#hope this makes sense cause I wrote this while sleep deprived and posting with out proofreading

[hexiquin]

Ok, so I found out a way to watch the first episode of the anime (don’t ask questions) and this just makes me want to talk about the first chapter (and a little bit of chapters 2 & 3)

I hate to say it, but everyone talking about the pacing is right, it isn’t the best, and I think that the real answer ps for why lie with the manga. I’m not gonna say ‘it has to be a one to one from the manga’ but there were better ways to do this. Also I’m not gonna say that ‘this is how I would do it’, I just want to explain why I think the first chapter was so good (and by doing so, saying why it should have been the only chapter used for the first episode).

The opening with a hopeful Haru giving a recap of all the important info to understand that is great (Starting the chapter with haru already freaking out probably wouldn’t work in an anime so we’re just gonna ignore the pretty art). It’s very matter of fact and quick that it doesn’t feel like the exposition doesn’t drag. And the fact of ‘showing’ explicitly while also showing the first anti youkai powers keeps the pacing going quick. It also introduces us to several of the characters personalities (even more than what is obviously shown). Sano not wanting to get involved (and maybe even avoiding using his powers incorrectly), pathetic Haru, Tamao being a bit of a little punk,  and mujina being a character we make suffer I mean punk loser. Having this makes the walk up to the school feel like it takes time while also giving us needed info (aka exposition is quick, while current events feel important and take up the right amount of time).

Now Haru seeing the school is also great. We have an efficient shot of the school, Principal surprising him, the air is light. 

Also Haru abuse (a series stable)!

Now a great joke is Haru opening the door. (Honestly I didn’t mind the hyping up but-) And we just get a wide shot of the room, Quick shot where we focus on the speech bubbles and widen i view to see the rest of the class. THAN a blank stare with Haru, and the door sides shut quickly! Jokes are all about having only the important info and set up. It happens so quick (only necessary info) and has good set up (meeting the boys before school and Haru hyping himself up). Hell, only Sano notices Haru because of how quick it is. WHICH leads to a second half joke with how normal the students while Haru freaks out.

Than we get more Haru abuse and the second showing of the anti youkai powers. And we quickly push Haru back into the room to anxiously deal with no real reward.(Gonna skip any parts that aren’t interesting even tho the are still important to the pacing) 

(If you did acknowledge the pretty art opening, we can even add some of that meta jokes the series has and even make the op make more sense-)

Sano helps Haru out, with him getting pulled out feeling impactful (and it is when you think about chapter 54 omg) only for Haru’s clothes ripping. And we get Sano’s youkai explanation. Principal sets up a joke by giving some reward (and showing how shady he can be). Haru not showing anybody gives us a mystery the audience what’s solved making us want to watch more! (And having Mame watch it, especially with his life, makes further sets future events)

Haru takes attendance, takes notice of Sano’s profile, and gets ignored. Hajita is explained away (and actually feels like he has a reason to not show up and not feel like it was a useless line. Like just have Hajita show up with a bang and not Mame explaining anything until after he walks in-)

The mystery is brought back up, and some minor conflict that doesn’t feel like a big ‘mission’ that would take up more time. Mame shows off his powers (and how cute he is, the mascot of our hearts) whole also paying off him spying on the principal and haru. 

Haru also builds up towards Sano and Haru’s future in this chapter. Haru annoying Sano, Haru getting distracted so we know he is actually obsessed with uniforms (I know they wanted to down play the whole fetish I just wish they didn’t). Sano also tries to be helpful  with giving advice, giving a ride, and beating up Haru for Meme (my babyboy!) We also get pay off for this with Sano beating up Haru.

Haru also shows off his skill with running (especially when it involves his fetish). We get our third use of anti youkai powers (RULE OF THREE)! 

Haru, Sano, the teachers, and us finding out about Haru’s powers, and Haru wanting to keep it a secret give the rest of the series some intrigue. And having Sano agree again shows how deep down he really does care!

Also we get, arguably, 5 jokes that are in character and show off some of the famous duo’s personalities. 

And finally, we reach the make or break it jokes, so intertwined with the uniforms AND rapid that if you haven’t laughed/enjoyed the manga so far, you might start thinking of dropping it (don’t). 

This chapter is really tight! The jokes are quick, the plot only revolves around the literal premise of the series (sailor uniform loving scaredy cat pathetic man teaches at a school of generally normal acting youkai students), we get info about characters when it’s important, no overwhelming amount of introductions, we even have something to get us hooked outside of the slice of life comedy premise (an overarching idea about Haru’s powers being a secret only the staff and Sano know about!)

But because we have three different chapters mixed into one, some of the punchlines feel weird in the anime. NOT BAD, just some feel a bit off. Mame coming to get Beniko without the bonding moment, Haru wanting good luck and being kinda cool with youkai students so quickly, not dealing with Haru’s uniform deal and being played down (even tho it’s the reason he even get into ‘scary mode’), and the timeline of when everything was happening all feel a bit off 

(kinda felt equally too fast and too slow with what the chose to let breath, gloss over, and not include)

And this is literally a supernatural slice of life comedy, we have to make sure the jokes land/have another joke ready if the one before fails, and see a slice of their lives

I feel like it would be better be if the Beniko/Hajita plots weren’t in the first episode (I actually like those two plots being in the same episode, it would make a good first half and second half, since chapter 2 & 3 really flow well and when Haru goes on his rant we can build up more to the Hajita apology.) They seem like a good plot for a the second or third episode. (Ok sorry seems like I did explain what I would do for a bit there sorry)

Anyway…

Honestly, a lot of ‘episodic’ comedy manga get episodes mixed together so I’m not surprised, just wished they divided them differently.

So now let me talk about some positives and some of my other thoughts on the first episode

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(☆)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* It was better than what I thought I would be…but not a good as what I let myself hope it could. OBVIOUSLY this is just a first episode, so my thoughts can obviously change, but this is what I got right now.

I really like the music! The OP and ED were amazing!!! I love them sooooo much. The ED reminded a bit of Yuukei Yesterday from kagepro, and I love that song. It was very wholesome and calming, made me want to hear an english version so I could sing along. The OP was great, I loved the chaotic vibes. The ending was great with them being scolded. Very *chef’s kiss* 

Outside of that I was a bit disappointed. I DONT HATE IT, but I wish it would be better.

I’ll probably talk about it again after it all airs, so let’s all wait and see!

