around these parts the view of the Eagle Stellarons were somewhere between neutral and somewhat critical.

While we got a head start on picking berries, she went off on her own. A couple hours later around lunchtime she returned in much better spirits. Marina’s mother was alone and she was understanding of the whole situation, as well as grateful that Della came all this way to see her. As it turns out, she had been following the news of the Stellarons downfall and was aware that Della played a role in that. Now that’s one less thing weighing on her shoulders.

The berry picking was a lot of fun! Since they grow on really tall trees, we have to ride towering snowbeasts to reach the branches! Just as the name implies, they are massive! You have to get on a super tall platform into order to get on, and for a shorty like me, I needed a small ladder to get a bit of a boost. Along with being tall, they’re also wide enough to seat two people as well as small baskets for us to collect the berries.

As for the view up above, it was amazing! I was afraid that since we were on an animal it was gonna be wobbly, but it’s surprisingly steady. Obviously you can feel the platform move when it walks, and even then it’s not too terrifying. Plus, we have to stop to pick berries. It was a little scary being so close to the branches because you’re basically screwed if we move and something gets caught. Fortunately, nothing of that sort happened and it didn’t take long for me to get used to it.

Overall, it’s a totally unique experience that I would highly recommend if you’re comfortable with heights, as well as getting up close and personal with a bunch of trees, which I think is worth it for the berries they have to offer!

Read on AO3

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

452 of 2023

1- Are you a lefty or a righty?

Kinda ambidextrous. Back to leaning lefty, though.

2- What show(s) are you watching at the moment?

Keeping Up Appearances. I love this show, it's hilarious. Soon there's gonna be Allo Allo, and I love it equally much.

3- Are your earlobes attached or unattached?

Unattached and I hate it. Attached are much more aesthetically pleasing.

4- Is there any food you eliminated from your diet but miss eating?\what is it?

Coffee. My brain reacts badly to sudden caffeine shots and it stops my meds from working. This means no coffee, unless I opt for decaf.

5- Are you outgoing, introverted or somewhere in between?

Between, and I like it.

6- If you look to the right of you, what's one thing you see?

Dining table.

7- What's one show you remember watching from your childhood?

Smurfs.

8- Do you cry often?

I don't cry at all.

9 - Can you watch a horror movie at night by yourself with the lights off?

Ew, movies are lame. I have better things to waste my time on.

10- Do you play an instrument?

No, I don't. You need two working hands for that.

11- What's your top 3 favorite accents?

West-Flemish (yes I'm biased), Amsterdam Dutch, and British from England, if we speak about English language.

12- What's your favorite season?

Summer because long days. The downside is that I barely tolerate the heat, it makes me feel dizzy.

13- What is your favorite hair style on a guy?

Whatever suits him.

14- What is your favorite hair style on a girl?

Whatever suits her.

15- At what age do YOU consider someone to finally be an adult?

Adulthood has no age, apparently. Someone might be in their 40s and still act like a kid, and someone may be 16 and more mature for their age.

16- What's your ring size?

6. My wedding ring is so small that my husband can't even put it on the very tip of his pinky. I have really thin fingers, though.

17- Who is better - Spiderman or Batman?

Both are lame, thanks.

18- Do you\did you study enough in school?

I did, I have two diplomas.

19- Disney or Pixar films?

No, thanks.

10- Do you like to eat popcorn while watching a movie?

I don't even waste my time on movies.

11- What is the last movie you saw?

Jesus what's with all these movie questions? The most boring subject ever.

12- Do you believe there is life on other planets?

There must be, the universe is way too big.

13- What's the happiest memory you have?

Getting a permanent contract at work.

14- What's your favorite name?

Joris.

15- Do you play video games?

No, I don't. Yet another boring subject.

16- How often do you read?

All the time. Sometimes several books at once.

17- Do you like the Kardashians?

I genuinely don't care.

18- Do you think babies are cute?

Ew. Toddlers are cute, though.

19- Do you swear?

I do, nothing to be proud of XD

20- Are you sitting or lying down right now?

Sitting on the couch, going to bed soon.

21- Paper or plastic?

Whatever is more resistant.

22- Did you ever get stung by a jellyfish?

No, thankfully. Raised at the sea, I could have the possibility XD

23- Did you ever make smores over a fire?

I don't even know what smores is.

24- Do you burn easily in the sun?

Too easily.

25- What's the last game you played on your phone?

Jewel Slide, it's my current favourite.

26- If someone was in line in front of you at the store but they were short $3 and you had the extra cash , would you help them out or let it go?

I would help. I'm not Dutch enough :P

27- Werewolves or Vampires?

Nope, it's lame. Can I choose werecats?

28- What's the weather like where you are right now?

It's dark outside as it's 21:32 right now and it's September, but the whole day it was hot and sunny.

29- Do you collect anything?

Yeah. Pens, notebooks, keyrings, postcards, fridge magnets.

30- (if you wear Tampons)Did you ever sneeze or cough and have your tampon fall out?

N/A.

31- Would you rather go without your phone for a week or go without your hearing(apologies if you are deaf)?

What a question lol.

32- Do feet gross you out?

Ew yeah. They look ugly and they stink sometimes.

33- What's a vegetable you don't like?

Cucumber. Literally the only one veggie I don't like.

34- Are you afraid of heights?

Kind of.

35- Did you ever see the film Hook?

No, and I'm not interested.

[luminousvision]

The Queen

I stood in front of the high school, waiting to go home. My younger brother Shawn sat farther down the curb, talking to his friends. Mom and dad dropped us off this morning before heading to the airport, saying Auntie Li would take care of us for the week. They disappeared on these mysterious vacations several times a year. Shawn and I had long since stopped asking where they went because they’d never tell us. They never took pictures or brought anything back that would let us into their secret. We need a few mom-and-dad things, they said.

Auntie Li never hid anything. Even when we were little, she told us Uncle died from colon cancer. If you feel something, say something, she said. Auntie Li explained medical bills and college tuition to us from her small apartment with mismatched furniture. Money is for the important things, she said. I later asked my parents about it, who told me I was being rude.

I saw Auntie Li’s ancient Honda idling in line. I grabbed Shawn, pointed to the car, and waved to Auntie Li, who smiled excitedly and waved back. The passenger seat was occupied by a large plastic filing box and a stack of papers on top of it, so we piled into the back seats. Her car didn’t have automatic windows and smelled like decade-old shampoo.

“Thanks for picking us up, Auntie Li,” Shawn said.

“You should ask our parents for the keys to the Audi,” I offered. “If they give you the house, they might as well give you the car.”

“It’s so good to see you both again,” Auntie Li said. “And I don’t need another car—this one gets us around just fine. Anyway, how was your day at school?”

“Oh yeah, you won’t believe what Marcie gave me today!” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a glistening crystal the size of my thumbnail. “Can you believe this is a diamond?”

Auntie Li squinted into the rear-view mirror. “Are you sure that’s a diamond?”

“I don’t believe that. That has to be fake,” Shawn said, as he reached over. I let him take it.

“Marcie says she can give it to me because it’s not worth anything. Her dad makes artificial diamonds. Apparently sometimes they grow defective high-pressure centers that will eventually cause it to shatter like glass. Jewelers can see right through it so you can’t trick them.”

“How long will it stay together?” Shawn asked, squinting at it with one eye.

“Marcie said it could be weeks or even years. Nobody can tell. But it eventually breaks.”

“Imagine if someone proposed with to you with a diamond ring like that,” Auntie said.

“That’d be a ticking time bomb for our marriage,” I said. We all laughed. I took the diamond back from Shawn and put it one of the small pockets in my backpack and zipped it shut.

“So, who is our guest here?” Shawn asked. Even though he sat right behind the passenger seat, he could see the papers piled as tall as a whole person. I couldn’t believe it hadn’t fallen over already.

“Sorry about the mess. This is all of grandpa’s papers. He left a lot of knots behind, which have kept me busy over the last two months.” Auntie sighed and gave a short laugh. “Well, he stays with us just a little bit longer, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Legal, financial—debts mostly. It can get really complicated when you don’t actually own your stuff. He still had a loan on the car and the house. I didn’t know how messy it was until I inherited the papers.”

“He lived in that house forever. How did he not pay off the loan?”

“Ever heard of a reverse mortgage? You sell a part of your house back to the bank. I told him not to, but I guess he did it anyway.”

Even until just a few years ago, we’d join grandpa on week-long cruises in the Caribbean and fly to the Rockies where he had a timeshare and would watch Shawn and me snowboard. I had never thought twice about it. I started to fidget, flicking my fingers.

Auntie Li seemed to read my mind. “Don’t worry about it. Once it’s all settled, there will probably be a bit left over for me and your mom.”

