#No actually they make me feel alive and emotional and inspired and i have fun thank you

[cirilya]

Guys im so excited for silent hill 2 remake i love the edits i love the vibes i love how it already has high ratings on steam i'm gonna explode i swear. I'm so happy that i'm that kind of person who doesn't really regret spending money on games because oh looord i can already imagine spending a few evenings having the time of my lifeeee even if it's for 300pln so like 70usd whatthefuckever!!

[trashart00]

Less than 12 hours until the release of “The Tortured Poets Department”!

Hence, I present to you, “The Tortured Catboy Department”

Track List:

SIDE A: Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug) / The Tortured Catboy Department / My Lady Abandons Only Her Favourite Partners / Down Bad

SIDE B: So Long, London / But Daddy I Love Her / Fresh Out the Slammer / Akuma !!! (feat Monarch)

SIDE C: Guilty As Sin? / Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me / Even Ladybug Can’t Fix This / loml

SIDE D: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart / The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived / The Cataclysm / Adrien Agreste

Bonus Tracks: The Black Cat / Solitude / Doppelgänger / Tell-Tail Heart

(Love how so many of the original track names still work)

My takes of what each song is about/inspired by under cut (but, if you feel like it, tell me yours :D)

I’m picturing all of these to be from Adrien’s perspective so they reflect mostly his version of the situations rather than the objective reality (especially the Laybug centered ones)

Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug): This one would focus on the sequence in Multiplication where Monarch doesn’t attack and how LadyNoir’s relationship recovers from the events of Season 4.

TTCD: Kept the “Catboy” singular because while there are multiple Catboy identities, there is only one boy underneath them all. Hence while I think it would be about him just stating his issues with everything, it would also focus on loneliness and how his department is understaffed :(

MLAOHFP: All of the Season 4 LadyNoir separation arc angst, with the “Favourite” being a callback to Risk (and kinda a jab at Rena because he thinks that she’s really her favourite, but y’ know, she didn’t abandon her so Rena can’t be her actual favourite)

Down Bad: Mainly about how Chat’s love for LB makes him excuse her behaviors, but also makes him act out (maybe a reference to Elation).

SL,L: About the whole arc of Gabriel sending Adrien to London and all of the memories he would have surrounding this ordeal - key point, not “So Long, Paris” because he didn’t want to leave, and in the end he comes back to a changed world.

BDILH: This one’s either about the Chat Blanc breakup or Gabriel’s dislike of Marinette in Season 5 (or both, with maybe a line about how he feels like this has happened before)

FOTS: Adrien realizing his father is a Bad Person.

Akuma !!! (feat Monarch): This one would be like a song about his daily life and then the chorus would start with a shout of “Akuma!!!” and it would switch to him as Chat Noir. I feel like it would start out with normal life being boring/hero life being fun but as it goes on he grows exhausted. Monarch has a rap verse.

Guilty As Sin?: Chat Blanc centeric - would ask who is to blame for the destruction of the world, like is it Chat because he lost control or Hawkmoth because he took advantage of his son’s emotion?

WAoLOM: Chat Blanc centric at first (like a villain song) but ends with Adrien reflecting on the events of Evolution-Destruction-Multiplication-PS night

ELCFT: I think it would be about his relaction ship with his father and how he wishes there was something he could do to go back to how they were when Emilie was alive but there’s no easy fix and his father keeps on getting worse and worse after any attempt.

loml: A song for Marinette with a bittersweet air - she’s the love of his life but he can’t tell her everything, and she can’t tell him everything either

ICDIWaBH: CatWalker centric - him going back to Ladybug in Kuroneko.

TSMWEL: I actually have three for this one - 1. About Gabriel and his need to domineer because he feels small and powerless. 2. About Adrien feeling small and insignificant. 3.About Plagg because he’s a smol boi (it would be like a lighthearted, cheeky song, like when you sing to your pet about how adorable they are)

The Cataclysm: Literally about how he cataclysmed Monarch, but also about how the event impacted his perception of self.

Adrien Agreste: Ending the album with a song that’s his own name :o.

Now for the variants:

The Black Cat: This one has Chat on the cover and the song is mostly about his bad luck. ‘I Love You It’s Ruining My Life” works both directed at Ladybug and his father.

Solitude: With Chat Blanc on the cover, this one’s about his mother. I think the “You Don’t Get To Tell Me About Sad” is pretty self-explanatory.

Doppelgänger: CatWalker is on this one, his song would be about how he may literally be the same person but he doesn’t fully feel like himself. He had to repress a lot of himself to be CatWalker hence I thought “Am I Allowed To Cry?” fit him really well (especially with Plagg not giving him the time to fully recover before he had to jump back in). Please note the crossed out name (unlike Chat Blanc) because he’s reinventing himself.

Tell-Tail Heart: This one has Ladybug on the cover - wait she’s not a Catboy?? The song is titled “Tell-Tail Heart” as a reference to Edgar Allan Poe’s “Tell Tale Heart” and would explore Chat’s perspective of Ladybug’s guilt for keeping secrets, how any excuse she makes is ultimately unimportant because she would do it either way. The fact that this is the only song title with a pun references how Chat tries to lighten the mood and avoid serious conversations, and the “Tail” is supposed to refer to Rena Rouge. The flowers she’s holding are meant to be foxgloves which symbolise secrets and insincerity (they’re also poisonous and damage the heart :)). I also really liked the “Old Habits Die Screaming” for her as it could mean both Chat Noir’s love for her being an old habit that he cannot get rid of, but also her habit of keeping things from him (especially with how she does it again at the end of season 5) being something she can’t stop. It is also him being able to see that, despite what she tells him, her “Heart” is tells him otherwise.

(also would like to point out that he wouldn’t mention Rena by name, he’s upset, not evil)

[rinanar]

Headcanons of Gun, Goo, Kwak brothers, Jake, Vasco, and Jay (separately, feel free to exclude some characters if you want) with a little brother reader who'd often just go silent and not move an inch whenever he got hurt, especially if the pain was intense, staring off into space— under the pretence of 'if I stop moving the pain will go away/won't hurt as much'. This would worry our older brother(s) a lot because "my little brother just got hit/injured why isn't he moving??"

Inspired by me doing the exact same. Does it make the pain go away? No, but not moving lessens the pain, kind of 😭

Thank you in advance! Feel free to ignore this if it isn't your cup of tea! ^^

MOVE, PLEASE ! HCS

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character/s : Kwak brothers , Gimyung Kim , Euntae Lee , Jaeyeol Hong

type : headcanons — platonic , fluff — m!reader — NOT X READER

warning/s - details : injuries (some major, some minor.)

a/n : excluded gun and goo because I don't know how to portray them with this concept (⁠个⁠_⁠个⁠)

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─୨.･❀.･ৎ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

KWAK BROTHERS : (Jichang, Jibeom, Jihan)

- When it happened the first time, Two of them (ehem, Jibeom and Jihan) were practically shaking you.

- They pulled you back and forth, begging for you to move, but when Jichang smacked both of them on the head, they finally realized you were breathing the whole time.

- Your head probably hurts even more from their reaction, actually.

- When you explained that when you moved less, it wouldn't hurt as much, and they understood, really. But they asked you to talk, even just a little so they know you're alive.

- And to be honest, the three of them probably have gotten used to it as the time went on.

- It's either they're scolding, making fun of you as a joke while patching you up (Jihan), or staying silent, glaring at you (they're just making sure you're alive

- But something that's even worse, is that when Jihan starts babying you, starts treating you like a little kid, that you need to stop being so careless, you almost wanted to strangle him that time.

GIMYUNG KIM : (JAKE KIM)

- Honestly, after feeling a little inferior to Gitae, I think he'd care a lot about you

- He'll treat you like the little brother Gitae never treated him

- When it happened the first time, not to be dramatic, but he thought he failed as a brother.

- But when he found out you were alive, he was just..silent, but if you couldn't tell, he was half glad

- And half concerned

- And half mad because you were careless

- After patching you up, he'll probably still be quiet to let you rest or from shock

- He'll probably also ask you questions from time to time about that habit of yours. Sometimes he jokes about it too (no one laughs ngl, maybe except you)

- But as long as it helps you, he's glad

- Maybe he'll nag you about being more careful too

EUNTAE LEE : (VASCO)

- Cue never-ending questions the first time he found out about it

- What do you mean you stop moving if the pain gets intense??? Hello???

- You actually warned him about it first before it happened.

- But when it happens, his mind goes blank and forgets what you told him

- Every time this happens, he always thinks your dead

- He's crying and getting emotional and stuff then Jace comforts him too (because he's unaware about your habit) while you're staring at him blankly, waiting for him to help

- He's a little dumb and confused but he's trying

- But seriously, whose mind wouldn't go blank if they saw their little brother bloody and staring off to space???

JAEYEOL HONG : (JAY HONG)

- Like Gimyung, he goes into shock

- But he's a little more dramatic. He can't express himself through words, but he's very expressive when he's scared, mind you

- He's quick to regain his composure though

- Then he loses it again for some reason

- He's desperately trying to stop your bleeding, he's so frantic he doesn't realize you're breathing lol

- He almost cried— actually, he IS crying, a little, maybe.

- He's crying while he hugs you so tightly it hurts, seriously

- Like he can't lose another family, please don't die, and be more careful

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─୨.･❀.･ৎ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

[drivestraight]

Do you have any irl refernces (interviews etc) that inspired your characterization of oscar in eta?? I loved it so so much and while i do think hes got that Dawg in him irl, hes also pretty unanimously described as "nice" by everyone whos worked with him and id love to know where u found inspo for the more "grimy" parts of the story since hes so 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️irl

long answer under the cut about how i approached writing/characterizing oscar in eat them alive!

and thank you for the really interesting ask !! it was fun to respond to :)

the approach

for me it was like. less about looking for more "grimy" parts of him, or about seeing things in articles that would believe me to think he could be that ruthless and heartless on track, and instead starting off with a solid characterization for him in general (someone with a vivid and emotional internal life that just doesn't come out at all onto the surface), and seeing where i could go from there, what events/interactions could push him further off the edge, make the nice and unflappable crack, and bring that intense interiority to the surface. qatar was the endgame i wanted - i needed to figure out how to get there, how to get to a believable "transformation," and how to start in a way that felt closest to reality but still leave things open for a fun development.

interiority/externality

like, as careful, thoughtful, and intentional as oscar is in the fic, i also needed there to be a sort of friction between his intentions and the actual actions he decides to take, a sort of indecision but at the same time impulsiveness to all the nonactions/actions he takes that push the narrative forward/backfire/lead him into making all the mistakes as he does. to make it feel inevitable, and believable. how as much as he tries to control things, things spiral out of control.

he starts out from a place of care, or at least what he thinks is care, with lando (off the track), re: texting him after ad24 and backing off once it becomes clear lando doesn't want to talk to him (even if it was mistaken) and giving him space, re: checking in on him after silverstone25, re: not wanting to leave mclaren (partially) because of him, re: leaving mclaren, entirely, because of him, re: not telling lando he's leaving, because he doesn't want to hurt him. how it comes from a place of care but he often goes about things the wrong way, and how that leads him to where he is by the end of 2026.

the racing

but at the same time - the racing comes first. it always comes first. so that also helps create the sort of friction/dissonance i was looking for, shaping the decisions he makes. he'll prioritize putting himself first on track, even if it means he won't be able to do what he needs to do off track (this i think caused the most issues between him and lando, and is the reason why maxcar ended up working so well. because max not only understood it, what it mean to sacrifice everything for racing, but also because max has no more stakes in the game).

and, of course, i think the whole hungary/abu dhabi 2024 events really shaped why it was so hard between him and lando. those were the inciting incidents, the impetus to why things happened the way they did, and how oscar was shaped by them. lando NOT giving the place back in hungary 2024 sort of brings more to the surface how oscar deals with racing in the fic. what's on the track WILL stay on the track. he still got along with lando fine after hungary. off the track. there was still that dissonance on it vs off of it. so by abu dhabi 2024, he was like - this is how we'll play the game. so we'll play it this way. no hard feelings. no grudges. this is just how things will go.

but of course, it doesn't work that way, not for everyone.

pressure

and also what i was thinking about was how to build pressure. the constant tabloid gossip - the nicknames calling him a traitor, and the constant crediting of mark for all of oscar's success/oscar's seat at red bull. the constant slander by the british media, everyone over the course of 2 years (except for max, mark, and red bull) seeing him and TREATING him like a bad person (specifically, max f, george, daniel, and even his sister). and how, at the same time, it's not like any of them are in the wrong.