Also, here are some screenshots I love! ♡

the first chapter of yohaji is the best first chapter I have ever read of any manga. the way it perfectly introduces the whole premise of the manga (a pathetic scardycat starts teaching at a school that is filled to the brim with supernatural students and faculty) is obviously great but HOW IT SHOWS OFF ALL THE CHARACTERS!!!

the way that haru is first shown to be a very precious so full of promise and excitement for a new job yet also being so girlfailure (I just want to pick him up and shake him).

Sano his probably most important relationship in the whole manga (im literally planning on making a ramble/essay about that) shows how he has a kind heart but is also a total sadistic! My boy is trying so hard not to show his real self of being a sweet little demon child and I love him♡♡♡♡♡ the way he totally bodies haru destroys his not even truly established relationship with the rest of the class and than leaves with a 'I don't kink shame' is GOLD!

Love how when we finally see haru's special interest we sano and mame all get to experience the immediate dread of what it is only to reassured by haru (and the manga in the same volume) that it isn't anything sexual or related to the individual wearing it

I love how EVEN IN THE FIRST CHAPTER YOU CAN TELL THERE IS MORE TO ALL OF THIS. like who is the principal and his relationship with haru's family? Or what is with haru's powers? How is the wet paper towel of a man going to deal with these students in the future? AAAAAAAaaaaaa!!!

Love this manga omg

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Hey Jack,

I´m sorry but I need to scream at you for a second, this is the weirdest coincidence: I was thinking about Nikprice while I was cleaning my flat (as one does) and was trying to come up with a scenario were Nik would feel vulnerable and like he´s letting Price down and my "pharmacist brain" supplied me with: how about erectile dysfunction?! Like make him sleep deprived, stressed, underfuled (maybe he´s still struggling a bit around food even after he and Price had a their conversation in Florence) and just generally not in a good headspace and then issues ensue... and I thought about sending you an ask but then I got shy and thought this was too niche.

And not two hours later I just came across your answer to that ask about "Nikolai getting caught off-guard". And the way you wrote this is just so bloody good... like Nik struggling and then, rather than talk about it, he looks for a solution on his own. And all his fears around getting older and loosing his appeal, and more generally not being "useful" anymore, this is just so perfect!!! and the way you described John handling the situation, 10/10 so him and actually what Nik needs !!!! I do hope that Nik will actually visit Janie and get´s some sense talked into him...

sorry for this ridiculously long ask and for me rabling so much !!! Have a lovely weekend !!!!!

(I hope you got my answer to your lovely message from a few days ago, I was answering it while being very sleep deprived and was trying to figure out how to post it, when it suddenly just disappeared)

Omg, wow! That's so weird and so awesome. We same brained from two sides of the world.

I quite liked the ideas behind the Florence conversation and wanted to dig into those feelings some more. Nik is 47. He's gonna start experiencing all sorts of shit that happens as men age, and Price just isn't there yet. It's anxiety inducing.

Nik finally has what he's always yearned for and now his dick has decided to stop working? With the hottest man in the world in his bed? Where's the justice in that?

I imagined him discovering it towards the start of those months off, getting gradually more alarmed when it just... didn't happen, finding the Viagra, being unwell but getting an erection, so that's the "greater good" and he can absolutely style it out.

No, Nik... No.

I also, same as you, thought psychological with general "physically run down" causes. But I was also looking at the nervous system connection and wondered how much shrapnel that man probably has embedded in him in places...

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Coordinates to Home (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Coordinates to Home - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

In light of this post, I give you Joker with tattoos! Don't tempt me, cuz I’ll write it! I did not use this mini oneshot to stall writing the next chapter. I had to get this out of my head and onto digital paper before I lost it my marbles. Child I literally wrote this at my desk so I apologize if there’s anything errors. I hope you enjoy!

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse @jaysmentalspace @she-could-never @that--thing

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

You had to be seeing things because there was no way Joker, of all people, had a tattoo.

It didn’t make sense given that tattoos were so unique. They were used to identify people for crying out loud! Was he really that careless? You found it hard to believe that J would have one given his illegal (and wanted) status in the world.

Unless.. he acquired them before becoming The Joker. If so, you had to know what it was!

For a moment you thought it was just a trick of the light. Another blemish, for a monument to his hard life was etched onto his skin already. What was another mark to a man like Joker?

Old scars, deep battle wounds, and one gnarly area below his rib cage, ‘a bomb gone wrong’ he told you, made identifying the possible tattoo difficult. It just blended in with his silvery skin.

Additionally, you had to pretend that you weren’t intrigued less Joker would feel your gaze and thwart your attempts. He had come a long way to be confident with his body, more so around you.

In the beginning, he didn’t remove his clothes at all if you were nearby. Now Joker practically walked around nude. You definitely weren’t complaining yet this was the first time you looked at him in great detail.

What could you say? When Joker took off his clothes, your mind quickly became… distracted.

It was a peaceful morning with the sun pouring in through the windows and Gotham had yet to begin its corruption. Not like it ever took a break.

You and Joker were safely tucked away in the comfort of your bed.

J was knocked out, flat on his stomach, and for once you woke up before him. It was rare to see Joker asleep, so you took the opportunity to admire your lover while it lasted.

The stress of his title was far removed from his features. His face was bare of any greasepaint and surprisingly his hair wasn’t dyed its signature green. J had promised not to color it when around you, thus his natural sun kissed hair was askew all over the sheets.

A gentle smile curled the corner of his scarred lip, and the sight made you copy the action. Joker looked at peace.

Any other morning you would’ve counted his freckles or kissed his nose—today you were on a mission.

Joker was an extremely light sleeper, causing you to move with caution until you straddled his lower back. There you had full access to view his most vulnerable side. A ray of sunlight hit Joker just right and you held back a sigh, seeing all the pain he endured over the years.

Some other time you would kiss them one by one.

Your fingertips grazed the site where you first caught a glimpse of his potential tattoo.

And much to your surprise, a sentence in a language unfamiliar to you was written out in red ink. It almost blended with his skin and if you weren’t intentionally looking, you would’ve never found it.

“Everything burns.”

You jumped hearing Joker’s sleep filled voice recite the text. He turned his head toward you, groggy from sleep but still handsome as ever. Right now, he resembled a grumpy cat deprived of sleep.

You had the decency to be guilty. “I didn’t mean to wake you, J. G-Go back to sleep.” You whispered.

Fat chance of that happening.

Once Joker was up, it would take an act of congress to get him back asleep. Both of you knew that. He yawned and rolled onto his back, extending a hand to hold your hip steady during the position change.

“J… I’m so sorry for waking you. I know you’re exhausted from last night and…”

Why were you still talking? The damage was already done.