I looked over at Shawn who was busy playing a game on his phone.

When we arrived home, I went upstairs to my room. I locked my door and kneeled in front of my treasure chest, a wooden crate the size of a mini-fridge. I unlatched the chest with a satisfying click and lifted the heavy sanded round cover. On top were books, scarves, socks, bracelets and pens: an innocent facade. Underneath there were two wooden notches. I pressed them and slid them in opposite directions. This allowed me to lift out the main basket, revealing a small cardboard box against the bottom of the chest. I opened it.

I extracted the diamond from my backpack and added it to my box, next to an emerald necklace my grandmother let me borrow and a gold ring I found under the table of a nice restaurant. My possessions sparkled with warmth in the sunlight. I was rich beyond my parents’ imagination. I shut the small box, placed it back at the bottom of the crate, and replaced the main basket. Shifting the hidden wooden panels back into their original spot, I latched the lid shut.

My English homework awaited. I pulled out The Great Gatsby and skimmed the questions I had to answer. But if that diamond somehow, magically, kept itself together long enough, I wouldn’t need to do homework at all. I’d be as rich as Gatsby, maybe richer. There’d be grand tapestries hanging from the tall ceilings of my great mansion hall, filled with people whispering about the Great Queen Nicole: an intellectual, a world traveler, maybe even a famous writer. The Great Queen Nicole would roam the halls, introducing herself with names like Marilyn or Florence: anonymous, elegant, and respected.

“Dinner!” Auntie Li’s voice came up the stairs, waking me up. 

I had barely read two pages, but the rest would have to wait. I opened my door to the delicious aroma of stewed tomatoes. In the kitchen, Shawn and Auntie Li were already sitting down around our cast iron pot.

“Smells amazing, Auntie Li, what is it?”

“Cioppino.”

We took turns serving ourselves from the pot swimming with fish, crab, clams, mussels, and scallops.

“Where did you get all of this seafood, Auntie Li?” I asked. “We never get this nice stuff.”

“I bought some crab for us today, but I found the rest of it deep in the back of the freezer.”

We didn’t own any utensils to crack through the crab, so we used our teeth. The fleshy bits of meat were soft and chewy. Shawn attacked a closed clam.

“If a clam isn’t open, you shouldn’t eat it,” I said.

“But they’re so yummy. I don’t want to miss any.”

“It means they weren’t cleaned. There could be something inside that kills you.”

“I don’t believe that,” Shawn said.

He managed to force the clam open with the strained twist of his spoon.

“Aww, this one doesn’t have anything in it either.”

The clams in my bowl were not any different. “Doesn’t surprise me. They always shop at grocery outlet. I guess we get what we pay for.”

“Aii, they should feed you good food,” Auntie Li said.

“You give us great food, Auntie!” Shawn said.

She laughed. “I’m glad you like it.”

We ate slowly, especially with Shawn trying to open all the clams. Auntie Li tried to boil them some more to no avail. By the time we were full, the sun had set and it was dark outside.

“Now, you two, listen carefully. Your parents asked me to tell you this.” Auntie Li paused. “We’re moving. It’s not far—just across town.”

“What, why?” Shawn asked.

“What’s wrong here?” I added.

“Your parents are selling this house,” Auntie Li said, her face falling into the shadow as she looked down at her bowl. “You should ask them when they get back.”

Shawn and I looked at each other. We had lived here for eleven years. This was our home.

“They’re selling this house just like that? They didn’t even ask us,” Shawn said.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s sudden.” She paused. “Here, how about we go visit after dinner. I have the keys so we can take a look around.”

“Is it a nice house?” Shawn asked.

“Yes, it’s very nice,” Auntie Li replied. Seeing the growing excitement on our faces, she added: “I don’t think you’ll find it nicer than this one. You can see for yourselves.”

Shawn and I fell silent. We helped Auntie Li clean up the dishes and put the rest of the cioppino in the refrigerator. I gathered the remnants of seafood to throw away. The empty shells of the clams looked lonely and sad. We filed into the garage.

“Well, this is it,” Auntie Li announced at our destination. This other house sat between two weak streetlights, one of which flickered.

I climbed out of the car to get a better look. This house didn’t have a second story and the garage could only fit one car. Overgrown weeds grew in the seams of cracked dirt in the front yard. Auntie Li was already unlocking the front door. She walked in and turned on the lights. We followed.

The smell of musty carpet overwhelmed me. The kitchen looked renovated, but there wasn’t enough space to open the oven and the refrigerator at the same time. The low ceilings felt oppressive even though none of us were tall enough to hit our heads against anything. We could only locate two bedrooms.

“Where do you sleep?” Shawn’s voice came from around the corner.

“Auntie Li, are you sure this is the right house?” The question sounded silly when I said it.

“These are the keys,” she said.

“This place sucks,” Shawn declared, joining us in the living room. “Why would we move here?”

I didn’t hesitate to answer. “We’ll ask mom and dad when they get back.”

As we departed, I noticed the sign planted in the yard. “For Rent” it said in bold letters. Shawn was silent during the drive. He wasn’t even on his phone.

“Auntie Li,” I began, my voice hard, “where are our parents right now?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t tell me where they were going.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?”

Her question made me pause.

“Oh sweetie, I know it’s hard, but why would I hide anything from you? You know I don’t keep secrets.”

The strafing beams from the passing streetlights illuminated the stack of papers sitting in the passenger seat. It looked like a person, partially visible and ominous. I shifted in my seat.

We pulled into the driveway next to our Audi. I bolted into the kitchen to open the drawer where we keep our keys. The keys to the Audi were still there. I slammed the drawer shut.

I unpacked my treasure box, grabbed my diamond and ran back to the tile floors in the kitchen. The tiles were cold. I scraped the floor with my diamond, but the tile did not scratch. Instead, this rock in my hand now had an unsightly abrasion.

I fled back to my room, running so Auntie Li couldn’t see my face. The chest of secrets lay there, open for the world to see. Climbing into bed, I turned toward the wall and pulled the sheets over me.

The Great Queen Nicole entered the party unnoticed, entering the main hall of her mansion through a side door. She wore a majestic blue gown, an emerald necklace, and a gold ring. A hundred glamorous figures gathered, chatting in groups, holding wine glasses and small desserts. She hid in plain sight at her own party.

A dark, handsome man walked up to her, knelt on one knee, and asked for her hand in marriage. Thinking she had misheard, she stepped closer. The man opened a small box revealing a diamond. It was Marcie’s. When Nicole recoiled, he smiled, triumph spreading across his face. We’ve finally found her, he announced to the hall. We found the Great Queen Nicole! 

She looked around in horror. He started laughing. Everyone else was laughing too. Her jewelry shattered in a flash of crystalline dust. The golden tapestries crumpled into the floor and the walls of the great hall collapsed, leaving her under the open sky. She was alone and the night was dark.

[chanelfunnell]

Mail,

A) anon, yes, Shaw and deBrincat's 1st boor. children are their spitting image

You see Shaw in his baby daughter. Andy aka Andrew lol. What a gift lol

B) no big sightings or meet up of the Pens ladies and Kathy Leutner so far.. The last one was Winter Classics. No more merch to promote recently.

C) anon, yes, definitely Prince Harry has copied Shaw as former Puck bunny Meghan keeps eyes not on the Pens but what's up in NHL and USA. Marketa is still in USA and her lawyers lodge a suit against revealing info about her Balmoral in his an-nals for canals lol

Nhl star

Crazzy cclown below

Anon, tthey are not generally PR smart savvy as much as they love press or PR. It is all what UK Black Lord of PR stated that their in law women are lazy and a devil can't steal anything regarding the publicity. Instead of being a part of volunteering gardening group with Archwel there is no Markle in sight.. The Cambridge are utterly lazy and just 2 events for William with his simple drivel what his wife Kannot and he Will not and kids do exactly what other kids. They herded a staff of the hospital into the inside foyer so no boo from non regal Liverpool but here we go again. No OK number of real work to steer it away s well as gain their unkeep in hard times. They do nothing since Queen passed away and like Markle - pose, delegate or ask a journo to pass it s source of druggie uncle said, call the pa's they drive around lol.

Matketa cares and she is stable with her work as a routine taken seriously by an unsung hero. Publicity or not. UK Chicago.

Meghan markle and Prince Henry Hewitt were annoying with a posing at US graveyard with their own photog. We know why. No genuine bone in their bodies.

lool on in laws unsporty Kate or Camilla. Lazy to core to move a finger after Good Will hunting..Chuck any duties away. Work done. Marketa and Anne, Zara have fun.