his mistakes/shortcomings had to be believable and the response to them had to be justified, but i also couldn't villanize him. his POV/reasoning had to be both flawed but convincing, and you also had to believe why he does all the things he does. how all of that pressure leads him to crack in qatar.

so these were the thoughts behind it.

but of course, i did some reading/research that, like, helped solidify this starting point and help shape it into something more full of life/less nebulous as an idea.

references

TO ACTUALLY ANSWER YOUR QUESTION. i don't think i based the characterization heavily off any interviews/things in particular, it was mostly about me reading things/listening to things along the way that just helped shape the characterization as i was developing and writing the fic.

just as a general thing, when i'm writing, i try not to hyperfixate too much on like, what's out there. MOSTLY BECAUSE:

when i'm not writing, i absorb quite a lot of stuff about the drivers i like anyways. i don't think i was as tapped into oscar last year, but this year as i've started to like him more and more, and write him more and more, i've just gained an understanding via osmosis of what's put out.

i think there's like, a limit to characterization via interviews/IRL. it's like kind of logarithmic. in that, you're only going to get so much, and the more you consume the less you'll actually get out of it when trying to produce a characterization from RPF. the approach i like best and i find works for me the best is to have the foundations, and build something interesting from there even if it's not 100% there IRL. it's more about having it be believable and full of heart and thoughtfulness, than it is about having it be 100% accurate, because you're never going to be 100% accurate.

however, i firstly listened to oscar's beyond the grid podcast, as well as rewatched the pitstop podcast he did in late 2022, and then nicole's beyond the grid podcast.

nicole's was really striking to me, because she told the story about how she and oscar were off biking, and she fell/had a minor accident (she was okay after it), and when they checked oscar's heart monitor on his fitbit afterwards, his heart rate was completely calm except it spiked when she fell. like, Obviously, but the fact that it was a story she remembers/something that stood out to her kind of, like, helped me shape oscar's external perception.

and like, i feel like in nearly every interview oscar or someone close to oscar does (re: nicole, mark webber, tom stallard), they're always talking about how cool and unfazed oscar is. it's just - a very present perception of him.

i don't remember what interview it was, but oscar sometime this year was asked about mclaren fighting for the WCC, and the interviewer was like, so you think you can win the title? and oscar just smiled and said, well we're not here to finish second, so.

it's that sort of hunger that i think is obviously present in all the drivers but, with oscar, it's like - i feel like he's talked about being cool and unemotional so often that it overshadows the very present sort of desire to win in him. like it's THERE. you just have to look past the outside.

(but even ON the outside. like. his deadpan matter of fact voice really does a lot to build up this whole unemotional exterior. because my god. oscar at all times is so geeked up about everything. his facial expressions are so animated, he giggles a lot, makes really intense eye contact, is so passionate about all sports, is so visibly excited whenever he's talking to other athletes outside of f1, etc.)

BUT OKAY. maybe to contradict myself. i literally can't remember what interview it was, or even if it was a specific one and not oscar's responses pieced together from multiple interviews. BUT I VIVIDLY REMEMBER oscar talking about how he DOES get angry and emotional etc. when he's in the car, but he just doesn't think it's worth it to show, or to click on the radio and complain about it (this might've been about carlos... i can't really remember). how he said, i think, iirc, that it kind of bothers him when people talk about him like he's unemotional. THAT is probably one of the driving forces for how i write oscar (i started writing oscar like... around may this year, and this is something i remember from really early on, and i didn't, like, actively keep it in mind when writing this fic, but it's something that's stayed with me). like, this whole thing is a thesis statement for me, strengthened even more by nicole's podcast, where she talks about how oscar's bad at answering the phone, how it often seems like he doesn't care, but she knows that he really is. all of that sort of stuff.

ANYWAY this got way way longer than it should've. enough that i put section headers. but. hope this at least somewhat answered your question...

tldr i listened to 3 podcasts i can name off the top of my head, and read articles that i can't remember/didn't link along the way. ❤️

[indigochromatic]

Another One Of Those Advice-for-New-Systems Posts

Saw one of these going around recently and got inspired. I wouldn't call this advice list the "evil edition", more like the... "do no harm but take no shit" edition X'D

Be on each other's team first, before anything else. Everything gets easier when you're facing it together.

Trying to avoid being (or looking) cringe is a fool's errand. If you would have to bend yourselves into a conciliatory pretzel in order to make a person like you or a social circle accept you, those people are not worth your time.

When you inevitably get hit with episodes of anxious system-doubt, (it's a pretty universal experience, I promise), take a second to pause. What's the longest span of time you've had so far without any "system stuff" (comments in co-con, switches, notes left for you, etc) happening? Say it's a week. Take that time span, double it, and then tell yourself that you are not allowed to seriously, actually start doubting until that long from now (e.g. 2 weeks). "But I'm so sure I'm definitely just faking it!" okay, hey, alright--if that's true, it'll still be true in 2 weeks. You can wait to find out, it's okay.

Be kind to everything in your head anyways, even in the middle of a doubt episode, because that's equally important for singlets to do and not just limited to systems. "Just part of me talking to myself" is as worthy of respect and kindness as an autonomous system member.

Also, keep notes somewhere of Hilariously Plural stuff that happens to you. It'll be good reassurance, but even more importantly, it'll be really funny to look back on later.

Labels are tools to help you communicate your experiences, not boxes you have to sort yourselves into.

The magic question isn't about labels or validity or trauma. It's "What do we need? What do each of us need, individually? What support would help us?"

Don't get too caught up in online system communities. Especially 1) endless tilting-at-windmills debates, and 2) advice channels and feeling obligated to give advice and emotional support to everyone who looks like they might want it. (Note: it's not bad to give advice, but it can be very easy to make a habit of overextending yourselves to care for others instead of yourselves--quite often because your own problems are hard and scary, bc otherwise you would have solved them already, and other peoples' issues can feel a lot more tractable and easier to address.)

Do find people and communities where you feel safe to be yourselves, and where people get to know you for your interests and perspectives and senses of humor, not only for your demographic labels.

It's okay to not know everything or figure everything out right away. There will be changes, there will be surprises, and that's good and normal and part of being alive.

Have fun on purpose. Lean into having fun with being a system, even if fun moments are rare and fleeting at first. Make in-jokes, encourage each other's angsty poetry habits, leave each other notes (even if you share memories), end up with massive crushes on each other, daydream together, hold each other when one (or more) of you is sad. Find things about each other you're grateful for, that you admire and want to learn from, that you enjoy.

[vyl3tpwny]

Hi!! I wanted to drop a message saying that I love your music. Antonymph was vital in helping me embrace myself. It’s one of my favorite songs by you, actually. As a creative myself, a lot of your music resonates with me, so I find myself replaying the same albums over and over and over.

The Paradise Valley mixtape really hits home with me on a lot of things discussed in the booklet. The Fish Whisperer album is one of my comfort albums that I listen to when I need a push forward to create. “I’ve still got something to teach you” is genuinely such a comforting song for me.

Your music is deeply inspiring and I can’t wait to listen to the songs you make in the future. Thank you for speaking on the things I don’t see many people talk about, for making songs that cover such important topics.

Btw I’m deeply hyperfixated on the Vylet Pony lore now

thank u so much!

i talk about this a lot but i really enjoy writing music about everything. i didn't used to be like this, it's sort of a thing i developed over a long period of time. it's a fun thing experience something or think of something and realize i've never rlly heard a song that talks about it, at least in the capacity i want to. it's kind of a challenge, but it feels like being able to put a shorthand marker on complicated emotions and situations that people do experience but never think to actually find unity in. i'm rambling, but i love doing things that encapsulate that.

the vylet pony lore goes way deeper than i think most people realize too. the stories i've been writing and building off of range back quite literally to 2012. some of the issues i'm faced with though are that a lot of what i've written in the past is underdeveloped or completely unfocused in the ways i would be able to remedy now. building off of things from that time period is a struggle. my hope is to bring things together succinctly so i can keep it alive while also having freedom to do more full bodied ideas with the knowledge and experience i have now.

[esshetic]

Leo Season: Its In Your Mind

Leo Season and Leo New Moon.

There is nobody who enjoys their season like the Leo in your life, and I always enjoy celebrating Leo's birthday with them. I don’t enjoy my birthday, so it always feels like a burden to celebrate, but the way Leo takes pride in their season makes me feel super happy and warm.

This is LEO; it is the sun that basks down on you, makes your skin bronze, makes your eyes glisten, and just makes you look your best.

The Leo New Moon takes place on the 4th of August, while race riots have broken out in the UK, with the ‘Far Right’ enacting violence on anyone that is not ‘white’ in England. My biggest fear as someone who came to the UK as a 1-year-old and has lived my life with the feeling of unwantedness, hostility, and belonging nowhere, so this is highlighting all my fears about myself and illegitimacy in the UK.

The hostility, shame, and subsequent bending over backward to appease, helplessness, and simmering anger and volatility of what I may do if I have to be faced with racist abuse through this time.

Something inevitable that was simmering under the surface needed to erupt, Uranus square maybe, perhaps the full moon in Aquarius on the 19th of August, Aquarius being the sign of social groups and movement, this purging was needed to highlight ills in society that now have to be addressed, things coming back to community control and influence. Something to explore and develop towards the building up to this full Moon.

Leo wants us to feel loved and seen and valued no matter what.

How does Leo make you feel? Where is Leo shining in your chart this season, and what are the themes for you?

Leo - it is about you, a glow-up, but you are always shining, so it's more to know that you are doing amazing; all you have to do is be yourself.

Virgo - it's about your money, if you want that pay rise, you will need to believe that you deserve it.

Libra - it's about the space you occupy in the world and your head, do you live full-time in your head?

Scorpio - Leo fills you with a simmering rage at how easily they bask in the light and lack humility the way you think everyone needs to. Not everyone is so controlling with their emotions!

Sagittarius - Leo makes you feel seen in your own joy and makes you feel alive to be yourself.

Capricorn - Leo shines down on the seeds that you planted and provides nutrients to see them grow; it gives you foresight and vision.

Aquarius - Leo creates division between your heart and mind, your heart is normally carefully hidden while your head leads, it makes you forget that for a second and lead with your heart.

Pisces - Leo makes you feel motherly and protective of the innocence and light you see in others; you want to shield it from the harsh world.

Aries - Leo makes you reminisce on the past, childhood, reminding you to actually feel, you are not a robot.

Taurus - Leo is reminding you to have fun, invite more fun into your life, why so serious all the time?

Gemini - Leo invites you to big up yourself and the work you have done, your creativity is inspiring.

Cancer - Leo is asking you to slow down and savor the moment, take it moment by moment, the silence between the noise.

[sinvulkt]

⌚️ The S-Classes That I Raised Prompts ⌚️ — Han Yoojin

🎄For the Fandomtrees event ☃️

⌚️ Yoo Hyujin before regression (during Christmas time, meeting Hyunjae, Song and Yerim, other angsty stuff )

⌚️ Yoohyun decide to give in his instinct and lock up his problematic hyung so he’d finally be safe (before or after regression )

⌚️ “Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep”

⌚️ To survive (to get the time to save his loved ones), Yoojin accept to pass a subversient contract with a Transcendant (and become part of their clan - with the physical transformation it implies. Be evil, give him the tentacles he hate 😈 )

⌚️ Despite Yoojin’s best efforts, everyone dies. Everyone always dies. (And the stacking of power and memories from Last Repayment skill doesn’t help keeping a sane mind ). (Is someone (Hyunjae or Yoohyun ? ) still alive and desperately trying to help-force Yoojin to stay as such as well, or is it an infinite time loop, or just a doomed ending? ~ )

⌚️ Yoojin dies, but manages to survive through becoming a ghost (or a weak goblin thanks to Yoon yoon ). Now he just need to make his younger brother aware of his existence before Yoohyun does something drastic.

⌚️ Yoojin successfully regresses. Only, he isn’t the only one who remembers the past. (Bonus: everyone does. The relationship with his brother won’t be so easily fixed~ and Sung Hyunjae might come back lurking around for his favorite distraction :3 )

🎉 For the Smallfandomfest 🎊

⌚️ Things go wrong. Yoohyun decides to go forward with his plan to ’lock up hyung for his own good’. Now if only Yoojin actually cooperated (but both brothers are equally stubborn).