“Hush Bunny.” Joker blinked away the last of his sleep to finally rest his eyes on you. Being woken up this early was worth it if this was the reward.

You bathed in the morning sun, gazing down at him like a deity. How did he get so lucky? His thumbs rubbed soothing circles on your hips, as he hummed.

“Mm. I got such a errr curious little Bunny. Did ya find what you were uhh, looking for?”

The sound of his voice so early in the day should honestly be illegal— but you shook your head clear to focus. Now was not the time to be horny.

You did in fact find what you sought out for, but its discovery only opened more questions.

“What language is it in and.. um why use red ink?” You asked.

How did he get access to ink? Was the tat written his native tongue? And it was so tiny, no bigger than your index finger in length. Who can tattoo that small? Joker could see the swarm of questions buzzing in your head.

“Now, now Bunny. Tattoos are powerful messages! Red ink is perfect for uh hiding them in plainnn sight. Why, you’ve seen everyyy inch of me doll and you didn’t notice it.” He stopped to smirk, “Or the others.”

Your bunny ears perked up, “Others?”

Joker thought you were the cutest. He could see every emotion you displayed in real time. He winked at you.

You neglected the fact that Joker didn’t fully answer your question. You were on the hunt for the others. Joker hissed when your cold hands came in contact with his chest but chuckled at his bunny’s avid curiosity.

“You won’t find them like this, my Light. Be a dear and move?” He playfully bucked his hips, causing you to lose your balance.

“Oh!” You fell over and watched as Joker sat up and presented his back to you. It was an honor indeed and you kissed J’s cheek for the amount of trust he gave you.

You hardly saw his back given it was a sore spot for him. But sure enough, the sun’s gaze illuminated his skin for your search, and you saw it all.

Joker inhaled and your eyes dropped down to a patch of skin in wonder. “It’s white ink!” You gasped, “I never seen white before..”

You found a set of dates (no surprise, missing the year), a line of coordinates, another phrase in the same looking foreign language, and an exaggerated smiley face but in black ink. Each little gem was a rabbit’s hole into Joker’s character. You were almost afraid to touch them, it didn’t seem real.

He spun around to kiss you, but you wouldn’t be distracted.

In between kisses and gasps for air you asked, “What do they all mean?” It was your turn to shiver when Joker’s hands came in contact with your body. He was removing your night shirt when he huffed in irritation.

“Do they neee~eeed to have a meaning Y/n?” He pulled back to let you moan out in want. His hands were making it difficult to string sentences together.

“N-No but..” you wavered, and J used your hesitation against you.

“But nothing.”

He pushed you down on the bed and grinned at the hazy look in your eye. You wanted this too. Joker rubbed your knees until you got the message and parted your legs for him.

Joker slotted himself in the space you created and guided you to wrap your legs around his hips. Your hands traveled up his shoulder blades and down to where you now knew his tattoos resided.

With each mind-numbing kiss, you worked hard to memorize every bump and ridge. You weren’t letting this go. If Joker wouldn’t tell you, you’d find out for yourself.

This was dangerous and probably one of the dumbest things you ever did.

Joker was out terrorizing Gotham City tonight, leaving you home alone and burning with curiosity. It was safe to say that you were obsessed.

J gave you plenty of chances to study the grooves of his tattoo with all the sex he instigated. It didn’t matter that you had to learn it backwards, you needed to know what his tattoos meant! You drew what you could duplicate in your notebook and hoped it was correct.

At first you were confused. Joker’s tattoo resembled Braille with its raised font; however, one engine search later found that prison tattoos or ones of lesser value, were not the best and scarred the flesh worse than a professional.

Joker’s tattoos were literally carved into his skin. His threshold for pain was a cause for concern.

After shivering in disgust, you opened a latitude and longitude finder and started entering the coordinates by trial and error.

You were excited to learn more about Joker even if your methods were a bit unconventional. Perhaps it was his old childhood home or the town where he was born! The coordinates were next to tiny Roman numerals for a date, so you assumed that was the meaning behind his tattoos.

Something this important on a man like Joker was bound to be epic.

He certainly went to great lengths to keep it concealed. It was located on his back, in white ink, and no bigger than three to four inches in diameter. Whatever it was, you would solve it.

You were biting your lip in anticipation when the map completed its search. The results shocked you. “Huh? That’s…”

“Home.”

You screamed upon hearing Joker right behind you. He had a habit of sneaking up on you, but today took the cake.

“Joker what are you doing here?! You almost gave me a heart attack! I thought you were staying in Amusement Mile tonight?!”

He ignored all your panic induced questions to focus on your computer. A GPS tracker had finalized its results and dropped a pin smack dab on your apartment. He glanced at your notebook where your handwriting matched the tattoos on his back.

His Light was too curious for her own good.

“If ya want-ed to know.. you could’ve asked me, Y/n.”

“Oh! I know you lying!” You asked him what they meant weeks ago, and he didn’t say! Now he wanna speak up? This man know he got on your last nerve!!

You had the urge to throw something, but you kept your cool.

Joker seemed to enjoy your irritation. He shrugged off his coat and made himself comfortable at your desk. He chose to ignore you calling him a liar, though.

“Are ya done, doll?” He mused.

“No, I’m not!” you tapped the computer screen, “Why does it point here?” You asked.

Joker twirled around in your desk chair, throwing you a ‘are you kidding me’ look. He was having a grand old time acting like a whole kid; you were waiting for an explanation.

He was making you dizzy so you reached out and stopped his little merry go round ride. J laughed and waited for the room to stop spinning before grabbing your hand.

“I uh de-cide-ed to keep a.. permanenT record of home on me should I ahh, ever get.. lost. Smart huh?”

Never mind the fact he couldn’t see it, you were touched.

You caved and walked straight into Joker’s lap. His hands found their rightful place on your hips as he looked up at his Light.

Your hands busied themselves in his hair, curling wayward strands around your fingers. “I-I’m home to you?”

J just nodded and quickly regretting the motion after spinning around so much.

“And the date?”

His lips pecked your exposed midriff before he rested his head against it. “The uh.. day we met.”

How do you respond to such a heartfelt confession? Simple. You don’t.

All you could do was blink back tears and pray that Joker didn’t hear you crying. Maybe he did since his grip tightened around you. Silence enveloped the room. Hidden within the scars of his past was a reminder of a brighter future.

Joker was grateful you didn’t poke any further and deduced the other portion of his tattoo. He told you the first half that was written in red ink, but not the added line in white.