Marketa and Zara share like of Zimmerman dresses and horses, sport and fun.

mockery of Kate's out of trend ridiculous headbands and Russian kokoshka tiaras,,calling her Katushka as an occupant parasite squatter at her estates. Nothing than rags aka clothes and tabs. The Sussexes sued for a breach about Balmoral in the book Spare. In USA court. Fun and horoscope start.

kate's brother copies Marketa's exact brand of the paddleboad but otherwise twice bankrupt and night by Mr Hydrogen for freebies..so all these in laws and ruling Windsor male wishy washed trio. King as a coward and a liar, as the sinners up to the church and Markle's helper ex KGB Babis up to the church and the crown Jewell's lol.

I think Markle is up to her TLC plastic surgeries. Zara with her husband Mike look like good fun, work and chemistry. Not sure about other branches of ye Windsors but many insiders of different countries, ages, jobs, money, gender state that the most normal and reasonable and a Royal from. Titled Windsors is Marketa and Anne. Both sporty, work horses and no huge fuss. Kate does her clothes coding by colour like Markle, both into pearls margarita Marketa but none of them. Bother to pose as a volunteer at least for sake of PR.. You don't see a flask with coffee on the rock in Highlands close to Balmoral like Marketa in the case of Charles walking and posting his own photo lol. It's a car driving and so Kat. Camilla plots how dishonour M after Diana for no reason but she chased JT initials and no Muslim contender to put her into real crossfire as a honour trouble of a Royal lady. They are incredibly lazy, mean gold diggas and very silly regarding PR spin as they tout the publicity and seek attention. Check copycat Markle.

M described as only Windsor at the Windsor Castle and family (with the balls and brain cells) like Sophie of Bavaria only Habsburg in Hofburg in 1848 you know why Kate has posed as Empress Sissy in the black and white weird portrait where she looks more like her uni work about Carol's Alice in Wonderland, so her hairbands and match match coding nonsense. So Markle's Husband shirt lol. Pippa's sister in law named her son Otto like Habsburg, fat corrupt clown'z bedmate with similar personality disorder, career and abuse of power called her daughter after the actress of Empress Sissy.

Anne is very unglazed and unfashionable. She was app Jo Jo pants, not academic woman. Marketa is teensy and fashionable and an ice princess iron maiden meets a geekoid history buff and a book worm but both app no nonsense. No moaning unless with their men they picked themselves for being themselves, no sources said, full diary, their lives living full and marching to the beat of their drums. Loyal. Funny. Easygoing, leaning on family and clan. Sporty.

Why gaining PR galore in USA milking PR experts? All stated above. It is in tatters as Little Big Horn launches huge suit about Balmoral Castle and leak of its layout in US court against Prince Harry and the plaintiff named as UK royal with all paperwork of pedigree.

Both ex profi athletes, on Olympics in different capacities or boring village sport events or pond hockey games. Look on Evander Kane. I am not going into his injury, messy private life and arrangement with bankruptcy but he is doing well and great PR job with a reputation management and money making. Good job on the ice (not now) as a base. He does charity things and do hands on. He donates money not Gimme gimme us for others. She reveals something from his privacy but not too much. Not contradicting himself I am private yet my Al life and joystick is out. No bashing amily and exes now or players randomly because they were doing better. Mainky he lost his own money, he makes own money, runs new biz and apparel but sells his own name.. These women in law like Markle or the Middleton are non names and no Cinderella's ugly stepsisters and their new houses provided by stupid males up to mama Bucket snob close to her house. They were writing to Ronaldo and Markle to dozen of the athletes to chase them. They badmouth girls and ase them as rivalry. They chased their three men, Markle and Camilla are control freaks. Bulimia, personality disorder and alcoholism but no one day of pretending to be a gardener for publicity aka Bolland or Hollywood PR.

Evander Kane returns to NHL games. No blaming or playing saint but watch his good PR.

[kurogane-redfox]

"I'd be happy to listen to ya talk 'bout her sometime too. Yer always so happy when ya mention her,"

He had a feeling of her parents, her mother had the larger influence on who she was now. Despite what the man who was supposed to be her FATHER had done, her mother was likely where she got her little quirks and likes. Such as her reading and writing because he couldn't see the man doing that. Not with all the various lessons she'd been forced to take.

If Jude had been alive, the Dragon knew for certain that he'd not approve of him AT ALL. He didn't come from old money nor did he look like he had much. He was actually incredibly wealthy he just chose not to flaunt it because his Jewel didn't make him into a different person. He was a Dragon and a wizard of the Fairy Tail guild first and foremost, his stores of Jewel didn't change that in the least.

"I have a feelin' if I was a 'normal' person I'd feel bad for dislikin' a dead man but I don't."

Ruby eyes would look at her as she spoke of his parents again. Of how she felt they'd feel about him knowing that he'd had to become this horrible MONSTER because it was a means to survive. At least, now he didn't have to be like that and with Lucy walking beside him, knowing his story and NOT judging him? He didn't think there was anything that could make him happier.

"Maybe, but since I don't know anythin' 'bout 'em other than my last name I can't really say one way or another. They've been dead for a really long time."

Four hundred and nineteen years at the very least. He'd been an orphan when he was sent forward in time along with Natsu, Wendy, Sting, and Rogue. If he had known the answers to her questions he would have happily answered them. Not too surprising given their relationship. The two of them were so incredibly damaged and yet, together they were happy. If he ever did find out about his parents he'd tell her about them but he had no intention of digging up people's names from four-hundred years ago.

"From what Lily tells me I don't get SICK I just get hurt. I suppose there's a few good things 'bout bein' the Iron Dragon, huh?"

He'd snort at her comment about 'laying in bed nursing wounds' mostly because he didn't, and likely never would. Well, unless she was there then he'd have an excuse to stay in bed. He had a feeling should he ever sustain enough damage to need bedrest she'd just being a bag with her and stay with him until he was back on his feet. He liked that idea, not the getting injured bit but her being there with him for a while. Sure, she had her apartment but he couldn't really fit in her tiny bed.

"Ya like it, I take it? Yer always welcome to come here and read whatever ya want even if I ain't home. Especially since yer gonna have a key."

His library was massive, over five hundred books lines the shelves, there were also thick tomes that were clearly very old, along with scrolls wrapped in clear plastic tubes to protect them. They also had runes to guard them from crumbling. Quite a number of the books, tomes, and scrolls were rewards from some of his S-Class jobs, but a few were things he purchased from shops on his way home from jobs too.

"Uh, last time I counted I had nine-hundred and sixty-four books, ninety-two tomes, and sixty-seven scrolls."

He'd told her his collection was large before they came to his house, now she knew just HOW large it was. He could tell by the look on her face that she was impressed and maybe a bit overwhelmed.

"If yer interested, the shelf right in front of ya has some romance novels on it. I ain't read 'em myself but I've been told they're good."

"I'd LOVE to tell you about mom." She had so many happy memories of the woman, it would be hard for Lucy to stop talking once she got started when it came to Layla.

Lucy would be a liar if she said she didn't feel the same way. What had once been pure adoration for the man, a daughter's first love, had turned to pure, unadulterated HATRED. She couldn't think of a man she hated more, for he was the reason her friends had gotten harmed, he was the reason she had so many scars, not physical ones of course, but emotional ones.

Of course, there were other people on Lucy's shit list, but Jude sat at the top, right there along with Jose for what he had done to Gajeel. Those were two of the people that she could never forgive, and if Jude had been alive, she would have GLADLY tore him a new one, just like she did everytime she encountered him.

"I don't blame you, I can't stand him either, and he's been long dead."

She thought for a moment. Of the person he was before, "I think they'd understand that you were doing what you had to do to survive out there."

She wondered what his parents were like too, if he looked like his mother or his father, if he got some of the same traits that they had. She'd brush those thoughts off, though, because it was a bit pointless. Not that she didn't care. Of course it wasn't because of that, but he didn't even know his own parents, so how could he know the answer to any of those questions?

She understood that. She didn't exactly like being idle, either. "Whenever I get sick I go stir crazy just having to lay in bed all day." And usually she wouldn't lay in bed all day. Usually she would push herself even if she was sick unless she was so ill that she couldn't even move or sit up in bed without getting woozy. "I can't imagine having to lay in bed all day nursing your wounds."

She'd follow him through the doorways, and once they stopped at his library, her eyes would go wide once more. It was HUGE! Much bigger than she expected it to be, and she was at a loss for words for a moment. "It's-- so big--!"

He must have had at least five hundred books in there.

She'd step further in, her eyes darting around, wondering where to even begin with a library this size. It was a little overwhelming to Lucy, but nothing that she couldn't handle. She'd approach the first set of shelves and skim through titles, before going to the next one and doing the same.

"How many books do you own, exactly?"