---

⌚️ Sung Hyunjae kidnaps Yoojin for a nice world-tour trip

(He felt it was his turn to have fun, and it’s not like Yoojin would take those holidays by himself, would he?). A surprising amount of people gives Sung the thumbs up after the brief moment of panic ’Yoojin disappeared’ (Yoojin really should take holiday days). Yoojin does not give the thumb up (he want to rest too, for sure! But not now- there is just- so much to do- and not on a world trip with Seasong guild leader!).

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⌚️ When dungeons appeared / instead of them, a mark appeared on people.

’H’ for heroes. ’V’ for villains. ’N’ for normal.

(Did Yoojin get N or V?~ Did Yoohyun get V or H?~ :3)

Society rebuilt itself around that. (What they didn’t know, is that those letters are attributed randomly - the tragedy that ensue is a result of people’s own actions, not a predetermined classement)

(Han Yoojin pre-regression as the local supervillain, brother of hero Yoohyun, would be fun)

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⌚️ A christmas pre-regression

(Do you feel the crushing loneliness slowly twisting my soul ?)

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⌚️ May the fire burn, everything that remains

And free our soul from, our lingering pain

---

⌚️ “Adults and children are both human. Sadness, happiness, and every other emotion—they feel them the same way. But as one gets older, the things you have to endure and the things you have to take responsability for only increase. When you want to cry, you can't cry, and when you laugh, you can't laugh—not without being aware of the people around you.

— Han Yoojin, The s classes that i raised, chap 216

5 times Han Yoojin wanted to cry/laugh but couldn’t, and 1 time he did.

(Or just whatever his quote inspire you to create)

[kouyou-arc-when]

helloo!

this is just based on a passing thought I had so it's kinda random 😅

may I ask what you HC or think about Dazai's birthday during his port mafia days? Like, do you think Mori gave him presents, did the Buraiha trio greet him, etc?

Hey there, thanks for dropping by! <3 Again, apologies for not replying earlier <3 So, this is inspired by things I've seen in Mayoi and other supplementary material, like how Osamu appears to react to holidays in general. In Mayoi Dazai has this Christmas card. In it, Mori forces him to come to this Christmas party or some sort of event like that, and Dazai looks so fucking done that he has to attend - I swear, he looks like a wet cat whenever he's upset, which is so adorable. However, he later hangs out with Ango and Oda and seems cutely happy about it. Osamu goes like "oh, we managed to gather". You can definitely see that's his comfort place - he really looks adorably peaceful in that one animation Aside from that instance, in the letter you receive when purchasing volumes on the BSD anniversary, Dazai mentions that time holds no significance for him, implying that he doesn't celebrate or enjoy anniversaries at all. I got the impression that he feels the same way about birthdays, perhaps because they serve as a reminder that he doesn't want to continue living and how much time he has spent being alive, yet not much has changed regardless. In some way, all these normal human activities people do to celebrate life are probably painful and suffocating to him. My guess is that Dazai doesn't really care much about his birthday, and it all probably meant even less to him during the Port Mafia era when he was much grumpier. He strikes me as the type of person who wouldn't even disclose his actual birthdate to others just so they wouldn't bother him. I mean the guy used to live in the most impersonally decorated shipping container in SB. However, secretly, I imagine he would make sure to spend time with Oda and Ango on his bday. He would appear more cheerful than usual, simply happy that they were able to meet. His friends wouldn't even be aware that it's a special day, but he would know, and that's all that matters. Quality time definitely feels like his love language. My guess is that the only person who'd know it's his birthday would be Mori, who would give him the most proper gift ever - a tie, suit, something of that type. Dazai would be so done with it, but he'd probably use whatever he gets, since he tends to hold onto stuff people give him? (he wore the coat Mori gave him, and cared enough to burn it, then there are the matches too). I can't imagine Mori giving him something Dazai wouldn't use - considering how classy Mori is with his gifts and lifestyle (like the guy goes everywhere with a limo).

I could also envision him using "it's my birthdaay~" as an excuse to tease Chuuya - with the latter trying to be nice to him one day of the year. He would do his most™  to be super fucking annoying and try to get away with it, saying things like "you're so mean to me on my birthday." Chuuya would probably try to tolerate him more than usual, and Dazai would keep pushing until Chuuya finally loses his patience. It'd probably be super fucking amusing to Dazai to see how much Chuuya could tolerate just because it's his special day. But yeah, I feel like Dazai would have a mix of emotions on his birthday, and he'd want to spend the day with the only people who remind him why life is actually good - Ango and, especially, Odasaku. this was a fun question to think about <3

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VIIII.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: After months of dancing around their emotions, Javier and Paloma finally address the tension between them head-on.

WORD COUNT: ~9.2k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: smuttt, bulge riding, dry humping, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being an asshole, angst, crime talk (if it's not accurate don't @ me), descriptions of violence against women, vomit mention, slut shaming(?), detective!javi is very gorgeous ME, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: we did it… we did it joe !! javi and OFC finally [REDACTED] !! thank u to everyone who has been keepin up w this foolery so far, it makes my lil heart happy to see engagement < 3 also wanna say that years of watching criminal minds is finally starting to pay off and i rly hope u guys are enjoying the crime aspect of the plot because i'm havin A LOT of fun writing and developing it !! shit is gonna get twisted and intricate so brace yourselves for where we're about to go !!! the smut in this chapter is heavily inspired by touch it by ariana grande so i def recommend giving that a listen bc i feel like it just fits their vibe so well (i may or may not have used some of the lyrics in the dialogue.. oop!) last thing sooo irrelevant but mayor abbott looks like jonathan bailey (bridgerton hive RISE!!) in my head so take that as u will xoxo always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

As the sun casts its golden rays over the quiet outskirts of town, a grim discovery awaits the two men. The body of Jessica Valdez, the young girl reported missing from their neighboring town, lies lifeless in a shallow ditch. Javier stands beside Sheriff Leighton, their expressions grave as they survey the scene before them.

Reporters and curious onlookers have gathered, drawn by the spectacle of flashing lights and the somber atmosphere. A small group of people whisper amongst themselves, their hushed tones mingling with the distant sound of camera shutters clicking.

Romeo’s authoritative presence looms beside him, a pillar of strength in the face of another tragedy. His eyes narrow as they push through the gathered crowd, commanding respect and order in the chaotic scene.

They duck beneath the yellow crime scene tape, ignoring the questions being hurled at them by the press.

“Are there any indications of a motive for this murder?” 

“Is this connected to the similar incidents in the area recently?”

“Is there anything the public can do to assist with the investigation?”

Javier’s stomach churns with sorrow as he takes in the sight. The body lies face down and sprawled in the dirt. He clenches his jaw, steeling himself against the wave of frustration threatening to overwhelm him.

Another failure on their behalf and all he can think about is the kiss shared between him and Paloma.

“Talk to us, Cecelia.” 

“Well, at first glance: the body is still fairly warm so she was alive a few hours ago. It looks like she was held captive somewhere due to the bruising on her wrists and ankles. There are signs of malnourishment and she has smaller injuries scattered throughout her body. I won’t know more details until I do the autopsy.” The coroner answers before continuing,” Her chest is completely slashed through, just like all the others. Still our guy. Or girl–– you never know nowadays.” 

Javier’s jaw flexes out of exasperation, mirroring the heavy sigh that escapes the sheriff’s lips. The weight of this repeated revelation settles over them like a suffocating blanket, casting a shadow over their efforts to uncover the truth.

Despite their tireless pursuit of justice, they find themselves no closer to catching the culprit or unraveling the mystery shrouding these towns. It’s fucking infuriating. 

Amidst the tangled threads of his personal life, Javier has momentarily lost sight of his purpose for being here. He has been too immersed in his own character transformation and entanglement with Paloma, overlooking the harrowing reality unfolding around him: innocent women continuing to fall victim to brutal, senseless violence.

The gravity of his oversight has a mixture of guilt and despair settling deep within his chest. 

Javier prides himself on his prowess, his ability to navigate the most intricate of cases and weather the toughest of storms. As a seasoned field agent with a string of accolades to his name (some undeserved, others very well deserved), he’s faced down challenges that would make others quiver.

Yet here he stands, feeling utterly impotent in the face of this whodunit in the confines of a sleepy town.

It gnaws at him, this sense of inadequacy, like a persistent itch he can’t scratch. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, a humbling reminder of the unpredictable nature of crime and the limits of his own expertise.

He needs to be better.

“What’s interestin’, though, is this,” She stands, motioning for the two men to follow her and they share a look before wordlessly complying. Cecelia hands them both a pair of latex gloves, instructing them to put them on.

They make it a few feet away from Jessica’s body and that’s when Javi sees it.

“Is that vomit?” 

Cecelia nods, “It is. I’m betting it’s hers. The interestin’ bit isn’t that she vomited–– but the contents. Take a look. Tell me what you see.” 

Javier is the first to kneel with Romeo looking over his shoulder. He eyes the evidence, pushing his aviators to the top of his head, making out the larger chunks in the grossly colored bile.

He can’t discern what it is right away and Cecelia encourages him to use his hands, which has him looking at her ludicrously and muttering how gross this shit is in Spanish before doing as suggested.

Poking his latex clad fingers in the mess, Javi analyzes the contents and that’s when he sees a symbol marked in ink on one of the scraps.

“It’s flesh. Human flesh.” 

Shit. He sees it now, the mark is a tattoo and he quickly barks out an order to have one of the lingering deputies come take pictures of it.

“Son of a bitch is feedin’ people… people. Would explain Nina Thorton’s missin’ leg. What the fuck is goin’ on here?” The sheriff sounds defeated and Javier just remains silent as he mulls over all this new information that’s been revealed.

Kidnapped, held hostage, fed human flesh, murdered, dumped.

All the other victims up until now have only been taken then killed. None of them held captive for long. Not all of them consuming flesh.

But then there’s Nina and her postmortem severed leg.

Fuck, the answer is right there, interwoven in the intricacies and lack of details in the cases. 

No more fucking around, no more helping girls sneak back inside their homes, no more distractions. He has to focus on doing his job.

He will catch who did this, he will prove himself to be qualified to do what he was brought here to do.

Javier remains kneeled and deep in thought as Romeo and Cecelia continue on with their observations. He looks around to study their surroundings, wondering if there is anything else that is right in front of him that he cannot see.

“Three outta five have been brunettes around the same age. I think that’s something worth considering now,” Javier breaks up the conversation betweens the sheriff and coroner, both of them turning to look at him as he stands from his kneeled position and begins to take off the gloves,” Seems like they found their type. There’s got to be a purpose for the consistent victimology.” 

They’ve migrated over to Jessica’s body now, both men doing last minute look overs before she is transported back to her hometown for her parents to identify and for Cecelia to preform the autopsy.

When a deputy comes over to take the last bits of photo evidence, he looks sickly but Javier ignores it. It’s not until her body is turned upright, exposing her mauled chest, that has the younger officer hurling over and throwing up, some of it landing on Romeo.

“God fuckin’ damn it, Andrews, spew that shit elsewhere. Fuck, not only are you contaminatin’ the crime scene but you got it all over my damn pants.” 

The sheriff goes on a tangent, chewing the officer out and threatening to suspend him for two weeks with no pay. It’s harsh, Javier will admit, but he doesn’t say anything, remaining stoic with his arms crossed against his chest as he watches it unfold.

Eventually, everyone trickles out. Even the nosey reporters and townies. Javier wants to stay, walk around the area to see if anything else was left behind. Maybe something was dropped or buried nearby, and while they had assured him that others have already done a thorough search–– he’d feel more comfortable if he did it himself.

“Ya mind stoppin’ by my place so I can change? Kid ruined these.” Romeo’s gruff voice has Javier losing his train of thought, too engrossed in looking out into the vast area of the woods as the sun slowly begins to set. 

Right, they arrived together, driving from the station in Javier’s cruiser.

“Sure.” He replies plainly. His plans for the evening now include getting Romeo situated so that he can come back here and investigate all on his own. He might even drive to Fayette to retrieve the autopsy from Cecelia as soon as she completes it.

With the Leighton home being on the other side of town, this gives the two men time to talk the case over; going over all that they know and all that they’ve discovered. Romeo confides in Javier about feeling inadequate about the way he’s doing his job and, in a turn of events, Javier does the same. In his own way.