Underneath the coordinates to home and the day he found his light, a vow was etched in a language he long since forgotten.

Everything burns, but not her.  

[hareharrison]

hold me

pairing: george harrison x reader

summary: george is in the process of finishing abbey road, and has been repeatedly coming home frustrated. instead of talking to you about it, he distances himself completely, and only speaks to you in annoyance or anger, and lashes out on you. he doesn’t know how much it affects you and one day comes home to the effects firsthand.

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, angy geo, neurodivergent reader, invasive thoughts, mental breakdown/panic attack, but it works out in the end

a/n: hayyyy ok so i wrote this as a comfort fic for myself, and i decided to post it cause why not. i struggle with intense fear of abandonment cause of bpd haha fun 😐and wanted to make it from the POV of a neurodivergent reader?? so this is like a comfort fic for ND readers?? idk if i need to put any other potential trigger warnings for this but if i do please lmk and i will fix it

year: 1969

the flat was quiet without him. to be honest, it was quiet with or without him, lately. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, george had been distant. he was always a quiet person, but he has never dismissed you this much. you knew that his job could be tiring and you tried not to overthink it, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. a voice in your head was planting horrible ideas, saying things like, “you fucked up, he doesn’t like you anymore, you’re annoying.” but still, you pushed on and tried your best to ignore the noise in your brain.

you sigh heavily and slide back into the couch. you had the next two days off of work, and nothing to do. george of course had to work on your days off, which left you alone at home. with your thoughts. it was hard getting through today, your intrusive thoughts were particularly loud... but he would be home any minute now, which brought on a bit of hope; seeing him should rid you of your own jailhoused mind.

the tv played some sitcom in front of you, which you had no interest in. all you could think about was if you ruined things. what if he was thinking of leaving you? it would be your fault... and yet you couldn’t think of a single thing you’ve ever done that might have hurt him.

the door opened gently and let in a cool draft that brushed against your warm skin. you look toward the entrance, seeing your george sigh heavily with exhaustion as he took his shoes and coat off. he looked up to you, his boldly furrowed brows softening.

“hi, love,” he says, walking toward you. you stand and approach him to greet him with a quick kiss. he holds you for a little longer than usual, and you take the opportunity to melt into his arms and breathe in his smell, something you’d been deprived of recently. he rests his chin on top of your head, which laid comfortably on his rising chest. it was moments like this that made all your worries slip away, moments like this that you wished you could cling onto forever and ever.

“how was your day?” you ask, finally leaning back to look up at him. he lets go of you and runs a hand through his long hair.

“not good,” he says, a frown on his perfectly sculpted face. you return his expression at the sight of him being sad. quickly, you remember your dinner ideas. maybe that would cheer him up.

“hey, maybe we can go get something to eat? maybe get your mind off of things?” you suggest, looking up at his brown eyes. he looks down at you, eyes full of regret.

“i’m sorry love, but i’d rather just head to bed already,” he says remorsefully. you smile softly and reassure him that it’s okay and he should get some rest. but part of you breaks inside, knowing he doesn’t want to spend time with you.

he headed upstairs and you followed, the painful ideas returning at full speed.

“you’re so annoying, of course he doesn’t want to spend any time with you. you’re so annoying and clingy,” your brain says and you flinch at the harsh thoughts. through your entire bedtime routine, thoughts flooded your mind and filled your entire being up, and you felt like you were being drowned from the inside out. george stood next to you as you both brushed your teeth, not speaking a single word to you or giving you a single glance. you changed into one of george’s t-shirts and watched as he slid out of his clothes and into his pajamas in seconds. he muttered a monotone, “good night,” before turning on his side, his back facting you.

as much as you didn’t want to, you believed the mean voices and hung your head as you got into bed next to george.

you slept back to back that night.

————————————————————

the sun seeped into your room through your windows, and invaded your bed, waking you rather unpleasantly. you groan lightly as you reached over your bed for george, but only found empty space. his side of the bed was cold, indicating that he’d been up for a while now.

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes as the aromas of freshly brewed coffee and morning dew hit your senses. you hear the song of the early birds chirping as your feet hit the cool floor. as you head downstairs, you can hear george on the phone, and you soon see him muttering softly before taking a long drag from his cigarette. you don’t bother him, seeing that there was paperwork on the table and his call must be business related. naturally, you decide to head for the coffee, the smell luring you in like a fish.

you poured the hot, dark liquid into your favorite mug and add in your preferred amounts of cream and sugar. looking out the window, you see water drip gently from the leaves of a tree that george and you had planted a year ago. you sip your coffee and reminisce about the times you used to actually spend time with george. how nice it was, seeing him smile so often.

you suddenly hear george raise his voice at the phone, something unlike him entirely. you jump at the unpleasant sound before peeking through the hallway to see what on earth was happening.

“no, i don’t care! i want the bloody bastard fired, in fact, tell him not to bother showing up today,” he shouts into the phone before slamming it down, placing his head between his knees and groaning in frustration. seeing george this upset and acting out on it was truly a rare sighting, and you thought carefully about what to next.

after careful consideration, you tiptoe into the room and gently rest a hand on his shoulder, the sudden contact making him flinch.

“christ, (y/n) are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?” he grumbles before lighting another cigarette.

“sorry,” you say softly, “would you like some tea?” you figure it could calm his anger and soothe some of his abnormal irritability.

“what? tea? there’s already coffee made,” he says rudely. you take a step back, saying nothing. you know that you didn’t do anything and that this behavior would pass. george was never like this. your eyes find the time and see that george should have left ten minutes ago.

“george, you’re gonna be late to work,” you say, thinking you could at least do something helpful. his head snaps back at you and his once soft face turned hard with anger.

“what are you implying? you want me gone?” he stands up and angrily grabs all of the papers scattered on the table, shoving them into a folder and the folder into his bag, “fine, i’ll leave. im out the door.”

you look at him in confusion, you’d barely woken up and were just trying to help, “what’s the matter with you?”

“what’s the matter with me,” he repeats, looking away and scoffing. he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, “im sick of this, (y/n)! im sick of life. i come home exhausted and you have half a mind to ask me if i want to talk about it!”

“you always want to go straight to bed,” you defend yourself, hurt that he would even suggest that you don’t care about him. his dark eyes glare into your own for a moment that feels like hours, trying to think of somethig clever to say in response, but he just wasn’t ever much of a fighter. he finally chooses to put his cigarette out on the table’s ashtray and grab his coat. if you wanted him out of the house, he was more than happy to comply.

“george-“ you start.