[lushaletta]

happy birthday / james potter

pairing: prince!james potter x maids daughter!reader

warnings: royal!au, status difference, mild swearing

summary: his royal highness has a soft spot for an unlikely girl.

a/n: i thought of this in class and it’s the most tropey and cliche thing but it was so fun ?? also i’m now extremely fond of writing for the marauders so yay i think. i’ll probably be writing more of this au just because i enjoyed doing it a ton !!

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Princess, do you think this shirt looks good on me?” James asks. He knows he looks good, he just wants to hear it from you; the voice he values the most.

You laugh knowingly. “Yes, James. I think it makes you look dashing.”

He raises a brow. “Does it?” You nod. He makes a show of adjusting his tie and cuff links, staring at you in the mirror.

And you can’t help but blush. He really is handsome. His hair is messy, the style that his mum scolds him for and you encourage.

Guess whose opinion he follows.

James has never been ashamed of you or your status. It’s the bare minimum, but you’re grateful.

He’s all gold and chalice, while you’re.. you. The daughter of his own fucking maid with just enough money to buy him a cheap ring. It’s plastic, for goodness sake.

“Happy birthday, Jamie,” you say, calling him a nickname just because you can. It’s lovely, since you know he likes it and you also know you’re one of the few people who’ll even dare use the name.

“Thank you.”

He’s getting ready for a birthday ball that he doesn’t even want to go to.

“I’d much rather spend the day with you,” he’d said.

But he knew people were waiting on him, and there was going to be food, so perhaps it’s not that bad. As long as he gets time with you after.

You take a deep breath, pulling the tiny box out of your pocket. “I have something for you.” You’re worried. Not because you think he won’t like it, he’ll love it. It’s just shameful in your eyes. He’s given you expensive things you never thought you’d be able to touch in your lifetime. He’s given you the world.

“You do?”

Instead of a response, you hold the box out in front of him, waving it in his face.

He takes it gratefully, elegantly. His eyes widen. Shit. Does he hate it? No, he probably already has one. Silly of you to think he doesn’t have hundreds of them littering his storage. He hates it.

You clear your throat, prodding for an answer.

“Oh my god, this is amazing, thank you,” he finally says, delight filling his voice.

“I know it’s not much, and you likely—“

“Shut up. It’s beautiful, I love it. Also, does this technically mean you’re proposing to me? Because I don’t have anything prepared. Sorry, darling,” he praises it so easily. Like it’s not an act and like he actually does love it.

Maybe he does.

Your suspicions were confirmed when he slipped the ring on his finger, a little heart adorning the band. He admires it, looking at it in awe.

“This is the best thing anyone’s ever gotten for me. No kidding.”

And to further show his appreciation, he plants a tender kiss on your cheek, one that sort of feels like a present in itself. You’re forgetting whose special day it really is.

None of his fancy crowns or jewels’ shine can compete with that on his face. The smile on James’ lips is a million times brighter than all of them, you’re sure of it.

“Thank you for this. Really,” he adds, as if the kiss and the compliments weren’t enough.

You can only flash him a grin. Then a, “I’m not proposing to you! Not yet, at least.”

“Bold of you to think I wouldn’t do so first.”

There’s nothing James loves more than making you flustered.

[marbleheavy]

here are some of my Nico headcanons that nobody asked for!!

He collects things. Not just Mythomagic stuff like he did as a kid, but cool shells, and rocks, and weird glass figurines that everyone else thinks are terrifying, and books. He’s got them in jars or lined up on shelves and he just has so many things (Because for so long he had so few things that actually belonged to him that didn’t have to serve a very clear purpose, so now he just wants to keep whatever he’d like)

He reads SO much as an adult. A lot of it is nonfiction because he’s trying to catch up on what happened in the world while he was pulled out of it, but a lot of fiction too (not really fantasy though, that’s too close to home) and a lot of poetry. He can recite poems from memory and will just randomly quote them sometimes and it should be pretentious but it isn’t and his friends think it’s amazing (cue dramatically saying "till love and fame to nothingness do sink" anytime he's told he has to wait) (Also, he will rant about why Ted Hughes sucks at any point in time)

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again!! He is a Dungeon Master! He’s got a binder for all the notes for his current campaign and a notebook for ideas and special highlighters and pens that he only uses for D&D. Also, dice are definitely one of the things he collects and he keeps them in those clear, plastic bead containers with dividers and they’re sorted by number of faces and also ~vibes~ (for example, do a backflip D20 and life or death D20)

leather jacket Nico di Angelo? seen, respected, and appreciated. CARDIGAN Nico di Angelo? underrated! He has a couple oversized cardigans with buttons and big pockets that he adores. The first one he ever had he definitely stole from Will but now, whenever he comes across another similar one, he buys it. The pockets are filled with rocks and worn, mass-market paperbacks and pens. (Basically, I’m leaning hard into English Major Nico with his annotated books and glasses and cardigans) (Also, cardigan Nico and flannel Will but sometimes they swap)

He definitely cuts his own hair in the bathroom and he's gotten very good at it. He's had a range of haircuts, from long hair to a mullet to the shaved sides and fluffy top, but he always ends up back with a shaggy mop that Hazel likes to put little braids in (or sometimes pull the very back of it into two little pigtails) and with bangs that always end up in his eyes.

Sorry to reiterate the same point that's been made forever, but his wardrobe is pretty dark-toned. Obviously black, but he does like a good jewel tone, perhaps a maroon or an emerald. Anything really bright was either a gift or belongs to Will someone else. Also, gendered clothing means nothing to him. He wears what he wants to wear and he thinks it's cool as hell when he's wearing a skirt while sparring and it flares out dramatically as he twirls.

He's kind of picked up modern slang but he also uses a lot of slang from pretty much every decade he missed. It's also a 50/50 chance he's using it incorrectly. (examples include: 1) Leo says something that is definitely supposed to be funny and Nico stares at him, utterly emotionless, and says "Gag me with a spoon" in an alarmingly monotone voice, and 2) Anytime he says something snarky to Jason or Percy he starts it with "hey bestie..." and honestly, they're both just touched Nico called them "bestie" at all)

He adores Studio Ghibli movies and can be found humming the Ponyo theme song anytime he goes swimming (Will standing on the shore, looking around for Nico and he eventually spots him in the water. He wades out to Nico, all sunglasses that shouldn't look so cool and golden hair and chest, and just greets him with "Hey there, Neeks, how's my fishie in the sea?" and Nico can't decide if he wants to drown himself or kiss Will on his stupid mouth)

Speaking of movies, shortly after the Giant War, all of his friends (the Seven, Reyna, Will, probably Lou Ellen and Cecil, too) showed up at his cabin with blankets and snacks. They each brought their favorite movie or movies they think he needs to see to catch him up on the modern age. At first, he acts disgruntled that they're all there but he very quickly settles into the blanket fort Annabeth constructs and is quietly very grateful and excited that they cared enough to do this for him. They're all holed up in his cabin for a full day until they've finished every movie. (Percy brought Finding Nemo, Annabeth brought Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Piper brought Scott Pilgrim vs The World, Jason brought Captain America: The First Avenger (and Nico definitely says "that's gay" when Steve and Bucky say there "Until the end of the line" shit and everybody absolutely loses their minds), Hazel also is behind on movies but she brought either a very scary movie or Moana, Frank brought A New Hope (though he considered Brother Bear), Will brought Spirited Away, Cecil brought Back to the Future, and Lou Ellen brought The Princess Bride)

He can play the piano! He gets a piano for the Hades cabin and on nights where he can't sleep and the nightmares are really bad, he plays piano.

He will cry if he hears I Will by Mitski or Wasteland, Baby by Hozier, for different reasons but also kind of not (he wants to be loved)

Also, Nico and Dionysus being buddies! Nico jokingly says he'll host a bacchanal if Dionysus excuses him from certain camp activities and that's how Nico and friends end up wearing togas around a campfire, all very hesitantly holding cups of wine they aren't actually going to drink. It is definitely not a bacchanal, it's just a bad toga party (barely) but Dionysus accepts it and decides Nico is a Good One.

(Yes I did very badly make this stupid meme that somebody has definitely made a variation of before)

This is definitely not a complete list of headcanons but it's what I've got so far!

[vampkaashis-wife]

Birthday series m.list - reader and suga discuss having children

7. Koushi comes home from work with an armful of trinkets. This is not unusual, seeing as his students are Trinket Collectors, presenting him random objects like crows.

“Hi, babe,” he starts dropping everything on the kitchen table noisily. “Got something for you.”

“For me?” Leaving your spot on the couch, you trail over to see what he’s talking about.