The mutual understanding is a relief, though the guilt of his kiss with Paloma is palpable and it makes Javi feel like a fraud.

Across from him is a man who has extended nothing but kindness and trust, offering camaraderie and a sense of belonging. Yet, despite this, Javier found himself drawn to his daughter in a way that was both exhilarating and forbidden.

It feels wrong, achingly so. A bitter realization that despite their mutual longing, their connection can never be fully realized. It’s a harsh wake up call: if he truly wants to better himself, he must shed his bad habit of losing himself in women and distance himself from her.

What a discomforting prospect, the inevitable separation. But he knows it’s the only way forward. He understands that in time, they will both resign themselves to the reality of their infatuation.

It’s a familiar ache, this sense of inevitability that haunts his romantic endeavors like a relentless specter. Javier knows the drill all too well; it’s not his first rodeo in navigating the treacherous terrain of severing emotional ties.

His love life feels like a series of missteps, a cursed labyrinth from which there’s no escape. Despite the initial allure of each new romance, he’s come to anticipate the eventual descent into disappointment. No matter how promising the beginning, the journey always seems to lead to the same desolate destination.

With him hurting them beyond measure.

Fuck the idea of reinventing himself here. He can find peace and monotony anywhere else.

Javier will follow through with his responsibilities, and the second he’s able to peel out of Seminary–– he will, leaving her behind as a bittersweet memory. A beautiful yet unattainable dream that he will carry with him for years to come.

As they pull in to the Leighton residence, he sees the woman that lives in his head perched up on the fence that surrounds the immediate area. Her baggy jeans are hanging low, exposing the sheer fabric of her underwear. She turns as she hears the sound of a car approaching, and her lips pull into a smile once she sees who it is.

Paloma fully expected to wake up the following day filled with regret and plagued by a hangover. The only thing she experienced was the latter, but it had quickly been nursed by a greasy breakfast and some yard work.

Javier had kissed her back, that was enough to feed into her delusions that he does want her. All inhibitions have been dropped, she’s prepared to lay herself out for him–– to tell him that she’s wanted him since the moment they met.

It might seem premature, an impulsive plunge into the uncertainty of his reaction to her feelings, but the tender memory of their shared kiss eclipses all rational thought. She finds herself irresistibly drawn to the possibility of something more, unable to resist the pull of her emotions.

His touch still lingers on her skin. His hands tracing the curves of her body with a hunger that left her breathless. She can still feel the way he had grabbed her ass then gripped onto her hips, pulling her closer to him.

But it was his mouth that left the strongest impression. His tongue had explored the depths of hers, tasting and teasing her with a ferocity that made her feel alive.

In that moment, she had felt desired, cherished, and wanted. It was a feeling that she hadn’t realized she craved so badly until last night. She knew that she would never be able to forget that kiss and the way it had made her feel.

She’s giddy, her excitement bubbling up like fizzy soda, reminiscent of the first time she ever kissed a boy. Except Javier isn’t a boy–– he’s a man. A man whose expertise and skill are a potent aphrodisiac, heightening her arousal to levels she never thought possible.

She’s been hot for him all day, even touched herself to the memory of his soft lips, the tickle of his mustache, against hers then imagining them everywhere else. The mere thought of it is enough to send her heart racing, and she knows that nothing will satisfy her until she has him in her arms again.

Romeo gets out the car, muttering that he’d be right back and Javi opts to stay put. He does not want to speak to her, knowing that the second he gazes into those beautiful brown eyes–– he’d buckle. He needs to build animosity between them; it’s the only way for them to definitively be able to separate from one another.

But she doesn’t make it easy, of course. Because the second her father is inside, she’s practically skipping over to the driver’s side of the cruiser.

“Hello officer. Here to bring me in for all those crimes I committed last night?” She teases as she leans her forearms against the rolled down window, the cowgirl hat perched on her head complimenting her so well.

Javier swallows thickly, taking a lengthy drag of the familiar cigarette between his lips. He can’t outright ignore her so he decides to be short instead.

“M’not here for games, Paloma.” 

She’s taken aback by his tone, her smile faltering.

“Well excuse me for tryin’ to make conversation. Wasn’t aware that you’re in a mood today.” 

There’s a pause despite her attempt to add a teasing tone to her words to lighten him up. It falls flat.

“And I’m not looking to have a conversation. You can go.” 

Her brows cinch together at his dismissal, this is not how she was expecting for this to go.

“What’s goin on’? Is this because we… because of the kiss last night?” She lowers her voice towards the end, red blooming across her cheeks but she keeps her composure.

“Jesus,” Javier chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head. It sends a sharp pang through her heart.” Why do you always think that’s the fuckin’ problem whenever I don’t want to talk to you? For someone who claims to be a grown woman all the time, you sure as shit don’t act like it.” 

She stills, the buoyant confidence that had propelled her toward him evaporating in an instant, replaced by a wave of hurt at his unexpected chilliness. What has gotten into him?

“Drop it and move on, Paloma. We just found Jessica Valdez’s body dumped out in a ditch. S’not the time to be hung up on a damn kiss.” 

The sound of the screen door shutting close breaks her away from him and the trance she’d seemingly gone into. Another victim, another tragedy to confront… and here she is acting like a smitten teenaged girl.

The urge to cower and crawl into herself, to surrender to the overwhelming embarrassment and sorrow, threatens to engulf her entirely. She remains silent, fighting back the surge of frustrated, angry tears as she pushes off the car and trudges back toward the house.

Javier exhales heavily once she strides away without a word, feeling a weight settle on his shoulders. He had braced himself for a snide remark or some form of verbal retaliation, but her silent departure was far more impactful.

“I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up.” Her father murmurs as he passes her, planting a tender kiss atop her head. He lingers there for a moment but she doesn’t question it, knowing it’s because of what they found today and she doesn’t even mind that he hasn’t told her about it.

As he breaks away, she conjures up a semblance of a genuine smile, masking her turmoil, and nods before he affectionately pinches her nose and continues on his way.

She doesn’t look back, she doesn’t cry or go inside–– instead she picks up her discarded gardening gloves and proceeds to channel her energy into the simple act of mowing the grass.

She finds herself alone at the open bar as the party continues in full swing. It’s been days since Jessica’s death, and the tense conversation she had with Javier still lingers in her mind.

“Drop it and move on, Paloma.” 

Unlike the last time they went without speaking, there is much more tension between them now. The worst part about it is having to act as if nothing is wrong in the presence of her father.

No daddy, everything’s fine! It’s not like I threw myself at your co-worker not once, but twice and both times he made me feel like a fucking idiot!

She lets out a disdainful sigh, her fingers curling around the glass containing her coveted cherry root beer since she’s decided to part ways with alcohol and any other substance for the time being.

The two men are busy mingling with other guests and have been since the moment they arrived. Despite her efforts to divert her gaze elsewhere, her eyes keep involuntarily drifting towards Javier’s broad figure.

The event had called for formal attire, so when he strode in wearing a meticulously tailored all-black suit, her breath caught in her throat. The sharp lines of his outfit, coupled with the crispness of his button-down and the matching tie, made her momentarily forget why she was so upset with him. He looked too damn handsome.

It’s brutal how the things we desire most often seem to radiate the brightest when they’re just out of reach.

Observing him mingle effortlessly with others is entertaining. Contrary to her expectations, he appears completely at ease in this bustling social setting, a far cry from the disdain he expressed for large gatherings that morning in his kitchen.

He’s acting a lot more extroverted and… smile-y. It pisses her off as much as it melts her heart.

They make their way over to her and she makes a point to not even look in his direction. Though now she’s caught between her father and Javier as they order another round of drinks. 

It really doesn’t help that they’re shoulder to shoulder. The heady aroma of his cologne, laced with the familiar tang of cigarette smoke and the faint hint of whiskey, infiltrates her senses, making it impossible to outright ignore him.

Javier Peña is like a blazing beacon and she’s the foolish moth drawn inexplicably closer to his flame. But she knows all too well the danger of getting too close, like a moth singed by the heat, the allure of his brightness can be killer.

Javier had assumed that with news of Jessica being found dead, their attendance to this party wouldn’t be mandatory.

Well, he thought wrong. It is a cruel reminder of how life goes on, even when tragedy strikes.

Another dead girl, another over-the-top party.

Which is why he’ll give it an hour–– tops–– to shake whoever’s hand and meet whoever else, then he’d leave. It’s a simple plan, the only thing making it difficult for him is his proximity to the woman he’s desperately trying to cut ties with.

She looks so beautiful tonight, donning a calf length simple black dress that hugs all her curves just right. 

“There they are! My Law and Order! Y’all keepin’ the townsfolk in line?” The boastful voice of Mayor Jonah Abbott draws near and Javier suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.

Foolish of him to think he wouldn’t have to interact with the titular birthday boy tonight.

He greets both men with a firm handshake, and when his attention turns to her; Javier has to drown the subtle spark of frustration with his drink at the way his eyes rake over her body.

“And of course, Miss. Paloma. They say a smile is worth a thousand words, but yours? It’s worth a million dreams.” He brings her hand up to his lips to plant a kiss against her knuckles and all she does is offer him a polite smile. Here we go…

“Mr. Abbott—” 

“Jonah, sweetheart. Been tellin’ you to call me that for years now.” 

Her smile threatens to twitch out of annoyance, “Jonah. Happy Birthday. Thank you for invitin’ us to your home.” 

“Always a pleasure to have you ’round. I heard about your performance up in Dallas. Shame I missed it. Woulda loved to hear that beautiful voice of yours and seen you up on that stage.” 

Javier can’t help the subtle grunt he emits at the mayor’s overt flirtation, causing for her to just briefly glance up at him with a bemused flash crossing her stare.

The familiarity of Jonah’s behavior strikes a chord within him. Once upon a time, Javier was just like this–– an arrogant charmer with a penchant for flirting with anything in a skirt. Standing here amidst the other man’s smooth talk, he sees through the facade with clarity born of experience.

It’s a performance, an act to charm his way in between Paloma’s legs, though Javi can clearly see that she’s not falling for it. Does Romeo notice it too, he wonders? Or is he blinded by the mayor’s charisma, unable to see that this man clearly wants to sleep with his daughter.

Then again, Javier’s opinion on this is irrelevant and invalid since he too has been in the same predicament since meeting her. At least he didn’t do it blatantly in front of the sheriff’s face.

Or, in a turn of events, perhaps Romeo doesn’t give a damn. Jonah Abbott presents himself as a viable candidate to be with his daughter; a young politician with deep pockets and a keen interest in her.

Javier can’t shake off the mental picture of the man’s wedding ring adorning her finger, of her transforming into the perfect, submissive wife, tending to the household and filling this place with snot nosed kids. But such a scenario doesn’t align with her fiery and headstrong nature. She’s far too independent and spirited to succumb to the confines of domesticity, particularly for a man like Jonah.

Then again, why the fuck does he care?

“Well as you know, I do two shows every weekend at The Whiskey Fox. Could always stop by and see me and the band.” 

“A busy man like myself always has a full schedule. Though I reckon I should make some time to be out in the community. Wouldn’t hurt to stop by for dinner and a show.” 

He winks at her and of course he does it when her father turns to order himself another drink. Javier’s jaw flinches.

“Now Romeo, why have you been keepin’ this badass motherfucker hidden from me? I knew we had someone new joinin’ the force but I didn’t think it’d be the Javier Peña. A goddamn American hero— right here in Seminary, Texas!” 

As Jonah begins his praises, pairing them with a harsh slap to his shoulder, Javier remains cool and calculating. He refuses to be swayed by empty compliments.

Meanwhile, she breathes a silent sigh of relief as the spotlight shifts away from her, and she finds it amusing at how everyone seems to talk about Javier.

A hero. A true patriot. Such a brave soul for fightin’ the war on drugs on Uncle Sam’s behalf.

If only they knew the truth––if they had even a glimpse of the darkness he’s had to face, they wouldn’t be so quick to idolize him.

The label of hero, bestowed upon him since the demise of Escobar, sits uneasily on his shoulders. The adulation feels like a burden he never asked for, a title he never wanted. It’s a reminder of the complexities of his past, the mistakes he’s made, and the ghosts that continue to haunt him. Javi despises the word, resenting the way it overshadows his true self and the countless sins he harbors in silence.