“no,” he cuts you off, “don’t say anything right now, i can’t even look at you.” and he doesn’t, he ignores your presence entirely as he picks up his bag and walks out the door.

you’re left in the cold house, alone, hurt, and dumbfounded. you couldn’t believe what had just happened. you couldn’t believe that george, your george, had taken his anger out on you, simply for trying to help his morning be less shitty. worse than that, he thought you wanted him gone, when all you wanted was to be with him. is this how it was going to be now? a bitter, loveless relationship? your eyes sting with fresh tears at the thought, and a huge lump in your throat grows painfully. you take a deep breath before heading upstairs. you wanted anything but to cry this early in the morning, and the only reason you got up somewhat early was to see george before he left to work. now that your morning was ruined, you figured heading back to bed was the next best thing.

you climb back into your shared bed, suppressing your emotions with the warmth of your fluffy blankets and soft pillows. the comfort of a bed felt almost like a hug, and you sighed, letting the pain drift away as you fell asleep.

————————————————————

when you opened your eyes, the realization hit you. you’d slept until the sun began to set, completely ignoring your emotions, stuffing them down inside of you like an overflowing trash can. being awake made them fling right back at you; sleeping didn’t change a thing, and was only a temporary pause in your pain.

all of your feelings came back to you at once, and it once again felt like you were drowning internally. only this time, the thoughts weren’t the invasive factor. your emotions were overwhelmingly intense on top of your brain practically screaming horrible things to you. your breathing quickens as you feel tears slide down your face. this time you werent able to swallow the thick lump in your throat, and you began to weep softly.

this was it, george was leaving you. he hates you, he wants nothing to do with you. there was nothing you could do but hug your knees and cry. you choked on a sob and started rocking back and forth in attempts to try to soothe yourself. but you couldn’t stop, it felt like your entire world was falling apart. you soon began to have shortness of breath and struggled with your breathing, feeling your heart beat at an intense rate that you couldn’t control.

your bedroom door opens, revealing george’s early arrival. he immediately rushes to your side, afraid to touch you but wanting so bad to comfort you.

“(y/n)? (y/n), breathe. breathe, baby,” he takes your hand and you look at him. you aren’t sure if him being here is making the situation better or worse. seeing him try to help you stirred all kinds of feelings in your mind. you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, like you didn’t deserve his help.

george begins breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth, gently guiding you and hoping you will try to do the same. he sits in front of you on the bed and holds your face in his gentle hands. you look up into his eyes, the chocolate features of his face soothing you as your breath began to steady.

“that’s it,” he encourages.

“do you hate me?” you cry softly.

“what? no, (y/n), i’d give my life for yours, do you know that? you’re so, very special to me,” he slides over to sit beside you on the bed and wraps his long arms around you.

“why are you so distant?” you look up at him, and tears continue to roll down your flushed cheeks, “you acted so mean to me this morning, i feel like you want nothing to do with me.”

george is hurt by your words. he truly didn’t mean to be distant, and he never wanted to hurt you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, “ive been so overwhelmed i haven’t stopped to think of how you must feel. im really sorry my love i never meant to hurt you like this.” he embraces you tightly and you give into his comforting touch, wrapping your arms around his torso and digging your face into his chest. 

you take a deep breath, “i understand,” you say before looking up to him to whisper, “i miss you. i miss us.”

“i miss you too darling,” he pauses for a moment, “how about i take tomorrow off? we can do whatever you’d like.”

you sniffle, “what about the album? the deadline?” 

“i can fake sick. nothing is more important to me than you,” he says, “i want nothing more than to be with you. i love you so much.”

you smile when he presses a soft kiss to your aching head, “now how about we go have something to eat? i’m starved.”

[breathings-of-the-heart]

Stuck on You (Levi x Childhood Friend! Reader) Part 2

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been kinda a while but here is part 2~ I have this habit of writing and rewriting my pieces since I’m never fully satisfied by them, but overdoing that is just as bad so I’m going to leave this as is ajflkajada  The amount of love my first part recieved was so genuinely heart warming and I cannot express my gratitude enough. I’m nervous to post this because of it, to be honest, because I hope it lives up to the expectations. Thank you to everyone who has shown me support, it means so much! If you guys want a part three, or maybe just a short epilogue, I will consider it so let me know! Also if you would like to be tagged in my future works, comment below or send me a message <3 I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, Season 1 and No Regrets ova spoilers

Word Count: 4k

If you haven’t already, read part one here

As a former member of the Scouts yourself, you knew the ins and outs of the military’s regulations. Because of this, you also knew your request was a strange one, seeing as soldiers weren’t typically allowed visitors, but you hoped your letter appealed to the more personal side of Commander Erwin. Apparently it somehow moved the man, seeing as you had been brought by carriage to the legion's base the following night.  

The clopping of horse hooves eventually stopped, and you were currently being escorted into the building by another familiar face, her hand already outstretched to help you out of the vehicle as soon as the door swung open.  

“I understand your reservations about this, but you’re brave for coming here. I think he’ll be relieved to see you, (Y/N),” Hange spoke, her fingers hovering over the small of your back as she guided you down one of the many hallways, lantern swinging in her free hand. “I think he could benefit from seeing a familiar face.”

Your eyes were downcast, staring at the floor as rooms upon rooms passed by along your path. You couldn’t speak if you tried, words seemingly stuck in your throat and unable to keep up with your racing thoughts.

Deep breaths, (Y/N).

For better or for worse, there was no need to reply, as Hange came to a halt not a second later. She squeezed your shoulder gently before bringing her knuckles to the wooden door, knocking once, twice.

Your hands were clammy, heart thundering in your ears as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Levi, someone is here to see you,” Hange’s voice rang out firmly.

There was a distinct sound of a chair being pushed back, and footsteps growing nearer. Time slowed down, and you began to second guess every decision up to now. Would Levi even want you to be here? Will he be angry? You felt like bolting away and forgetting about the whole idea, suddenly afraid of his reaction. Afraid that your presence would only make everything worse.

Your eyes were widening as you realized the possibility of leaving was too late to explore, Levi already turning the handle from the other side. So instead, you swallowed your pride, stood up straighter, and pushed away the growing sensation of nausea in your gut.

“Who could possibly be important enough to interrupt my--”


The second his eyes met yours, Levi halted in all movements. Your gaze was fixed on him as well, every bit of longing settling back in your bones the second it did.

He looked nearly the same as the last time you saw him, clean and kempt as ever, hair styled the way it always was-- the same way he’d keep it when he used to chastise you for running your fingers through it.