“First is this,” he puts a little tiara on your head. It has tufts of pink fluff on the bottom and a large heart-shaped plastic jewel in the center. “I told them it was your birthday, so Aki-chan is letting you borrow this. I’m supposed to take a picture of you to show her tomorrow. Then you have to give it back.”

“You don’t have to do anything they tell you,” you retort.

“Don’t be ungrateful; they’re showing you their love.”

“Koushi, they’re seven. They’ve never met me.”

“And they adore you anyway. Hana-chan’s mom made this cake for you.”

“What.”

“And Kento-kun’s dad gave you this coupon, but I don’t think you’ll need it.” He flips the sheet down on the table.

“Wait, why not?”

Koushi squints at you. “Why do you only care about the one that came from a dad? It’s for his mechanic shop, and we don’t even have a car. He’s just looking for business opportunities.”

“You’re the one who insinuated he wasn’t,” you point out. “Rudely, too.”

“Oh, and about three of the girls said they’d let you have me for the day, then they’re back to fighting you for the position of Sensei’s Wife.”

“I think sensei needs to redefine his boundaries,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Then you start sifting through the rest of the trinket pile, holding up a random collection of coins, a little paper boat, and an eraser in turn. “Baby, you realize you’re there to teach them, not be their friend.”

“Yeah, but,” Koushi looks troubled, rubbing the back of his neck slowly. “They’re so cute. I just… They’re so excited, how am I supposed to shut them down?”

“How about…” you hesitate, not sure if this is the time or place for this conversation. “How about we get our own kid to spoil?”

His eyes widen, and he tenses up like you’re about to hit him with a pillow or something. “You mean-?”

“I mean, how do you feel about being a dad?”

He’s vibrating with excitement, you can almost hear it. But he’s got enough wits about it to ask you, “How do you feel about being a mom? Because I think you’d be the best one, but I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready.”

“Koushi, love. I’ve been ready. I just… Didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“You sure?”

“I think so.”

Before you can stop him, he’s whipped out his phone and called Daichi. From the sound of it, Daichi doesn’t pick up, but Koushi leaves a message: “I’M GOING TO BE A DAD!”

You hiss and snatch the phone from him, adding, “I’m not pregnant yet, but we decided to try. Do not plan any baby showers or pregnancy reveals yet!”

[arctickat2400]

Salvatore Wedding <> Damon Salvatore

I speed paced through the Salvatore house living room in gray PJ short shorts and a tank top. I sped from one place to another, procrastinating about everything bad that can happen.

I was so nervous. It was only 2 hours until I was Mrs. Y/N Salvatore, but how can I go through with this when anything, and I mean anything, could go wrong?

How could I walk down the aisle in front of all those people? I mean, yeah, I know everyone, well almost everyone. Most of them were my friends, yet, I didn’t have many.

Either way, I was so nervous. Not that I would be spending the rest of my life with Damon Salvatore, the one I’ve loved for who knows how long. But, that things could happen, and the best day of my life could be ruined.

But, Damon wouldn’t let that happen… right?

“Y/N?” I heard a voice call for me. I spin my body around and spot one of my best friends, Bonnie, standing at the top of the steps at the entrance to the living room.

“Y/N, what are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be getting ready.” Bonnie exclaimed.

“Bon, I don’t know if I can do it. I’m so nervous. So many things can go wrong and-” I trail off. She grabs my shoulders and looked me in the eye.

“Y/N, nothing’s going to happen. Everything will be okay. Damon won’t let anything happen, and he most definitely won’t let anything happen to you. So, if you don’t get up there and get ready for the day we all know will happen, then I will get Caroline to force you up there and into your dress.” She smiles at the end.

I laugh, looking down. “Thanks, Bon. I needed that.” I smiled.

“Now, get your ass up there!” Bonnie says, trying to hold a straight face, but she couldn’t do it.

We walked up the stairs of the Salvatore house as we made it to Damon and my bedroom.

“Y/N, where’ve you been? I have so much that I need to do.” Caroline told me, running towards me and pulling me to the bathroom.

Almost 8 minutes later, Caroline was done with my makeup and my hair, and can I just say, it looks amazing. She was always the best at makeup and stuff.

My hair was braided into a thick side braid with a white flower headband. And for my makeup, I was never too fond of makeup. But, Caroline did great. It was just a bit of blush, mascara, red lipstick, and it was quite dark, like blood red. She added a little eye shadow, light, but it went well with the black mascara.

“So, where’s the dress?” I asked, an excited smile on my lips. The dress was my favorite part. Bonnie, Caroline and Elena helped me pick it out and it was the most beautiful dress I have ever seen.

“Here it is.” Elena’s voice echoes through the large room as she walks through the door. She held my dress that was protected by a plastic clothes protector thing.

I walked towards her as she walked towards me, a smile on her face.

“Oh my god, It’s beautiful.” I said, and I almost started crying, looking over my dress. It was a white strapless dress, a long in the back and short in the front ruffled dress. On the back, it was ribbon crossed down the spine.

As I looked at it, I felt my phone buzz.

“Oh, give me a sec.” I told my three friends as I take my phone out of my back pocket.

“Y/N, come on. We still have a lot to do.” Caroline whined.

“Calm down, Care. It’ll only be a sec.” I tell her.

I look down at my phone, going to sit on the bed.

It was a text from Damon.

Damon: Hey, baby. Just wondering how you were doing. No crying. I want this to be your happiest day.

Y/N: How’d you know I was crying? You’re not supposed to see me yet.

Damon: I didn’t. I could sense your tears. Still, no crying. How’re you doing, though? Did you find it?

Y/N: Find what?

Damon: Side table next to the bed. I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you, princess.

Y/N: Love you, too.

I smiled at my phone.

I looked at the side table next to the bed on Damon’s side, remembering his last text.

There was a small box, almost vintage and rose gold. It had a note beside it.

I walked over to it and held the note. It read:

Here’s something blue and something old.

Also something beautiful for my beautiful princess.

Not that you need anything to make you any more beautiful.

Love you, baby.

I smiled at his words and the amazing handwriting that I can never master.

I picked up the box as I set down the note, opening the box.

Inside was the most ravishing bracelet. It was blue, the sapphires making it pop. And it was old. It was Damon’s mother’s bracelet that his dad, Giuseppe Salvatore gave her when they got married. It was passed down to Damon for his future wife.

Damon had told me about this bracelet, he said he’s had it forever. He even showed it to me one time. But, I forgot all about it. So, this was the gift he was going to give me. He said he had a gift for me before the wedding. He never told me what it was, though. The bracelet was beautiful.

“Y/N, you ready?” Elena asked me, asking if I was ready to put the dress on. I nodded my head, walking towards my friends with a smile, holding the bracelet to my chest.

Bonnie, Caroline and Elena helped me put on my dress, helping me with the ribbon on the back. It was tight, and I think that’s how it was supposed to be, but it still looked stunning.

Bonnie helped me put the bracelet on and Elena helped me with my shoes.

Out of everyone, I have to be the worst in heels. But, Caroline will never let me go with converse or barefoot, which I wish I could do since wedding was just in the front yard of the Salvatore house. But, my heels were smalls ankle-strapped heels that were lined with jewels. As with everything else, they were gorgeous.

Anyways, I was all ready, my wedding coming in almost 30 minutes.

Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were all ready in the makeup and hair department. They had left me alone to go get dressed themselves. They were my three bridesmaids, so they had gone to get dressed into their white and black flower designed bridesmaid dresses.

After almost 6 minutes, they had come out of the bathroom and walked to me.

We looked ourselves over, checking for anything that needs to be changed or something. We were ready and looked quite astonishing. I laughed at the thought.

* * *

Everyone should be here by now, Damon should be at the end of the aisle waiting for me. Stefan, Enzo, Klaus and Alaric should be waiting for us to meet them down at the top of the stairs outside.

Stefan was escorting Elena down the aisle before me, followed by Enzo with Bonnie and Klaus with Caroline.

My parents had died a few years ago. My dad died in a plane crash and my mom was attacked by a werewolf. Ever since then, Damon has helped me through the tragic years and now we’re here, getting married.

And, since my dad isn’t here, Alaric begged me to walk me down the aisle. There was no way I could say no. One, he was Damon’s best friend. Two, he was almost like a father figure to me, always acting like a father to me, I guess.

Caroline, Bonnie, Elena and I walked through the halls of the Salvatore house and to the doors that lead out to the outside stairway.

Our friends stood inside, waiting for us. Caroline, Bonnie and Elena walked around the corner first, making their way to their men.

I, then, walked around the corner as my seven friends looked my way, staring at me.

Stefan walked up to me and smiled.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N,” Stefan exclaimed, kissing my forehead.