“Gotta keep ’em humble. Keeps the head on straight.” Romeo banters back, pulling one of those haughty, rich men laughs from the mayor. 

She cringes at the pretentiousness echoing in the air.

The men break out into small talk leaving her feeling awkward as she swirls the almost fully melted ice around the empty cup. It’s not until Jonah is getting ready to move on to a new set of guests that the attention is turned back to her.

“And you, pretty girl, owe me a song. Specifically that one Linda Ronstadt song from the Fourth of July barbecue last year. Remember? S’only fair… consider it a birthday gift from you to me.” 

Despite her inner discomfort, she maintains a face of cheerfulness, though her stomach sinks with apprehension at his request. Memories of the barbecue flood her mind, vivid recollections of his relentless pursuit despite her repeated, albeit polite, refusals.

The word ’no’ is on the tip of her tongue, but knowing all too well the persistence he’s exhibited before; she succumbs to the weight of the occasion—his birthday—and the anticipation in his eyes.

“Blue Bayou, I remember. Does the band know it?” She inquires, her gaze flickering towards the live band stationed near the open area of the dance floor where a throng of people sway to the music.

She’s secretly hoping that they don’t, but the song is very popular so her hope dwindles.

“If they don’t, they will. I’ll introduce you when it’s time.” 

With a tight and forced smile gracing her lips, she simply replies, “Okay,” accompanied by a subtle nod. His wicked grin spreads larger, almost daring Javier to react by punching him square in the jaw.

Regardless of how he feels towards her and their situation, it irks him to no end how this man blatantly disregards her boundaries.

Her body language screams apprehension, evident to anyone observant enough. However, Mayor Abbott is too fixated on persuading her to comply with his wishes to take notice. It’s apparent that he’s not accustomed to hearing the word ’no’.

Javi just holds his tongue, an insult threatening to slip out, as he finishes his drink with a practiced air of nonchalance.

The mayor finally says his goodbyes before walking away and her shoulders drop instantly.

“Guess I owe ya twenty bucks.” Romeo mutters, digging into his suit pocket for his wallet. 

The laugh she gives, though slight, simultaneously soothes and torments his heart.

Damn it all— this is going to be torture but he must endure.

“She bet that he was gonna pull somethin’ like this before leavin’ the house. I was dumb enough to think he wouldn’t.” He explains to Javier as he slips his daughter the twenty dollar bill which she slyly stuffs under the fabric of her dress by her chest.

The action, seemingly simple, is so hot to him.

“How many times do I have to say m’not a damn show pony that does tricks whenever it’s asked? He’s so lucky that I’m polite and that it’s his birthday— If not I woulda told him to shove it—-” She doesn’t finish her sentence as they’re approached by a group of people that she doesn’t recognize nor care for.

She feels like an afterthought as they bombard the men with questions about the recent cases and other related topics, so she takes that as her cue to leave, ordering another mocktail before slipping away towards the dance floor.

She is fully prepared to turn her brain off to enjoy some semblance of normalcy before she’s thrown back in to the confusing pit that is her current status with the former DEA agent.

Attempting to convince herself that she’s enjoying the moment, she sways to the lively rhythm of the music, lost in her own solitary dance. A few partygoers approach her asking to join her which she declines; peeved by all the unwanted attention she’s getting.

This isn’t even her party. She holds no merit here.

Javier only catches glimpses of her from his peripheral, engrossed in a conversation with a man who remembers him from his sheriff days in Laredo, before he left for Colombia. The discourse drones on, punctuated by forced laughter and idle pleasantries. Each word falls flat, devoid of substance, yet Javier remains steadfast. Anything to keep him and his mind away from her.

Suddenly, the screeching sound of microphone feedback reverberates off the opulent walls of the ballroom-style space and she winces at noise.

“Excuse me, sorry–– I’m not very good with these things.” The man of the hour apologizes, his voice crackling through the speakers. She inwardly curses, anticipating what’s to come next. Setting her now-empty glass down on one of the nearby tables, she smooths her hands along the velvety fabric of her dress, ironing out any wrinkles, and hastily fixes her hair as best as she can without a mirror.

With a deep breath, she pushes down her nerves, summoning a smile to face the adversity when he introduces her. She steps onto the stage, the room erupting into scattered applause as she approaches the microphone.

♫

Midway through the song, to her surprise, Jonah joins her on stage, transforming the solo performance into an unexpected duet. Despite her inner discomfort, Paloma maintains a composed expression and tries to conceal any hint of surprise in her body language as he draws nearer.

Her unease heightens when he pulls her close against him, the heat of his body against hers as they sway to the rhythm of the music during the instrumental interlude of the country song. She reluctantly complies, her compliance more a result of avoidance of potential consequences than genuine willingness to dance with him.

The sight of his possessive grip on her waist, pulling her into an unwelcome dance, ignites a surge of vexation within Javier. He feels the tension in his muscles coil tighter with each step they take, their bodies moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. It’s unbearable to watch, the image of Paloma in Jonah’s arms twisting like a knife in his gut.

Without a word, Javier makes his escape, his strides purposeful as he navigates through the crowded room. He mutters a vague excuse to Romeo, the urgency in his voice betraying his need to flee from the suffocating scene unfolding before him.

Finally stepping out into the cooler night air, Javier takes a deep breath to soothe his frazzled nerves. He makes his way towards a gazebo that’s right by the large pond, putting as much distance as he can between himself and the party inside.

Leaning against the railing of the structure, he retrieves his trusty pack of cigarettes from his pocket, hands trembling slightly as he lights one. Each drag offers a fleeting moment of respite from the turmoil brewing inside him.

Inside, the song ends and she wastes no time in descending the stage, a sense of urgency propelling her movements. She refuses to linger, her mind consumed with the dread of another unwanted encounter with the mayor. Surveying the crowded room, she searches in vain for her father or Javier, but they’re nowhere to be found amidst the sea of faces.

Determined to escape the party atmosphere, Paloma makes a beeline for the exit, craving the solace of the summer night air. Stepping out onto the back porch, she inhales deeply, the breeze offering a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat of the event.

The night is alive with subtle sounds—toads croaking in the distance, the distant murmur of conversation—but it’s the solitary figure in the distance that captures her attention. With a sense of inevitability, Paloma finds herself drawn towards the silhouette, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she descends the steps leading to the gazebo.

When she approaches, Javier remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the tranquil expanse of water before him. The rhythmic puff of his cigarette punctuates the silence, a tangible barrier between them. Despite the tension hanging in the air, Paloma presses forward, her resolve unyielding as she closes the distance between them.

“We need to talk.” 

He stands like a statue, the weight of her words are heavy, yet he remains resolute in his silence, hoping that she’ll simply give up and leave him be. But Paloma is nothing if not persistent, her frustration bubbling over as she confronts him.

“Fuck, Javier will you at least look at me?! Acknowledge that I’m standin’ here tryin’ to speak with you?!” Her voice crackles with pent-up emotion, her southern accent thick as each word is laden with an intensity that he can’t ignore.

Reluctantly, he turns his head slightly, his gaze skimming over her figure with resignation. It’s a small concession, but it’s enough to stoke the fire of her frustration to new heights.

“I dunno why you’ve decided to be such a jerk to me all of the sudden,” she continues, her tone laced with a raw edge of hurt and confusion. “You’re tellin’ me that I’m bein’ childish a-and that I need to move on from the kiss but we both know it’s so much bigger than that. We’ve been dancin’ around it since the moment we met and I’m tired of pretendin’ like I don’t want you.” 

His eyes close briefly, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he retreats behind his stoic facade once more. His fingers find their way to the bridge of his nose, pinching tightly as he struggles to find the right words to respond. But before he can form a coherent thought, she presses on, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.

“I told myself I wouldn’t care if you didn’t feel the same way,” She admits, her voice growing softer now, tinged with a hint of desperation. “But that was before I got to know you. Before you somehow wriggled your way into my heart and overtook my mind entirely. We became friends, and I-I didn’t want to screw that up. But then we kissed, and in that moment, I knew you wanted me just as badly…” 

She draws closer, her hand reaching out tentatively to rest on his shoulder, the touch sending a jolt of tension through his body. It’s a silent plea, a manifestation of her vulnerability, and it’s all he can do to keep his composure still as her words wash over him like a hurricane.

“Every time I see you I don’t want to behave, Javi. I’m tired of being patient, so let’s pick up the pace and finally give in.” 

He flicks his finished cigarette out into the water, the ember trailing like a shooting star before disappearing into the dark abyss below.

Slowly, he turns to face her fully, the summer air crackling with tension as he takes in her determined stance. His hand shoots out, grabbing hold of the wrist that had just been resting on him, his dark eyes boring into hers in an act of intimidation.

But Paloma doesn’t back down, her gaze unwavering as she meets his stare head-on. Instead, she brings her free hand up to rest against his chest, the heat of her touch seeping through the fabric of his shirt as she steps closer, closing the gap between them until his dress shoes are toe-to-toe with her pointed heels.

He doesn’t make an effort to step away or decline her advances, his resolve crumbling in the face of her determination. Her words have jumbled him up completely, the sudden revelation of her feelings catching him off guard and leaving him reeling. The direct mention of what they’ve been indulging in for the past few months digs into his achilles’ heel—his tendency to fall in love in the damndest of times.

He stares down into her eyes, a storm of conflicting emotions raging wildly. The lust swirling in her gaze stirs something primal and raw within him. Any rational part of his brain seems to shut down in that moment, his thoughts consumed by the overwhelming desire to kiss her again, to lose himself in the exhilarating whirlwind of emotions that she evokes from him.

“It’s obviously insane, m’not a fucking idiot I understand the repercussions…. but we both know what we want, so why don’t we…” She whispers, tilting her head up until their lips brush against one another.

“Why don’t we fall in love?” 

It’s not clear who makes the first move, but their lips are interlocked in a passionate kiss—a fierce collision of desire and pent-up longing that surpasses the one they had previously shared. Paloma’s hand on his chest clenches the fabric of his shirt while Javier relinquishes his grip on her wrist, his own hands rising to cradle her jaw in his palms.

The taste of the lingering cigarette smoke mingles with the faint bitterness of alcohol on his breath, a heady combination that heightens her desire. She moans softly into his mouth, her tongue intertwining with his in a desperate attempt to savor every fleeting moment before it inevitably slips away.

Javier, consumed by the intoxicating sensation, slowly walks her back until her back is against the sturdy pillar of the gazebo, his movements now possessive and urgent. He deepens the kiss, molding his body against hers as if to merge their souls into one.

Her touch is addicting, a bittersweet symphony that resonates in the depths of his bones. Despite the warnings screaming in the recesses of his mind, urging him to stop and pull away, he finds himself unable to resist the magnetic pull she exerts over him.

Breaking the kiss, Javier’s lips trail down the side of her mouth, blazing a trail of heated kisses along her jawline before descending to her neck. His teeth graze her delicate skin, resisting the urge to leave a trail of marks in their wake as his tongue traces a path along her neck and up to her earlobe, where he bites down gently.

“Is this what you wanted, nena? For me to shower you in my fucking attention?” He husks, his voice thick with desire and a hint of frustration. His words swim between them, a question laced with layers of longing and palpable need, as he continues to lavish attention upon her neck, each kiss and caress fueling the flames of their mutual desire.

Paloma just whines, arching herself into him as her thighs rub together to relieve the tension of arousal that is assaulting her core.

“Yes, Javi, that’s all I want. I want you to talk to me, to touch me, to make me feel good.” 

Her hands are now against his broad shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit jacket as she feels the muscles beneath tense at her touch. A low, guttural groan escapes his lips in response to her words, a primal sound that sends shivers down her spine.

“I can make you feel good, hermosa. Better than any fucking culero (asshole) in this town.” He murmurs, his voice dripping with possessiveness. With deliberate intent, Javi begins to hike up her long dress, the fabric yielding easily to his touch until it’s gathered at the top of her thighs, exposing her black, lacey panties. His hands roam lower, trailing a path of electricity along her skin until they find purchase behind her thighs, gripping the soft skin firmly as he effortlessly lifts her into his arms.

She wraps her legs around his waist, anchoring herself to him as he hoists her up against the solid pillar of the gazebo. She feels his hardness pressing up against her clothed cunt and it has a sharp pang of pleasure sprouting at her core, igniting a fierce heat to course through her entirely. His touch is addicting, sending waves of ecstasy rippling through her body as she surrenders to the intrinsic urgency of their shared horniness.