And those stoic, gray irises that drew you in your were fierce, yet somehow emptier. At the sight of you, his flooding emotions became too much to properly register, unlocking every moment you’d ever spent with him as they replayed all at once.

“(Y/N)?” He couldn’t hide his disbelief, eyes widening ever so slightly. 


“Hello, Levi.” 


~~~~~~~~~

Never did Levi think he would grow to care for another group of people the same way he had for you, Farlan, and Isabel. But sitting around Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oruo, he found their excited chatter over the dinner table endearing more than anything. The ever stoic look on his face didn’t change, and he would never openly admit it, but it felt reminiscent to be surrounded by trusted company like this. All of Squad Levi had full faith in one another; it was necessary for the battle field. This created an unspoken bond between all of them that the unreachable Ackerman did not picture building with others again.

Fate worked in funny ways, he supposed.

Sounds of clinking silverware and chatter filled the mess hall, sun setting outside of its many windows and painting the expanse in an orange light. The males eyes drifted towards the entrance of the room expectantly, where a clock rested above the doorway. He took a sip of his tea whilst squinting at it, attempting to get a better read before feeling a slight jab in his side.

“Looking for someone, sir?” Petra inquired, with a hint of deeper emotion in her tone that went right over the male’s head.

He glared at her in annoyance, having almost spilled his drink as the thought of you returned to the forefront of his mind.

It was strange, seeing how capable you had become after spending those months by yourself in the Underground. They made you a bit more calloused than when Levi last saw you, carrying over to your skills as a Scout. You never used to be skilled at riding ODM gear, not even when Levi tried to teach you in your youth. Seeing you slash Titans without blinking an eye was like watching someone completely different.

But you had to learn, since you had no one to protect you.

Your open displays affection had grown fewer and farther between as your time in the Survey Corps dragged on. At first, Levi thought nothing of it. Truthfully, the Captain had hardly noticed, with how busy the both of you were. He wrote it off as stress, or the workload catching up to you. Or, maybe, it was that nagging thought in the back of his conscience he dared not dwell on: he had turned you into this, after being away for so long and then failing to protect your friends.

But as your words replayed in his mind like a broken record, too late he realized this wasn’t the case.

“I see the way you look at her. I see it because you used to look at me that way.”

“Captain?” Petra repeated, leaning forward to study his distant countenance and successfully pulling the man out of his thoughts. “She’s probably just training.”

He rested his hand on top of her head, turning it away from him and sighing.

“Eat, Petra. I don’t need you to be whining about hunger during our patrol tomorrow morning,” he chastised, forcing his eyes away from the doorway.

After that talk, Levi had watched you go, telling himself that you’d return soon enough. Yet could not shake the feeling in his gut that there was something amiss. He pushed away the pit in his stomach. You were safe, you were healthy, and that was all that mattered. Humanity’s Strongest had other things to focus on, after all, and tuned back into his comrades’ conversation. The man blended back in easily, occasionally offering a few of his own comments as the meal dragged on.

Every so often his thoughts would shift back to your conversation earlier that day, and he realized that you were wrong. As close to Petra as he had gotten, there was a stark difference between you and her:

No matter how strong you’d get, and no matter what you thought of him, Levi would always shield you from as much of this world as he could.

But it was better this way. Better if you moved on from him and easier to do if you thought it was because he wanted Petra.

If only he knew your last words to him “I’ll be back for dinner,” had been a lie.

It had been strange for him when you didn’t return. Levi tried not to think about how Kenny had done the same, instead grasping for a reason. For once, he could not read your thought process. The male had no idea why you’d voluntarily leave, after everything. He knew better than to hold onto certainty, but you’d thrown him for a loop. You were always the one to communicate, the problem solver, the one who understood him without much direction. Didn’t you know that you were irreplaceable? He should have come clean: told you that he didn’t see Petra that way, and just didn’t have the heart to admit he didn’t feel good enough for you anymore.

Did he ever even get the chance to say “I love you?”

His regret multiplied tenfold as he began to understand that maybe if he had, you would’ve stayed.

~~~~~~~~

A strange sense of comfort washed over the man as you smiled softly, small hands clasped together in front of you. He blinked, wondering if you were simply a mirage caused by his sleep deprivation. But you remained where you were, after all this time, standing at his door. For once in the man’s life, his mind was drawing a blank.

“I’ll leave you guys to it, then,” Hange stated, excusing herself and soon disappearing out of sight. 


Her statement pulled the both of you back into the present, and you were suddenly self conscious of Levi’s stare. You tucked your hair behind your ears and gestured towards his office, unable to gage his reaction to your presence.

“Would it be alright if I came in?” you asked shyly, astonished he hadn’t slammed the door in your face the second Hange left. 


To your shock, Levi simply nodded, stepping aside to let you through. Your movements were unsure and hesitant, stark in comparison to his: calm and collected as ever.

Just like any space Levi occupied, the area was clean and tidy, a lantern sitting upon his desk the only source of light against the cloudy night sky. It smelled like tea leaves, sandalwood, and disinfectant, a signature scent that made you fill with nostalgia. As the click of the door echoed behind you, the reality of your situation set in, and you turned around to face the man you were here to see.

His gaze had never left you.

“You’re hurt,” was the first thing that left your mouth, concern evident as you studied the bandaging that peaked above his knee length shoes. 


“Long story,” Levi offered curtly, eyeing you up and down from a few feet away. “One I don’t particularly care to tell you.” 


“Of course, that’s fine,” you agreed softly, a weak smile pulling at your lips.

You did your best to mask the hurt, knowing you deserved to feel it. It hurt to be here, the fear that Levi hated you previously keeping you away. Now that you were facing the music, that fear seemed more realistic than ever. Your brain wracked to change the topic before your mind could continue overthinking; desiring instead to cut the unbearable, building tension that never used to exist between you two.

“How are you, Levi?” it was a stupid question, but you no longer knew how to talk to him.

“(Y/N).”


The way he said your name was sharp and challenging. You quickly cleared your throat and looked away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Of course you’re--”


“--Why did you leave?” Levi effectively cut you off, orbs narrowing as you dared to come closer.

The question caught you off guard. You thought you’d made it obvious with your last conversation with him those years ago. Surely, he had some idea, although his pained expression said otherwise. His fingers twitched at his sides, a movement you didn’t miss as your eyes flickered back to his in surprise. He had been so composed just a moment ago, that the sudden shift gave you whiplash.

Now his fists were clenching, as he waited in the painful silence, knuckles turning white.