Alaric then walked over to me, holding his arm out for me to take.

“Y/N, you look stunning. My best friend and my daughter-like friend getting married. Never thought, but I’m just glad I have the honor of walking you down the aisle.” Alaric told me.

“I can’t imagine anyone else walking me down that aisle on my special day. Thank you, Alaric.” I smiled at him.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead as he stared into my eyes.

“You ready, soon-to-be Mrs. Salvatore?” He asked me. I giggled.

I nodded with a smile as I wrapped my arms around Alaric’s and the music started.

It wasn’t the traditional wedding song. It was Turning Page, a song that Bonnie and Elena chose. I told them that they could pick out the song, and they did a great job. The song was perfect.

I watched as Stefan and Elena, arms intertwined, walked down the stairs and down the aisle. Following, it was Klaus and Caroline. They were at the beginning of the aisle when Stefan and Elena had made it to the end of the aisle, standing next to the love of my life.

It was now Enzo and Bonnie’s turn to walk down. As they reached the beginning of the aisle, I realized I was still nervous, and Alaric could see it.

“Just breathe, Y/N. Soon enough you’ll be with the love of your life forever. Don’t pay attention to the big audience. They’re all your friends here to support you. Nothing to worry about. You’ll be okay.” Alaric explained.

“Thanks.” I smiled up at him.

It was our cue. I breathed in and out slowly, my eyes closed.

I opened them as Alaric started walking me down the steps and down the aisle.

Everyone was standing and staring back at me. As much as I wish they weren’t, I was somehow getting a little less nervous than before.

Stefan, Enzo, and Klaus were lined up on the right side of the stage where Damon was standing and Caroline, Elena, and Bonnie were on the left side where I’d be standing.

Then, somehow I ended up already halfway down the aisle and when I looked up, I met the blue eyes that I loved so much.

Damon’s eyes met mine as he smiled, that famous smirk that’s on his lips 24/7 that always made me go crazy. A blush came onto my cheeks as I looked down with a small, shy smile. I looked back up, his and my eyes never losing eye contact.

I made it down the aisle with Alaric as he helped me up the two steps and onto the stage. He kissed the back of my hand and handed me off to my love, Damon Salvatore, as he took both my hands in his.

“You look gorgeous.” Damon leaned down towards me and whispered into my ear. He kissed my forehead and leaned back, staring into my eyes.

“I believe this lovely couple had created their own vows.” The pastor backed up to let Damon and I say our vows. He went first.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, my love, I have made my mistakes in this world. I have done my wrongs, but with you, you make me right. You have never left me hanging. And I promise to never leave you hanging. I promise to catch you when you stumble, to carry you when you’re hurt, to pick you up when you fall, to comfort you when you cry. You are the first one I want to see in the morning and the last one I want to see at night. I want to hold you in my arms and kiss you whenever I can. You are my other half, the one that keeps me good. You are the one that finds me when I’m lost. Through sickness and health, I will be there for and with you. You, Y/Full/N, are my one true love. And I promise my life to you. Forever and always.” Damon vowed, never taking his eyes away from mine.

I could barely keep it together. He told me not to cry, but I can’t keep that promise. Tears were already threatening to escape my eyes. It was now my turn.

“I regret many things in my life. I have made many mistakes. But, Damon Salvatore, my love, you are most definitely not one of those regrets, nor one of those mistakes. You are the one that keeps me on my toes, holds me up, and catches me when I fall. I would give anything to be with you. You are my best friend, and being with you is a dream come true, my every desire fulfilled. You can count on me when things go downhill. You can count on me to pick you up at your bad times. I can’t believe that, after this, I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I hadn’t known love till I met you. You are everything I could ever imagine life and love to be. Nothing can take me away from you. You, Damon Giuseppe Salvatore, are my one true love. And I promise my life to you. Forever and always.” I vowed to him, tears now staining my cheeks.

Damon smiles at me, his hand making its way up to my cheek and taking the tears away.

“Now, do you, Damon Giuseppe Salvatore, take your love, Y/Full/N, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, Forever and Always?” the pastor questions Damon.

Damon, with his stern blue eyes, stares into my eyes.

“I do. Forever and Always.” Damon answers without hesitation. I blush and smile as he smiles down at me.

“Do you, Y/Full/N, take your love, Damon Giuseppe Salvatore, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, Forever and Always?” the pastor questions me. I didn’t even have to think for one second.

“I do. Forever and Always.” I answer and smile up at Damon.

“I announce Ms. Y/Full/N and Damon Giuseppe Salvatore as Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore. You may kiss the bride.”

He didn’t even have to think. He leaned forward slowly, his hand on my cheek and the other on my waist as his lips met with mine as they moved in sync perfectly.

He was my Mr. Salvatore and I was his Mrs. Salvatore.

“I love you, Y/N,” Damon says, pulling back, our foreheads leaned against each other.

“I love you, Damon,” I say, smiling.

He and I together, Forever and Always.

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.6

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (4.3k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphic depictions of violence and blood

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, January 26 

The sound of birds chirping is the first thing you hear in the morning. 

You slowly rise from the bed and rub your swollen eyes, a low yawn escaping your lips in the process. Blinking a mere couple of times, your vision slowly falls back into focus and you glance around a bit bewildered. 

It’s almost like there’s a haze over your mind, contentment gracing you in the form of absolute vigor. Your shoulders feel lighter, and there’s no rapid racing of your heart, your regular pace of breathing leaving your lungs. 

Your pupils suddenly twinkle and you whip around, only to be met with a bed that is half empty. 

A sharp pang of disappointment instantly washes over you. 

“Miss Y/N?” 

Your head raises to the foreign sight of someone leaning down, staring down at you intently. You nearly stagger back, alarmed from the intrusion. 

“I-I didn’t mean to startle you!” She hurriedly assures. You recall seeing her while Namjoon was talking to the company’s shareholders, remembering his inquiry about hiring a new maid. 

“It’s alright.” You clear your throat, attempting to conceal your dismay. Unfortunately, it appears that you seem to be doing a terrible job at it. 

“Master Kim left early this morning because of an urgent matter.” She clarifies right away, noticing the way it brings light to your eyes. Softly smiling, she continues, “He requested I stay here with you to make sure you were feeling alright.” 

You slowly nod, “I understand.... But I’d like to be left alone for a while.” 

Peering up to see her expression, she shakes her head right away, granting you with some privacy. The moment the door is closed on her way out, you squeeze your eyes shut. 

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you rise from the bed, moving your belongings around as you fish out for a familiar plastic box. 

***

Even though your stomach churns and a bitter taste lingers in your mouth, you force your hands to keep drumming against the plastic, responding to the spurts of static it lets out. You’ve forgotten how many times you’ve fisted your hair in the process, leaks of more and more information involuntarily leaving you. 

You’re near the end of your message relay, desperate for it to be over already. However, that’s when a certain line of static comes through, your eyes widening dramatically. 

W-What? 

A heavy knock pounds against the plastic and your pupils dart around manically, stance freezing up as you wait for the response. 

The same static pattern resonates through. 

“N-No…” You whisper. It has to be a mistake, it has to be.

But regardless, you need to know more. A series of frantic knocks resonate through the room, only for a chain of static to come through immediately. Before you have the chance to relay something back in exchange, it abruptly cuts off and despair spreads through your features. 

You weren’t given an option. 

You were given an order. 

Legs quivering as your rise, a set of instructions repeat themselves over and over again in your mind like a vicious loop. Walking aimlessly like on autopilot, you scavenge through your clothes before locating a particular suitcase you had brought in prior to moving. It was one piece of luggage that you didn’t get the luxury of packing yourself, thrust into your hands instead. 

Fumbling around with the handful of zippers and pockets, your hands roam around until they feel a sharp prick. Your breath instantly hitches and once you unzip the compartment, the cool metal meets your fingertips instantly. 

Carefully taking it out, your eyes transfixed with horror onto the gun resting within the palm of your hand. Swallowing hard, you slowly rise to your feet and take a step back. 

Stopping right at the corner of the bed, your orbs oscillate as they land right on top of the opposite side from your own.

You tear your eyes away, a harsh gasp leaving your lips. That’s when the shining and translucent object catches your line of vision and you hesitantly step forward towards the dresser, confronted with the sight of your own reflection. 

Your complexion is extremely pale, small dark bags lining the bottom of your orbs and a sickly tint coating your lips. It dawns upon you how much the lack of sleep and being constantly on edge have morphed you into something you’re not accustomed to seeing, but once your gaze flickers up to your eyes, you freeze. 

The mirror surprisingly reflects something there that you haven’t seen there for quite some time, something that was snatched away from you the moment you took on this grave task. 