The pure conviction in his tone only adds to the intensity of the moment. She wants nothing more than to be completely ruined by this man. She wants to be his, and his alone.

Javier grinds his hips up, the friction between them firing up every nerve ending. Her pussy throbs with need, aching for more of his touch. She can feel every inch of him pressing against her, his hard cock straining against his pants, begging to be released.

As their bodies move in perfect harmony, she wraps her fingers in his hair, tugging at it lightly. His lips move from her neck and crash against hers, a wild, passionate kiss that leaves them both panting for air. It grows more frenzied, their teeth clashing together in a desperate and selfish need for more. She moans into his mouth, the sound sending a jolt of electric arousal straight to his cock. He grinds harder against her, his hips moving in rhythm with hers.

She can feel her orgasm building, a fierce heat blossoming at her pussy. Her whimpers turn to animated moans as she writhes against him. The last time she dry humped someone to completion had been way back in high school and that had been an overall embarrassment so it’s never something she revisited.

Not until now, with Javier who is making her feel like she’s the only girl in the fucking world.

His fingers expertly cup her breast, teasing her hardened nipple through the fabric of her dress. She arches her back, pressing her chest into his hand, silently begging for more. He takes the hint, groping her and squeezing it gently, relishing in the way she shudders.

Her eyes close in ecstasy as he continues to knead her tit. His other hand trails along her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the heat between her legs. When he finally reaches her core, she gasps, her body trembling with need. He doesn’t touch her, instead he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of her thigh.

“If this is what you wanted so fucking bad then go ahead and take it, needy girl. Go on, make yourself cum by grinding that wet pussy all over me.” 

She mewls, throwing her head back as she feels her orgasm building. She’s such a sight to bear witness to, how her swollen lips part and his name slips from her tongue like a hymn, making his cock twitch.

Her wetness seeps through her flimsy thong, leaving a damp spot on the fabric of his dress pants. He can feel it seeping through the material and it drives him mad. He needs to be inside her, to feel her walls fluttering around his cock as they finally give in to each other…

But first, he wants to watch her unravel just like this.

“I’m close, Javi…” His lips hungrily devour the tender flesh of her neck again, making her eyes roll back as their hips continue to move at a sensual pace. The metallic zipper of his pants brushes against her sensitive clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She can’t help but cry out in sweet surrender, her voice louder than before.

His large hand clamps over her mouth, preventing her screams from echoing out.

“Don’t get us caught, chiquita. Wouldn’t want your daddy comin’ out here and findin’ you like this–– all cockdrunk and begging to be fucked.” 

His dirty and abrasive words are like fuel to the flames of her impending climax, sending her spiraling out of control. Her rhythm stutters, her body writhing uncontrollably as she bites down on the skin of his palm as the orgasm overtakes her entirely.

All that can be heard is their heavy, shared pants. His hand falls from her mouth as she falls limp in his arms, her body jolting every now and again with the aftershock of her intense orgasm. 

She peppers tender kisses along the bare expanse of his jaw, silently berating him for having his shirt buttoned up for once and the pesky tie restricting her from licking and biting against the tantalizing skin of his neck and collarbone.

“Need… need to feel you, Javi, please.” She whines against his ear, her hands trailing down from his broad shoulders, over his chest, then down to his belt buckle. She can still feel the swell of him pressed up against her sopping cunt and despite just coming hard; she’s craving to feel all of him.

This is the pivotal moment where he knows he should exercise restraint, where the noble path of virtue beckons him to rise above the consuming tide of desire. To explain to her that they can and never will be anything but an unattainable fantasy.

But he doesn’t, instead Javi lets her untuck his dress shirt from his pants and helps her with unbuckling his belt.

“We shouldn’t do this, Paloma…” Is all he can say in an attempt to keep it from happening but she shushes him, her hand slipping beneath his boxers as she wraps her manicured fingers around his girth and begins to pump him slowly.

“Mierda,” He curses in Spanish, his forehead falling gently against hers as his eyes flutter close at the overwhelming feeling of her softer, smaller hand jerking him off. Her thumb glides over the tip, spreading his excessive precum over the length of his cock.

“But we want to… oh you’re so big Javi. Gonna be feelin’ you for days…” She sounds like something out of a wet dream and he simply can’t hold back any longer.

He instructs her to grab his wallet from his suit pocket and to retrieve the condom he keeps in there, receiving a playful eye roll from her but she doesn’t push her luck–– she needs him badly and she’d go absolutely feral if he decided to deny them both the pleasure of fucking.

His strong hold on her keeps them secure against the pillar, she rips the small package with her teeth then pushes his pants down enough to release his erection, rolling the latex on easily.

There’s a moment where suspension hangs in the air, both of them staring into each other’s lust blown eyes.

“Don’t think about it too much, please. Just fuck me.” 

Her insistence is such a turn on, spurring him into reaching down to ball up the thin layer of her panties before he yanks them off, the sound of the fabric tearing apart causing her to gasp. Stuffing the ruined material into his back pocket, he readjusts his hips so that the thick head of his cock presses up against her exposed and puffy folds.

“Such an impatient little thing, hermosa. I shouldn’t even give you what you want. Should just walk away and leave you here a desperate and wet mess.” 

Gripping onto the base of his cock with his free hand, Javier nudges it between her slit and teases her, the head repeatedly brushing against the pearl of her clit.

Her breath hitches, rolling her hips to entice him into entering her, “Please, Javi, I’ll do whatever you want just plea–– oh f-fuck!” 

He sinks into her pussy, leaning forward to bite down on her shoulder to keep his own sounds of pleasure at bay as he feels the way her fleshy walls contract around his cock, stretching her with how thick he is.

Her fingers return to intertwine themselves in his hair as he begins to set a delicious pace, fucking into her with a passion that’s making her see stars. The feeling of his teeth digging into her skin is an added stimulant to the already immense pleasure.

“Damn it you’re so tight. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, pretty girl. You satisfied now that I’m giving you what you want, huh?” He grunts out, nipping at her jawline as all she does is keen and moan, too overwhelmed with how good he’s making her feel. “Spoiled little thing, gonna fuck that right out of this tight little body. So you can learn, fuck, learn how not to be such a fucking pain in my ass.” 

She’s too wrapped up in the feeling of him brushing up against her cervix to fully process what he is saying against her skin. Their lips slant over each other as they kiss messily, the way he fucks her making her brain melt.

There’s no thoughts up there, just the feeling of him as he continues to break her open with his delicious cock.

His hands fall down to her waist, holding on tightly as he goes from languid thrusts to a quicker, more brutal pace as they chase their orgasms.

She’s glad that they’re far away enough to where no one can interrupt this moment, though the idea of there being an onlooker does entice her more than she’d ever admit. 

Her legs tighten around his waist, the pointed heel of her shoes digging into his backside as she feels a knot forming at the pit of her stomach, indicating that she isn’t far from coming undone.

“C’mon nena, be a good girl and let go,” His thumb finds itself being pressed against her soft lips and immediately she opens her mouth, licking around then sucking the digit and maintaining eye contact through it all. It has Javier grunting out a few expletives before letting his saliva coated thumb drop between them, rubbing tight circles against her clit.

This has her clenching around him and crying out, which causes a smirk to tug at his lips as he puts more pressure onto her clit.” Tan bonita así, toda lista para mi. (So pretty like this, all ready for me)” 

She tugs harshly at his hair at the sound of his Spanish, her arousal topples over and her second orgasm hits her like toppling bricks. She squeezes his cock tightly inside her, her legs an iron grip on his waist as she bites down harshly on her bottom lip, almost drawing blood, to keep her intense whimpers and moans from spilling out and drawing attention to them.

Satisfied that he’s made her unravel on him, Javier fucks her through her orgasm relentlessly until he’s spilling into the condom, burying his face in her neck, right where he can feel her pulse, and grazing the skin with his teeth. He wants to leave a mark, for her to walk around with evidence of him on her body but that’d be a wrong move atop of all the other wrong moves he’s made tonight.

Paloma breathes heavily, mind hazy as she tries to recollect herself from the throes of passion bestowed upon her by Javier Peña. They stay there, embraced in one another before he pulls out of her with a grunt and she whines at the loss of him.

Her legs unwrap from his waist as he tentatively sets her down, discarding of the condom into the water as he tucks himself back into his pants and she pulls her dress down, not even bothered by the fact that he ripped her underwear right off of her.

“That was a mistake.” 

His statement cuts through the night air and she’s already struggling to catch her footing on wobbly legs, the effect of being fucked hard and good.

“Javi––” 

“No, Paloma, I’m fucking serious.” He asserts, his voice taking on a sharp edge, landing like a heavy blow on her already rattled nerves.

“All that sentimental bullshit you were saying before… it means nothing to me. You’re just a distraction–– a pretty face that’s been keeping me from doing my damn job. Now, there’s another life lost, and instead of finding answers, I’m too busy babysitting you.” 

“Don’t you dare pin your incompetence on me, Javier,” She shoots back, her tone tinged with anger and frustration,” I’ve seen my father struggle with this bullshit for months now–– it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. S’not my fault you’re not as clever as everyone thinks you are. All the praise you get for being such a fuckin’ hero and yet… look at you. Unable to meet the expectations.” 

She adjusts the thin straps of her dress back up her shoulder, wincing slightly as she brushes against the bite mark he accidentally left against her skin, knowing that she’s going to feel that atop of the soreness between her legs after this.

She braces herself for the inevitable discomfort that will follow, both physically and emotionally.

Javier’s jaw tightens, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he fights to maintain his composure. He knows better than to let her words get to him the way that they are.

This is exactly what they need, some intense fight to fully shatter the illusion of their involvement.

“Look at you, Paloma,” He sneers, his words dripping with contempt as he levels a scornful gaze at her. “Throwing yourself at me every chance you get like a whore. I used to pay for shit like this, but you? Oh, I didn’t spare a fucking dime. Giving it all up for free.” 

Her jaw drops, a surge of anger and indignation flooding her senses as his words cut through her like a knife. She raises her hand instinctively, intent on delivering a stinging rebuke in the form of a slap across his jaw. But before she can make contact, his grip tightens around her wrist, arresting her movement with an iron grip.

“Don’t be stupid, querida,” He mocks her, his voice laced with disdain as he delivers each word like a venomous dagger. “Now that I fucked you one good time: Leave. Me. Alone. How ’bout you go back inside and fraternize with the mayor. I’m sure he’s eager to give you all the male validation you’re clearly chasing after.” He tilts his head, glaring at her in contempt. “Better yet, run off to your junkie, criminal boyfriend; won’t be long before he knocks you up and you’re stuck living in a run down trailer park in this shitty fucking town.” 

Paloma’s heart shatters at his callous words, tears welling up in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks unchecked. She gazes up at Javier, but the man before her is no longer the sweet, charming figure she thought she knew. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now glint with coldness and malice, rendering him unrecognizable to her.

“Fuck you,” She spits, wrenching her hand free from his grip with a mixture of anger and hurt flashing in her eyes. Despite the tears welling up, she summons every ounce of defiance to shoot him a disdainful glare. “You’re a piece of shit, Javier Peña.” 

With those final words, ones he’s heard a plethora of times before, she whirls around, her footsteps echoing loudly on the wooden stairs as she races to the nearest bathroom.

Ignoring the throbbing ache between her legs, she finds solace in the confines of the lavish restroom, allowing herself to unleash the torrent of tears pent up inside. Feeling foolish and utterly used, she wonders how she could have ever fallen for a man like him.

Meanwhile, Javier is left grappling with the sight of her heartbreak now etched into his memory. Pushing aside his own conflicted emotions, he knows he can’t afford to let their tangled affair distract him any longer.

This is what you both needed. He reminds himself, looking out into the water as the silver moonlight reflects off of the surface. Harsh, but she’ll get over it.

With a resigned sigh, he retrieves another cigarette, the familiar ritual offering a fleeting sense of calm amidst the storm raging about.

[analexthatexists]

Jotting down my UTMV AU Ideas because of this guy

@idkhowtoread-ink you’ve inspired me now pay the price

No clue if ANY OF THESE can make canon sense but does it look like I care? Lemme have my fun.

AMV!Ink / AMV-VERSE (AMVV?)