“Why did you leave?” The phrase echoed tauntingly in your ears, over and over again.  

You don’t know what came over you. All you knew was that you needed to rid him of the rare, defeated look etched into his countenance. To purge him of this feeling you caused. Whether reaching out would help or hurt, you didn’t know.

But you needed to be near him.  

Levi’s eyelids screwed shut as you brushed your thumb across his cheek. The action was so simple, so delicate, so unsure and so familiar all at once, and at the feeling, the Captain’s composure finally came undone.


He reached up and gripped your wrist, as if you’d fade away if he let go. In previous years, it was always you who craved skinship, yet it seemed as if a weight had been lifted off Levi’s shoulders to have you this close. Your touch still felt like the comforting warmth of a campfire; the type that would make anyone want to stay forever.

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d be better off without me,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to cause you any pain.”

He let out a breath.

“Then why are you here now?” his question was more defeated than hostile, which you hadn’t expected.

If someone asked a few hours ago, your answer would have been much clearer. But now, the logic that brought you here seemed overshadowed by doubt. After all this time, and after everything that had happened between you and Levi, any semblance of a relationship with him seemed unsalvageable. You told yourself this mantra over and over until it stuck. So why were you here?

Levi must’ve thought it audacious, for you to run away like a coward and still think you were relevant to him.

“I owe you so much. Whether I ended up being wrong or right, I’ve always acted with your best interest,” you sighed, thumb brushing over Levi’s dark circles. “Truthfully, I don’t know if I’m any use to you now. I might be the last person you want to seek comfort from, but on the off chance that I still matter to you, I’ll always come back,” you whispered earnestly.

Levi’s grip on your wrist tightened imperceptibly, and you longed to bury your face in the crook of his neck; to feel him wrap his arms around you in his embrace once more. It seemed as if Levi was staring into your soul, his shallow breaths mingling with yours at this close proximity as he opened his eyes to fully drink you in.

“I’m here to tell you that if you need me, I’ll stay.”


He looked to the side as if brushing aside your touch, hand falling away from the raven-haired man’s face as he did so. It felt like rejection, as if he was brushing all of you away with a simple turn of his head.

Silence.

“You’re a real idiot, (Y/N),” he spoke finally, voice nearly out of place against the stillness.

Moonlight suddenly peaked through the window, showering you in a bath of silver light. Levi recognized this look. You were wearing your heart on your sleeve, offering everything you had to give; eyes wide and honest, shining with a vulnerability that even after a lifetime of knowing you, he had never seen before. The man felt conflicted at the sight, annoyance prickling under his skin as you somehow managed to hold him together and tear him apart all at once with your presence.

Losing his squad twist that knife in his heart, convincing him that he was cursed to be left by everyone and his superhuman talents only doomed him to live a life alone.

But now, here you were, standing within arms length: despite the pain you caused, still the only person he had left. Only you could draw this much emotion out of the typically monotonous man. He couldn’t tell if you were a blessing or a curse, but in the moment, all he knew was that he didn’t want you to leave again. He needed you to stay here, with him, the way it should be. Because you were family.

And true to your word, you did.

“You should really get some sleep, you know,” you stated after a while, closing the door with your foot as you entered with two fresh cups of tea. 


You watched Levi fill out paperwork on the other side of the desk, bringing the cup to his lips in the strange fashion you always teased him for. His gaze flickered up boredly.

“You know I don’t sleep. You go on ahead, though. The bed’s behind that door,” he paused, gesturing somewhere behind him. “I hardly ever use it.”  

You shook your head, reaching forward and plucking Levi’s pen from his hand.  


“What you’re drinking is caffeine free. I switched it, so you have no excuse now.” You ignored the indignant scowl growing on the Captain’s face, urging him to listen. “Please, you really should rest. You know you need to.”

It took an entire hour of imploring and convincing for the man to finally give in, him grumbling as you helped take off the boot on his injured foot and ushered him onto the bed. You knew you were the last person with any right to tell the short Captain what to do, but knowing Levi, he was running on an hour or two of sleep while his body was begging for rest. And yes, you were very much hypocritical, draped across the couch in Levi’s office, staring at the ceiling. But none of that mattered to you, as long as he was okay.

You had been lost in introspection, being a room away from your childhood best friend and first love after so long a surreal experience. It felt strange to be back here, but you were too tired to dwell on how strangely out of place you seemed in a place you once called home.

The weight of your abundant emotions from the day finally crashed down, fatigue settling in. You rubbed your eyes, and snuggled closer to the cushions, letting the darkness claim you.

And in the other room, as Levi slipped out of his uniform, shaking his head in exasperation. His last thoughts while he inspected the door as if he could see you through it, was that of course only (Y/N) (L/N) could be more stubborn than he was.

As he slipped under the covers per your command, the ghost of a smile spread across his lips at the thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perhaps it was the constant danger of where you grew up, and the need to always stay on your toes, but for as long as you could remember, you’d been a light sleeper. If someone so much as stared at you for too long, your body would jolt awake, ready to take action within a moment’s notice. There had been many instances where this came in handy in your past; even after years of seldom disruption in your now boring life within the walls, this was a trait you never seemed to grow out of. So it wasn’t hard to notice the heavy breathing and panicked movement from behind Levi’s closed door.

Just like for you, some things never changed-- when it came to old habits, you knew the man like the back of your hand. The reason he rarely ever slept was one you were quite familiar with. One both of you struggled with, and probably always would. Nightmares never seem to stop. You’d gotten through so many of your own rough nights with your friends by your side.

Levi, however, always refused to admit how they affected him. Insisted on going through it by himself.  

The subconscious urge to look after one other was most likely one you'd never grow out of, even if Levi had. You didn’t think twice before making your way across the office, swinging your legs across the sofa, awake within seconds. Without missing a beat, you stood up and made your way to Levi’s personal sleeping quarters, knuckles rapping against the frame twice. Levi’s shallow gasps quieted, and when you realized he didn’t plan on opening the door, you steeled your nerves to do it yourself. This was what you were here for, wasn’t it? To offer some comfort?

He did want me to stay.

“Levi?” You called into the darkness gently, feet padding foreword as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

His silhouette was upright in the bed, no doubt staring at you menacingly.

“I'm fine, (Y/N). Go back to sleep,” he snapped.

That didn't deter you, for he would never openly admit vulnerability. This was by no means new behavior. Besides, the strong emotion behind the Captain’s voice was an easy tell that betrayed his words. You pressed on, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Do you remember the time we were teenageers and you got sick, but couldn’t afford medicine so I took that sketchy job you specifically told me not to?” Your back was to him, yet you could feel Levi peering at you.