Why...why do you look so doubtful? It’s like‒ 

You swallow hard, hands tightening into fists. 

It’s almost like you don’t want to do it. 

The gun in your hand feels far too heavy, like it’s weight had tripled the moment you wrapped your fingers around it. The remorse flickering  in your ears is far too obvious, drowning within the confines of your muted apathy. 

Your eyes drop down, lips beginning to tremble. The bulky gun is gripped tightly within your hand and unconsciously, a lone tear slips down from your eye. 

***

A tart meets your lips, softly chewing on the crumbling structure. 

You're seated at the table where you first had dinner with Namjoon and his family, but this time around the new maid had relentlessly insisted you eat something and sat you down alone with a buffet in front of you. 

You wonder if it’s because she can see how pale you look, or the fatigue running deep in your eyes. 

Taking another bite, the maid hurriedly scurries and brings another platter, a soft smile on her lips as she places it within your reach. You don’t return the response, in fact you don’t move in the slightest as you chew down on the tart, functioning more like you were programmed on command than anything. 

The only time light actually flickers within your orbs, is when the entrance door opens and you catch sight of your husband. 

You instantly rise from your seat as Namjoon walks by, appearing to be lost in deep thought as he begins to head straight up the stairs, only halting when the maid stops him in his tracks. He looks confused for a moment, but after she converses with him you notice his eyes flicker over in your direction, and instantly his feet take him towards you. 

“You’re having lunch?” He questions, seating himself down on the opposite end of the table. 

You nod, “I was told you had something urgent to attend?” 

“Ah,” Namjoon says, exhaustion evident on his features, “Some of the policemen wanted to talk about the case and I’ve been helping them with the investigation.” 

Your jaw instantly tightens, but then you nod, waiting for him to continue. A brief silence dips through instead and it surprises you, looking up to see Namjoon frowning. 

“What is it?” 

A deep sigh leaves him, “Y/N...I‒” His features twist up as he winces, “E-Eunjoo….we’ve found evidence that she may have been killed too....” 

Namjoon grimaces again, nearly whispering, “They found her corpse…” 

“I-I see….” The food in front of you suddenly seems utterly stale, the appetite you convinced yourself of vanishing entirely. 

The maid eventually comes over and asks Namjoon if he wants anything to eat, to which he just replies that he’s eaten prior to returning back home. You decide to take the exchange as an opportunity to excuse yourself, leaving your lunch behind as you head back to your room. 

In the midst of your actions, a hand wraps around your wrist and halts you. 

“Y/N.” 

“Are...” Namjoon hesitates, “Are you okay?” 

Fear immediately dwindles in you, “W-Why are you asking?” 

“Well,” He lets go of your hand, “You and Eunjoo became close, hearing that she’s gone now….are you okay?”

His desperate eyes fall upon you and for a split second, you repress the urge to let all the tears burst out. The only matter of action you can do is simply nod, looking away from his heavy gaze. 

However, your response doesn’t seem to convince Namjoon completely of its integrity. He laces his fingers with yours and suddenly rushes, heading up the stairs as he brings you along with him. His urgency baffles you, but nonetheless, you still follow closely behind. 

Namjoon leads you into the bedroom, your body stilling when he tells you to face the same hanging mirror you were just scrutinizing prior to eating.  

“Close your eyes.” He requests and although you find it quite strange, you oblige without hesitation. 

An ice cold sensation touches your skin, right below your neck. 

“You can open them now.” Namjoon whispers, his voice coming through the shell of your ear. 

The moment you flutter them open, the sight before you has your eyes widening. 

You stand right in front of the mirror, your reflection from waist up showcasing on the glass. Namjoon stands directly behind you, his hands coming around your shoulders to display the shining object that lies within them. 

It’s an amethyst necklace, a simple purple pendant held together with a silver chain that Namjoon is carefully plucking. You cautiously touch the centre, letting your fingertips glide over the fine jewel in astonishment. 

“Namjoon…” You whisper, a soft smile tugging on the corner of your mouth. 

“I bought it a while ago.” He sheepishly explains, loosening his grip of the necklace and taking a step back, “I didn’t know if you would like it, but I thought it could possibly have the power to bring a smile to your lips.” 

His words overwhelm you, rending you completely speechless. 

Seesawing on his heels, he seems to pause for a second, his eyes flickering. 

“C-Can I…?” 

Namjoon looks at you as if encouraging you to decline if you wish to do so, but it manages to elicit a sad smile to line your lips. You swallow hard, nodding in response. 

His eyes instantly beam and he hurriedly stands behind you once again, carefully gliding the metal against your skin until it sits right. As Namjoon attempts to connect it at the back, your line of vision lands upon the mirror, taking in the image before you. 

There’s no doubt the pendant is extremely beautiful ‒ but what your eyes fixate on more is how it practically glimmers on you, managing to bring the glow back to your tired and sickly features. 

Namjoon suddenly shifts, choosing to stand beside you as he quickly ensures that the chain is truly in place and will remain connected. The gesture results in your eyes swaying, moving from the pendant to him. 

The way he stands almost reminds you of the day you got married, how he was before you appearing absolutely regal and dignified. At the time, you had no sense of what you were exactly getting yourself into, essentially thrust into a life that was plotted and planned for from the start. 

And in the midst of it all, the man standing with you was someone you were meant to be careful of, to keep an precise eye out for his actions and to monitor them as closely as possible, all with the poise of being a wife.

But you were never prepared for any of this, prepared to find yourself admiring the warmth that easily spreads within his eyes, or the way he tenderly speaks to you, the strict premise of observing him becoming muddled with something else. 

The image of a gun suddenly flashes by your eyes, making your shoulders tense. 

Namjoon takes a step back and gazes at you, his mouth curving into a smile. 

“You look beautiful.” He softly says, and your head snaps up, eyes connecting right away with his. 

In that one single second, you truly wonder about it for the first time. You wonder if Kim Namjoon is truly as innocent as you ‒ a simplistic tool made for others to use.

***

It’s difficult for you to spend the remainder of the day without your eyes swaying over to the purple gem that sits at the base of your throat, but after a while you wonder if you’re simply doing it out of remorse. 

A deep sigh leaves your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head slightly. 

Namjoon suddenly enters the room, appearing frantic. At your concerned gaze, he simply smiles. 

“There’s an urgent meeting I have to attend with the shareholders,” He quickly says, grabbing onto a bag from the corner of the living room, “I should be back soon.” 

Namjoon casually throws the words into the air, as if they were nothing to be overly worried about. But he doesn’t see how your eyes are shell-shocked, jaw falling slack as blood drains from your features. 

As he steps to move out the front door, your hand abruptly clasps around his wrist. 

Namjoon turns around right away, amidst being puzzled with the sudden hold. However, that’s when his eyes flicker up to yours and for once, there’s no mask concealing your true expression. 

“Y/N…?” Namjoon hesitantly asks, stepping forward. The moment he does, you step back, letting go of his hand swiftly with a strained chuckle. 

“S-Sorry…” You instantly look away, but Namjoon doesn’t budge in the slightest. He instead chooses to hold onto your hand again, looking straight into your averted eyes. 

“I’ll be back soon, Y/N...you don’t have to worry…” He whispers, and it takes every fiber of your being not to spill everything right then and there, head stagnantly nodding. 

“I-I understand.” You manage to sputter out, mentally reprimanding yourself. 

You can’t hesitate ‒ you’re not allowed to hesitate. You can’t feel emotions like these, emotions like you need him.... 

You’re a spy, Y/N. 

As if instinct, the mask begins to form once again. Your eyes turn brighter, and a smile begins to line your lips swiftly, nowhere near the verge of collapsing like seconds ago. 

You glance up, prepared to let go, “Namjoon, I‒” 

Your breath immediately hitches and you freeze in place, eyes rapidly darting around. 

Namjoon keeps his arms around your torso, hands resting on your back and his chin propped up on your shoulder. He embraces you tightly and unconsciously, a speck of tears begin to dampen your eyes. 

For a moment, your lids flutter shut and you savour the gesture, entwining your arms around him. 

When your eyes finally open, they can only focus on the palm of your hands ‒ flesh that has been constantly painted and coated in red with no end in sight. 

Letting out a deep sigh, you part from him. 

Namjoon is still gazing at you, eyes boring into your own. His hand rises up, thumb swiping away the tears that line your cheeks.  

It’s at that moment you recognize their appearance and fumble to wipe the rest away, a strained smile slipping from your lips. You’re scrambling at what to say with him, no coherent words being able to surface at the tip of your tongue. 

But what you fail to see in that single second, is how Namjoon’s eyes instantly perk up and how he immediately pulls you towards him. 

“Y/N!” 