The idea is simple. At least, I hoped it was. Rather than the artistic AUs, fanart, and creative writing side of the community, there was an Ink made for the musical side of the community, like the AMVs, themes, vocaloid covers and what not. I’m sure Ink probably looks over ALL of that junk already but let’s be honest when was the last time you saw him doing it? Yeah I didn’t think so. Ink could be an unfinished animation meme or a vocaloid AMV like that Spring Storm one and eventually find a way to leave it and probably protect YouTube or inspire creators or something, gaining access to all the other things and people on the platform. Error could even tag along as some sort of flawed copyrighting system using Error’s body as a means of moving around rather that being confined to STRINGS of text. (Don’t ask me how he does that I don’t know) He would recognize everything as copyrighted or plagiarism or something and try to destroy it without seeing the creativity and originality in the work. Their designs could be based off the AMVs or covers they came from with Ink being from whatever the hell and Error being from…idk, probably ECHO. I wonder if Inks outfit would depend on which videos and content he delves into almost like Hatsune Miku or other Vocaloid.

LONLEY GUARDIAN

This one is just sad. A Dreamtale AU where, during a fight between Dream and Nightmare, Dream reaches out and gets a hold of Nightmare’s SOUL trying to uncorrupt it, sacrificing himself to be able to restore a part of the original Nightmare. Dream dies and the world is cast into absolute darkness, leaving Nightmare stranded in the cold world with nobody to seek comfort from, nobody to help him. Not anymore.

INK <——> NIGHTMARE SWAP AU

Random idea that I came up with after jokingly writing Nightmare getting drunk off of Ink’s vials. Would that actually work?What if the two got into such a dangerous fight that eventually Ink tried to teleport away but Nightmare lunges at him and two get their “goop” mixed together because Ink teleports via INK. And nightmare is made of a INK like substance. If Ink doesn’t instantly die from lead poisoning or something this mixing could mess up his brain while Nightmare just kind of shrugs it off and steals Ink’s vials. Ink would no longer need the vials and rely off Nightmare’s “blood” to feel real negative emotions, slowly craving the stuff more and more than his vials while Nightmare probably gets drunk off the vials or something and takes on Ink’s role. Error and Dream may have to team up to get them back to normal or at least try to.

SHATTERED DREAM BUT SCARIER

So looking at this post made me consider something. What if Dream tried to eat the apples and yknow do what he did in the original AU, but due to the overwhelming and clashing natures of his apple and the dark ones he just…MELTED AND DIED IN FRONT OF NIGHTMARE. He doesn’t even corrupt or anything (well sort of) he just DISSOLVES ALIVE RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. Imagine trying to prove a point and failing THIS BADLY. Anyways, rather than Nightmare being haunted by his now corrupted brother, he’s just ACTUALLY HAUNTED. I was thinking this could be like Phantom Papyrus and Dust Sans and that this new “Dream” (going by Shattered) is just a horrible manifestation of this traumatic event. It’s design and personality wouldn’t be the EXACT same especially not the design (would look so much scarier) but it constantly make Nighty feel like garbage and all that. People like Swap and Ink would have to find and help Nightmare get past this trauma, where only then can he and his “brother” finally move on.

EVIL INK AU BECAUSE YES

I know, we literally JUST went over an Evil Ink AU but hear me out. Wouldn’t he WANT a soul again? Idk if it’s possible for him to reabsorb and claim a soul, he probably can’t, but what if he COULD? He’d probably go nuts over Error’s or something. Just ANYTHING to fill that void other than his vials.

wow most of these ideas involve characters getting traumatized or turning evil. I ain’t sorry though!

[originalqueenhottub]

Preface

Pegasus J Crawford (Or Known as Maximillion Pegasus to other audiences) is the legendary architect to the world of Duel Monsters as many who played the game could tell you. The charismatic, witty, poised man who's very presence poured a sense of mystery; created a game based on a more ancient and dangerous version. But the reason why? Even more elusive to most experts of the game. Pegasus had plans for Duel Monsters. Plans that few were not privy to know. A singular desire, a forlorn wish but one with catastrophic consequences if answered. 

Enter, Anath. An intuitive character who is about to unknowingly weave fate into another direction for both Pegasus and herself. Her arrival to his castle just days before the events of Duelist Kingdom have started the unraveling of the threads of fate. Hindered by her own ancient curse, however, will these two be able to break the chains that threaten to not only drag them to their pre-destined doom? Will they conquer an ancient darkness that stretches from the eons of time?

(This story is definitely going to be fun. I have had a good bit of it down for a while, I am just in those stages of Editing that I dread... I am spontaneous on my story writing timelines and write down ideas quickly from different parts of the story 😅 And it can make it difficult to string it together. But if you want a good story, I can guarantee this one will be decent!

It's funny, originally I was writing it as a one-shot or a "Joke" but it actually turned into a project for me! Complete with art, smut, and my own alternate reason why Pegasus is alive in the anime, but dead in the Manga. It kinda was inspired by the Game- Duel Links, and the Bonds Beyond Time movie.

The exploration of alternative universes is a endeavor I try to navigate carefully, as I am not a fan if it is done poorly. Just know when reading my story, I did copious amounts of research (re-reading the manga, watching it in original Japanese format, finding old articles from my Shonen jump magazines and notes from Takahashi himself.) and found things that unexpectedly fit not only my plot, but Yu-Gi-Oh's vast and beautiful storyline.

And while accumulating knowledge, I seemed to have stumbled upon others who seemed to want the same thing I did. An emotional, deeper side of Yu-Gi-Oh that Kazuki Takahashi DID want to give us, but due to editing and people in his editorial circle caused him to have to cut a lot of back stories. This was to focus more on the card games (Boo!) But in a way, I get it. That's what made this franchise so popular.

This story I hope will deliver substance that I feel we all wanted from a Yu-Gi-Oh story. Yeah, it may be a fanfiction, but like other works of art and stories out there, this came from the heart of someone who loved the story so much as a child, that I wanted to keep it alive like it has me.

Takahashi, may you rest in peace. I want you to know not only did you pass away a hero to others, you saved me and countless others by showing us- "The heart of the cards" )

[mad-c1oud]

FROM THE FOG I RISE WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED WITH AN IMMI CHAPTER!!!

IT'S LOVELY! It's got yummy Etoiles' emotions and feeeeelings!

Your mc mechanics interpretations are top tier fr, bc holy shit waystones using emotions? subconscious feeling? intent? will? instict? of the person is SO COOL

AAAAAAAA Teleportation magic being this old abstract force of will with its sole focus on connecting people AAAAA its magical flow being natural to this world

It makes me think of all the waystones being connected through a network, or smth like mycelium

Funny question tho, how would teleporting work for some of the ADHD folk who can't for the life of them focus on a singular destination?

And how do u think the magic would deal with a person that desperately wanted to teleport somewhere familiar, but that waystone and the place was destroyed beyond repair?

Anyway, tysm for the chapter, I wish u well for any irl stuff and writing endeavors!

Starcicle prevails 😌 🌟🦠(<- lol it kinda looks like slime if you believe)

YEHAHHHHH WERE BACK. I missed the goobers terribly

I’m so happy everyone has been loving the waystone thoughts. It’s something mentioned in most fics where they teleport, but I’ve never felt like elaborating becuase at those points, the characters already knew how it worked. So this moment of introspection from someone as analytical as Étoiles has been real fun.

I’m gonna blab about it more below the cut so click for insane word rambles if you want<3

So.

The inspiration came from the fact that if given the choice of what superpower I would choose, I would go with teleportation. Always been that way. I would always think about how it would work too becuase I was obsessed with MHA for a few years and they’re take on powers and quirks was just too much fun. So I thought about how teleporting would work, if it was sight based or maybe you had to have physically been somewhere to teleport there, etc. i liked the idea of needing to be familiar with a place before you could teleport there, or having some connection to it. Intent, knowing.

When I saw the waystones in the qsmp, and actually used them myself in minecraft, I just started automatically pushing those general teleportation thoughts onto the mechanic. They naturally generate in the world, these old pillars with ancient scribble on them (lke the enchantment tables). In order to use a waystone, you have to “activate” or click it. I just… went with it.

I didn’t realize I was using the idea until a few chapters into twaho and starting fingers. When. I did, I developed it a little more but still, I like to be vague about it. I like magic you don’t fully understand, especially when it’s ancient. Also I feel like over explaining it ruins it in some cases and while Étoiles is the po to over explain mechanics, I like shoving him at something he can’t fully pick apart.

Gah sorry you asked for none of that but I like talk sorry. On to your queries…

Warping for those with ADHD or just overall scattered thoughts— tricky. Since I like to think of these waystones as almost alive (at least the magic), they’re interrupting the “information” from the person touching the stone. Like Étoiles on the beach of Eggxile right after upsetting Charlie, trying to warp to his base but all he could think about was his mistake. All he could think about was Charlie. So the waystone kept him there, where he clearly needed to be, until Étoiles could focus and put more intent into his warp. It’s real easy for people to end up at the wrong waystone simply because they’re distracted or panicking, their minds a jumbled mess. A funny irl example would be anyone wanting to go to one waystone but out of habit they clicked the wrong one, muscle memory. Silly stuff like that. I could talk about it all day tbh

And for the other q… ouch. While I don’t want to over explain the warpstones, but I will say this: the magic is contained in the stone pillars or the warpstones, so when they are moved, it moves the magic. However— the longer a pillar is left somewhere, the more attachment the magic has to an area. Magically and literally. Same for waystones that are frequently used by several people.

Think of the warpstone hub near spawn. That area is like… it’s almost like a beating heart, veins branching out to other communal places like the Favela or France or Phil’s. The traffic and the thought going into those waystones… the magic loves to share the world and loves when people share with it.

I haven’t put too much thought into what would happen if someone tries warping somewhere a stone has been destroyed or removed, but I think it boils down to a few things: how strong those feelings/memories are, and how desperate someone is to return. It’s going to vary from person to person depending on their own connections. I think it will also not be pleasant. You are trying to use magic that is no longer contained, that might not even be present in the location you are going, relying on a signal warpstone or waystone to get you there. Think like a cut wire: it’s contiained until the metal becomes exposed, with no grounding after. Chances of you actually getting there are slim, but maybe the right spark with find it’s way. I don’t know, my metaphors are awful. The idea ties into the share stones. Someone going to a warpstone without having ever been there is impossible unless they have someone else on the other end, connecting those points. Providing the memories and feelings and thoughts for others

Spawn point and beds and shit are al whole other thing that I have yet to chew on, but I think they are separate for the most part.

Okay I’ll stop talking i could go on for everrrrrr about this stuff and what it means for different hybrids, different situations, restrictions, hiccups… I love over explaining minecraft mechanics. It’s so much fun.

Come yell at me with questions or ideas on anything!! Now you guys can go back and reread some of my fics with a little extra context haha.

[rpstartersinc]

* 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐔𝐍.

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

“ don't be merciful, don't come back like snow white and the huntsman. ”

“ i've never been to a funeral, i wouldn't have come to this one if i'd known there'd be a dead person. ”

“ i know how emotional occasions like this can be. ”

“ i think we'll manage. ”

“ as soon as he clicks his fingers, you come running. ”

“ is this actually your car? ”

“ i don't make the rules. ”

“ what do you remember? ”

“ i really thought she was my soulmate. ”

“ he might've tied her up and now he's using us as bait. ”

“ we're hansel and fucking gretel. ”

“ i told you not to come in here. ”

“ i've been lied to all my life. ”

“ a jellyfish has no heart and no brain, yet it lives. what could be scarier than that? ”

“ i told you, you can't smoke it straight from the plants! ”

“ women seem to keep drifting away from me. ”

“ you look very cold. ”

“ driving slow in this kind of car is more suspicious. ”

“ who is sitting next to me right now? who, fucking... pablo escobar? ”

“ if you're going to do something ridiculous, i don't want to miss it. ”

“ you saw the blood on the laptop, right? ”

“ why do i have to wait in the car? ”

“ two types of people wear sunglasses in the dark, blind musicians, and cunts. ”

“ not who you were expecting? ”

“ if that sequence of events does not transpire exactly as described, i will murder you, slowly. ”

“ this is your fault. ”

“ if we stay here, we're fucked. ”

“ i can't leave him there, looks like... i killed him. ”

“ don't be sorry, just be helpful. ”

“ why did they do that? why did they shoot him? ”

“ i don't let personal matters get in the way of business. ”

“ did i say to stop? ”

“ can you just... can you stop disappointing me? ”

“ don't shoot anyone until i tell you to. ”

“ i just like it. what's that called? when you can't stop picturing bullets ripping through human flesh. ”

“ i don't wanna kill anyone. ”

“ none of that's secret, it's private. ”

“ what tracker? there's no tracker, this isn't james bond! ”

“ i'm keeping us alive. ”

“ you are the reason that we are running for our lives right now! ”

“ excuse me for taking an opportunity when i saw one. ”

“ no one's ever given me shit. ”

“ we're supposed to be keeping a low profile! ”

“ i used to have a terrible appetite for destruction on me. ”

“ do you think we're safe? ”

“ a great artist knows when to stop. ”

“ i should have known it was you. ”

“ you love a grand entrance. ”

“ your body count shouldn't define you. ”

“ can we just stop talking about death? ”

“ how is love going to make you strong? ”

“ i just fucking killed someone! ”

“ i hear nothing but empty words from everyone. please, i need you to say something real. ”

“ people have died. it just needs to stop, doesn't it? ”

“ breaking and entering is a crime, you know. ”

“ i know you're withholding information. ”

“ i bet they're fucking terrified of you. ”

“ there's no one who will help you out there. ”

“ people respect me, they listen to me. ”

“ you're ruthless, i like that. ”

“ what do you do on a day like this? ”

“ i don't think i can handle prison. ”

“ you shot my fucking phone! ”

“ you don't shoot friends! ”

“ you better not have broken my nose. ”

“ will you shut the fuck up! i'm trying to hear a bird. ”

“ i have a code. ”

“ bit of fun, never mind the consequences to yourself or anybody else. ”

“ you're gonna lecture me? you murder people for money! ”

“ i put up barriers between myself and the world, and there is, there's an isolation. ”

“ for the first time in my life, i'm making an actual choice. ”

“ i am not your friend. ”

“ could i come with you? ”

“ that wasn't part of the arrangement. ”

“ you have no idea what i'm capable of. ”

“ you shouldn't mess with friendship. ”

“ everywhere the awe-inspiring landscapes, i like to be the one inspiring awe. ”

“ you can be driven to do extraordinary things, things you didn't even know were inside of you, that no one understands.. ”

“ some of the things i've done... it's like i'm infected. ”

“ you can act tough all you want... ”

“ there's no reason for violence. ”

“ you're just making it worse. ”

“ i'm sorry i disappointed you, but you disappointed me too. ”

“ i'm sick of pretending i'm something i'm not. ”

“ get away from me, get back! ”

“ you tried to fucking kill me! ”

“ you said you wanted us to get to know each other. ”

“ it's me, i'm getting you out of here. ”

“ that's my fucking sore leg! ”

“ because i said to, now do it and shut up. ”

“ people like me don't get to be in that world. ”

“ my body, my do-whatever-the-fuck-i-feel-like. ”

“ friends for life? fucking bollocks. ”

“ you think i would join you? ”

“ do not sit there waiting for him to find you! ”

“ people get hallucinations, there's like treatment for that shit. ”

“ people see death, they all have the same thought. don't be next, be the survivor. ”

“ you don't just get something because you say you want it. ”

“ be someone people want to be around. ”

“ why is there dead bodies everywhere? ”

“ you came back. ”

“ we look out for each other, that's the rule. ”

[raainberry]

Hiii i just read that you wanted some song+idol ideas. So how about a jeongyeon and fem reader short fic with Twice's Ice Cream?

Waves

« Emotions come in waves, and the purpose of that wave is to try to create an urge to act on the emotion. »

Jeongyeon x gn!reader

Fluff (?)

synopsis - teaching your passion is all fun and games until you fall for one of your customers

word count - 1.1K

T/W - Food (mentions)

A/N - Thanks for the request! It was a nice combo, I actually enjoyed writing this one. I only made it into a gn reader bc it’s the way I write, I hope it’s alright with you. Hopefully you find the hidden references to the song ;) Also got inspired by surfer Jeongyeon, never forgot her and I’ll make sure no one does. Hope you like surfing or else this is gonna be awkward.

A whole afternoon of surfing would sound like more than enough to anyone remotely enjoying the sport, right?

For you it wasn’t even close. You would stand on your board the whole day if you could.

You liked to think your experience would allow it. Not the sea, though. Even the water needed a break from the tumbling.

You usually only stopped when it did, and sat down on your board to cool off as you floated around, appreciating the environment you were so familiar with.

Unlike the majority of Earth’s population, you’ve never been far from the sea. Your parents owned and ran a small but successful surfing school in Busan. As instructors, they happened to be a bit tougher on you, but you eventually became their proudest graduate. Your talent even allowed them to promote you to the same title as theirs.

That was about five years ago. Five years prior to your first encounter with her.

Your favorite ‘student’.

When you learned her name, the last thing you expected was for your brain to get stuck stuck on loop over it.

Jeongyeon.

You smiled to yourself at the mere thought of her.

She was all you seemed to think about. Her name alone managed to warm your chest enough, to the point you’d feel your heart melt.

She had come in for a few lessons a few months ago, always with a friend or two. However that didn’t keep you from getting closer to the woman, and it wasn’t long until you stopped using lessons as excuses to see her.

You probably would have continued for a while if it weren’t for her. She was the one to ask you out first.

“I think I’m ready to take on a few waves on my own, what do you think?”

The water was gentle that morning, carrying you the same way it did any other day. You took in your surroundings as usual, letting your eyes get pulled wherever they pleased. The scenery was particularly memorable, as if it knew about what was to come. Wanting to remember it, you pictured it all in your mind, trying to retain every little detail.

“Like… without me around?” You asked hesitantly.

She was more than ready. However, a very selfish part of you couldn’t help but feel hurt by her thoughts.

You focused on the landscape surrounding you in order to keep your emotions in check.

The moon was slowly retreating to leave room for the sun. The light color was filling the sky as the day settled itself. The early morning clouds, and the sweet, gentle breeze that came with them. The smell of iodine, and salt in the air, coming from the water surrounding you. The endless blanket of sand covering the shore. The houses hidden behind the cliff and trees bordering that same shore, no doubt sheltering people still deep into their slumber. And of course… Jeongyeon smiling at you from her own board a couple feet away.

Your eyes stopped at that last detail, just like your heart almost did before getting ahold of itself to keep you alive.

You’d only known her for a week by then.

How or why it had happened, you didn’t know, but you had grown to care about her in ways no professional should.

Every glance at her was a painful reminder of that.

Sure there were no actual rules against dating one of your customers. This wasn’t school and you quite literally ran the place, but still…

You had dealt with a fare share of attractive customers. Your own convictions and passion for the sport made it easy for you not to cross the line.

But with her it seemed to do the exact opposite.

With every lesson that passed, the air seemed to constrain with every glance you shared, making it hard for you to breathe in between the laughs she caused.

“That’s kind of what I paid for, no?” She joked once more, pulling you out of your thoughts with yet another laugh.

“Right.”

“Why, are you gonna miss me?” She teased.

Another thing of hers you liked. She hadn’t stopped since she met you. It felt as if it were her favorite hobby. Teasing you.

Oh, how you wished it was.

“Kind of.” You admitted, surprising even yourself.

She could tell that, you knew by the small chuckle that left her lips shortly after.

“What do you say we go for ice cream? As a thank you, it’ll be my treat.”

You smiled despite how much you disliked the hidden goodbye her words let transpire. You couldn’t help it when she was doing the same in front of you.

“Show me you’re actually ready. Then I’ll think about it.”

Needless to say you went out for ice cream with her that day.

And the week after.

And the next.

A four hour long train to meet her every time.

For months.

Until you couldn’t anymore.

“I’m leaving next week.”

Your eyes lifted from the banana split between the two of you.

“For tour.” She added. “We won’t be able to meet like this for a while.”

You knew that. You had known for weeks. She hadn’t kept it a secret.

Yet it hit you just as hard as if she had.

“I’m gonna miss this.” She said softly, playing around with her spoon and a bit of vanilla ice cream before bringing it to her mouth.

You bit your bottom lip. Out of worry or at the sight, who knows… A smile rested on her lips. It took you by surprise, but the reason not so much. You always had a great time on these weekly ice cream dates after all.

“I’m gonna miss this too.” You finally said, a sigh replacing the words you held back.

That was hours ago.

The night had settled after what felt like an unusally long day.

After you parted ways with her, after you left her embrace before who knew how long… The day simply felt painfully slow.

You had plenty to do, to occupy your mind with, yet the only thing on it were the words muttered by the singer at lunch.

“We won’t be able to meet like this for a while.”

You sighed at the memory. It seemed so far away now.

Was it dramatic to feel this way?

You had spent so much time with her until now.

Was it selfish to wish for more?

You sighed once more.

One thing was sure, you were going to wait for her. Whether you liked it or not, you’d be there when she’d come back.

But would she?

Was she going to miss you the way you would miss her?

The way she knew you were going to miss her?

It was obvious you were head over heels for her. She never took advantage of that, but she never acknowledged it either.

Sure, she hugged you back.

Sure, she held onto you too.

But it never felt as more than what it was.

Comfort.

Yet she would also look at you, and allow you to see parts of her she seemed to guard carefully from the rest of the world. It made you feel important. Like you mattered to her.

Was it wishful thinking or reality? A twisted mix of both?

There was only one way to know and all it took was a train ride to the capital city.

Four hours was a long time. It allowed you to think and put a plan in place.

“Close your eyes.”

That’s what you would tell her. Right before draining the mess she’d made, melting that heart of yours as easily as the sun would all those ice creams you shared.

“It’s the only way I’ll be able to tell you why I love you.”

[dropintomanga]

Do You Revisit to Heal?

When it comes to a new year, everyone's talking about doing new things and resolutions to become better. But what if revisiting stuff can actually help you a lot more?

I was inspired by two posts I read - Japan Powered's The Value of (Re)watching and (Re)reading and Use Your Damn Skills' "Comfort TV and trauma recovery". The first post talked about how it's okay to look at past stories you were interested in back in the day. There may be times where you might cringe, but you might get a better appreciation of what that story meant for you at the time. The second post focused on how adults who grew up feeling neglected as kids turned to and rewatch comfort TV a lot to escape whatever trauma they were going through.

On the subject of rereading and rewatching, I've been thinking a lot about revisiting Gintama and Fullmetal Alchemist. Both are considered two of the top most popular manga ever by Japanese audiences. Both series have amazing characters and stories that resonate with readers. I remember a great deal of lines and moments from FMA and Gintama. Even back then, I re-watched and/or re-read those two series to a great degree. Nothing else mattered.

Compared to now, where there's so much manga released, I sometimes wonder because of the amount of manga out there, nothing seems to stick in my head as much. Although I love current hits like Chainsaw Man, there's nothing about them (yet) that brings out a sense of emotional catharsis that I feel compared to when I read something older like Fullmetal Alchemist. Or should I say, most manga haven't hit me as hard. I nowadays get that from video games.

But when I think about it, I'm a different person back then compared to now. While I think it's a good thing, you can lose something during the process.

I want to now address "comfort TV and trauma recovery." I've used anime and manga to "escape" depression. I've also used them as outlets to process feelings that I never told people at the time. I think the beauty of revisiting your favorite series is that everything is predictable when out in the real world, not everything sadly goes your way.

I sometimes wonder if I'm doing this with playing K-Pop songs over and over again. They take me back to a place where I know for certain that I'll be feeling great. Those songs take me back to my younger years when I wanted to be a DJ and blast music at parties with no drama. People piss me off and while I'm able to resolve interpersonal situations at times, I just feel mentally fatigued and sometimes scared over how some people behave. What if my emotional wounds led me to get sucked into fandom in the first place?

There's a lot of value to revisit things you liked back then. Every work has lessons to learn. Every story reminds us of how human we are. We need other people to share stories in order to feel that we matter in the grand scale of things. You also might learn something new when you revisit a story due to your own changes in perspective.

I'm always looking back into my memories as a hardcore fan when I was a teen to young adult. It's been fun. I realized how grateful I am to be able to experience those joys even when they weren't accepted as they are now. Maybe I didn't have as many friends to share those interests with at the time, but I know being involved in fan interests helped slowly shape the way I wanted to view life and act around people.

I hope it's the same for you guys. No one should shame you for revisiting older works. What's important is they help you feel alive and make certain parts of life worth revisiting years down the road.