Everything happens with a flash. At one point in time, Namjoon is caressing your face within his hands, softly smiling at you. Another split second later, he’s collapsed onto the ground, completely knocked out. 

Your heart beats viciously as you quickly kneel down beside him and glance up, not picking up on the individual outside that has been particularly eyeing the two of you right as you stopped Namjoon from leaving. 

A mask covers the stranger’s features, but you hear the sound of a low ‘tick’ and notice that his eyes are glued to Namjoon’s fallen form, giving you a hunch of where and in who his intention lies with. 

Before you have the chance to do anything ‒ alert someone in the household or stay and figure out what the stranger would want with Namjoon, a sharp jab lands at the back of your head and you grimace, falling unconscious within seconds. 

***

Droplets of water fall down from the ceiling. 

Your throat burns like it’s on fire, a scorching sensation that makes seem as if you haven’t had a drink of water in days. Locks of your hair are dripping with sweat, and your vision is foggy, barely able to see through the dim lighting of the room. 

Letting out a cough and then a groan, you squeeze your eyes shut before opening them fully, squinting to to focus in on your surroundings. The room is still dark, but there’s a faint light in the corner that allows you to make out the outlines of the silhouettes in front of you. 

Namjoon is stationed on a chair, his hands out of sight and pushed behind him. He appears to be still unconscious, his eyelids drooping down. 

You peer down, discovering that you’re in the same state as him ‒ confined to a chair with the unsettling feeling of something beginning to deeply cut through your wrists. Attempting to experiment, you give a slight tug and immediately a sharp pain shoots through your hands. It gives you a strong indication of what’s pinning you down, especially when your fingertips glide over the prickly thick material. 

“You idiot! Why did you bring her too?!” 

A loud and gritty voice suddenly shouts, causing you to wince, “She was with him when I knocked him out! What else was I supposed to do?!” 

There’s a sound of resentment from the first individual before silence dips, and you take it upon yourself to quickly figure your way out of your confinement. You tug against the bindings roughly, ignoring the prickly sensation that stabs into your skin and brings tears into your eyes. Repeating the gesture, you can only hope that the bristly rope will begin to loosen. 

But that’s when your harsh movements result in your chair shifting. 

One of them snaps their head up immediately, treading in your direction. His heavy steps, coupled with his gritty voice that you heard, causes you to stiffen. Once he approaches you, you notice that his black attire conveniently seals him away from your prying eyes. 

He grabs the back of your chair and immediately your breath hitches. As you glance up and your heart palpitates rapidly, you attempt to think of a way out, anything that could help you get out of this situation. 

Your flickering eyes meet Namjoon’s chair, only to discover in relief at his slow stirring, blinking his eyes and attempting to squint through the poor lighting of the room.  

The second individual approaches, “So what do we do? Kill them both?” 

“Of course we kill them both! What other option is there?!” 

Abruptly a fistful of your hair is tugged up from behind. A hiss leaves your lips, but it’s not long before a cold piece of metal is pressed against your scalp. 

From your frontal view, you notice the first man walks over and does the same thing to Namjoon as he grimaces. 

“Wait.” 

The second man holding a gun to your head looks up, appearing confused. Your eyes frantically follow his field of vision across, noticing the first man to be smirking. 

“Untie her.” 

“What?” 

“Just do it!” 

He obliges, loosening the rope from your hands until it drops down. He tightly keeps a hold around your wrists as a form of constriction, before glancing back up for further instructions. 

A gun is tossed over in his direction. 

He catches it immediately, appearing even more puzzled, “What’s this for?” 

The first man’s grin grows wider. “We’re going to have her kill him.” 

“What? Why?”

The first man leaves Namjoon, striding over to your side. He takes the gun he’s tossed onto the ground, shoving it straight into your hands as you reluctantly accept it. 

“She’s an add on,” He smiles, “and the perfect way we can cover up our tracks.” 

Something gleams within his partner’s eyes, a sickening smile stretching over his lips and showcasing his pearl teeth to you. It elicits shivers to run down your spine and their next statement makes your stomach churn. 

“After this, we’ll just discard her somewhere.” 

Their conversation is abruptly cut off as they redirect their attention back to you, forcibly lining your gun wielding arm towards Namjoon, resulting in your eyes suddenly coming into contact with his wide ones. 

They reflect your own, spelling out one message that you can read so clearly. 

There’s terror in his eyes.

A soft click sounds from your left side and you look over to discover the first man keeping a gun right next to your head. 

“Now, if you don’t want to die yourself.” He obscenely grins, “Shoot him.” 

Colour drains from your features, your hands beginning to uncontrollably tremble. 

The baneful thoughts begin to slip in too easily.

One bullet. 

One bullet, and this all will be over. 

Your next mission will be finally complete. 

All it would take…..

Is just one bullet. 

“Are you deaf?!” The man screams into your ear, “I said shoot him!” 

The gun digs harder into your scalp, making you jolt and wince at the same time. 

Namjoon isn’t looking at you. His gaze has drifted over to the ground, his head lowered. 

Your heart viciously pounds against your ribcage and unknown to you, hot tears have begun to roll down the corner of your eyes. 

“SHOOT HIM!” 

“I CAN’T!” 

Your chest heaves, vision blurring before your voice comes out as a soft sob, “I-I just c-can’t…” 

“Y/N.” 

The soft call of your name results in your head snapping, eyes immediately coming into contact with Namjoon’s. His eyes have become glossy and the sight of a sad smile lining his lips makes your chest constrict. 

“Y/N...it’s okay.” He whispers, his words serving to only increase the tightening of your chest. He briefly looks down at the ground, before raising his head to meet your gaze again. You can clearly notice the water shimmering within his eyes and as he speaks, his voice cracks. 

“J-Just‒….just complete your mission.” 

Your breathing stops. 

The longer he stares at you, the more it feels as if your knees are about to give out. 

You still point a gun in his direction, but it’s accompanied with broken words, your voice barely coming out as a whisper. 

“Y-You knew….” 

Before you have the chance to say anything else, a hand grabs onto your wrist and snatches the gun away from you. 

“Just kill them both already!” 

Life suddenly enters your eyes again and with a grunt, your hand comes into direct contact with your kidnapper’s face. He stumbles back instantly, allowing you to quickly snag the gun and point it in his direction. 

He freezes, glancing at his partner that holds Namjoon at gunpoint. 

His partner snarls at you, “Let go of him!”

Your cold eyes don’t budge in the slightest, “Not a chance.” 

Namjoon remains completely still, his eyes flickering over to you. 

There’s a voice inside your head that is screaming. Telling you to turn back. Begging you to come back to your senses. 

The mission will be compromised. 

He will be able to kill you. 

You will be destroyed. 

But this time, you fight back with just as much vigor. 

Then so be it. 

Your hand instantly whips around, aiming for the man that is pointing his gun at Namjoon. 

Your bullet punctures right into his neck. 

Blood splatters onto the floor and leaks alarmingly from his mouth as he crumbles to the ground. However, he doesn’t loosen his firm hold on Namjoon’s suit and that’s when you rush over, wrenching his hand off and leaving him to submerge within a pool of his own blood. 

You hurriedly bend down and undo the bindings on Namjoon’s hands, a sound of dismay leaving you when you notice his partner nowhere in sight. The moment Namjoon is free and he turns around, you immediately leap forward and hug him with a sigh of relief. 

“Are you okay?” 

Namjoon stares at you with a mixture of utter shock and bewilderment. Nonetheless, you still grab onto his hand, getting him to rise up from the ground. 

“Come on, we have to get out of here!” 

You quickly head out of the room with Namjoon trailing behind you, making sure to keep a firm hold on the gun in your hands. At one point the infrastructure and lack of light begins to confuse you on locating the exit, but Namjoon suddenly speeds up, taking the lead and guiding you instead. 

The view of a thick steel door with light attempting to pool inside greets you and you exponentially increase your speed. 

Suddenly your hold slips from Namjoon’s grasp and you slam against the ground harshly. 

“Y/N!” 

You can feel the sensation of fingers wrapping around your leg, turning around to see the man’s partner tight grip rendering you immobile. You attempt to shake him off, but his grip only tightens in retaliation. 

The next couple of seconds is a complete blur to you. You can barely pick up on the way Namjoon swiftly reaches out, landing a forceful punch right against the man’s nose before grabbing and securing his hand within yours again. 

He tugs you up right away, “Come on!” 

Scrambling to your feet, you briefly look behind you, eyes widening in astonishment as to how the man’s partner is currently writhing on the ground, holding his nose in pain as copious amounts of blood drips down his knuckles. 

Turning around, both of you make it to the exit and Namjoon roughly pushes against it with his shoulder. 

You escape into the light.