“Obviously,” he humoured you with a reply, knowing you weren’t going to leave. “You came home half alive and I felt like the most useless piece of shit in the world.”

You chuckled, fingers fiddling with the white sheets beneath them.

“Yes, which was unfair to yourself but also something I did not realize since you called me pretty much every name in the book,” you smiled, the memory oddly fond despite its events. “You were so angry, but I was also scared out of my mind... which was more important than your anger, I suppose. So you let me lay next to you that night. That was all it took to make me feel safe again.”

There was a long pause, you trying to get your words together in a way that could allow Levi to understand how you felt right now.

“I know what you’re thinking; what you’ve been thinking your whole life. You haven’t failed anyone and that stupid idea should be the furthest thing on your mind. Take it from someone who knows, alright? So many lives have had meaning because of y--”

His hand closed around your wrist, the grip much like it was the day you left him.

This time, he would not let go.

“--Stop, (Y/N). Don’t.”

You hadn’t realized there were tears falling down your cheeks until Levi turned your face to look at him. Trying to look away in your embarrassment, you laughed bitterly. His grip did not budge as he examined you sternly.  

“Just be quiet and go to sleep, alright?”

You wiped at your face, determination etched into every fibre of your being.

“Mark my words, Levi, I will make you believe me.”

Levi rolled his eyes but tugged at you once more, opening the duvet in an invitation. When he sensed your uncertainty he simply nodded, arms winding around your waist as you finally crawled in beside him. Both of you knew that there was so much that still needed to be said; so many buried feelings and pain that would only take time to unravel. It felt like a miracle to find yourselves in this situation, pushing aside the thousands of emotions and questions and misunderstandings the two of you had, if only to stay together in this moment.

You didn’t need Levi to know that you still loved him; not while he was coping with another loss. It would be selfish to spring that on, and that was not what you were here for. But you had to tell him:

“I missed you.”

Levi hummed, nose brushing against yours in the close proximity.  

“You better not be gone when I wake up,” he chided in response, orbs fluttering shut.

Your fingers threaded through his onyx black locks, brushing through the knots soothingly. Knowing you’d help this man heal no matter how long it took, you took comfort in the realization that he’d finally let you do just that.  

“I’ll be right here. You’re not alone, Levi. I promise you never will be.”

He pulled you closer, thankful that there was at least one source of warmth left in his life that he could hold onto-- especially after coming to terms with and almost having been certain he’d never experience this feeling of contentment, again. But here you were to prove him wrong, a living slice of home in his arms.

It may have been wishful thinking, but you could have sworn you felt Levi’s breath fan across your hairline, a soft voice whispering “Thank you, (Y/N).” before you felt yourself slip away into slumber once more.

taglist: @asterroidd @chucky-26o1 @silversxble @belovedwindermere @christina-mj-stan @leviackerrman @cravrat @thekohakuriver1 @batakprincess @sunisenpai

[angeli-marco-writes]

∘◦  ღ  ◦∘  Harrison Osterfield - Quarantine  ∘◦  ღ  ◦∘

A/N - I wrote this during the first lockdown that Britain were in. ow we’re in the third, and almost a year later, I’m uploading this onto my Tumblr from my Wattpad. And yes, before everyone says it, I am fully aware that the Holland’s and Haz were isolating in two different houses and haven’t been living together for months, but this makes it more amusing, and as I say, it was written a while ago. I do not know Harrison, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own. 

Warnings - cursing, smut, detailed sex, cockwarming, oral, kinky names, mentions of sleeping around... you know the drill by now.

Summary - Quarantine with a bunch of sex deprived twenty-odd year old boys isn’t your idea of fun, especially not when the only one you want refuses to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Taking measures into your own hands is only simple until you get caught.

YOU AREN’T SURE HOW, but in some strange twist of fate, you’ve ended up in self isolation with the Holland’s. But it doesn’t end there, no, not just the Holland’s, but Harrison and Tuwaine too.

You have a bed in the attic, the other side of Harrison’s room, but you’re hardly sleeping in it. Seeing as you’re the only girl among an entire collection of (ahem, horny) and barely adult boys, you were most certainly on their beckon call. You didn’t mind being called to Sam, Harry’s, even Tom’s rooms late at night; you simply wished that you'd be asked to sleep with the one you actually wanted. Harrison.

You and he had been friends as long as you could remember, neighbours from age 4 and friends ever since. Even through uni when you studied a double major and you had zero free time, he was still constant in your life. You’d met Tom and the boys, the twins being closer to your age, and gotten on with them all as well. It just so happened that you ended up on a job with Mr Holland, and that’s what brought all of you closer together with you being in their house often to work on this project it also just so happened that you’d been hanging around with them all when lockdown was announced, leaving you to be in trouble if you drove halfway across London to your own home, so they invited you to stay and had any and all necessary items mailed to you by your roommate. You were only trusted to stay with Harrison after your history together and nothing ever having come of you two, though Mrs Holland did not trust the other boys enough with you and therefore did a bed check every night and every morning to make sure you were alone, though it was always a deceitful check on everyone’s behalf. 

You didn’t thank Tom, Sam or Harry post-sex since you’d always have to return to your own cold bed, next to a sleeping Harrison, a sleeping Harrison who wouldn’t dare use you as a booty call like the other three did. It was safe to say that Harrison also had no idea of your truancies since he slept like a light and no one would discuss your actions at the dinner table to save your dignity, and their own necks.

Tonight though, you have other plans. Harrison has some papers to look through and will therefore be sitting at his desk, procrastinating before his computer for hours, only to be left to flick through the contract at an utterly ungodly hour, and he’d proceed to sleep tomorrow, all throughout the day. You were going to help him relax: maybe a massage, a cuddle, a blunt. Or you’d sit on his lap, watch to see whether he’d tense or relax beneath your bare legs, or whether he’d pick up on whose shirt you were to wear. That was the only tell: you’d steal a shirt from each brother to wear as a mark the next day, but you’d simply claim they were more comfortable than your own tight fitting button downs and crop tops. Harrison hadn’t noticed, not yet though as far as you knew, but each brother wore a slight smirk every day that you wore their shirt.

It hurt that Harrison wouldn’t be able to tell with his usual obliviousness, but you’d shower before seeing to him tonight, and wear one of his shirts so that when he got it back it might smell like you, a scent he claimed to enjoy.

As soon as dinner finishes, you leap away from the three boys all vying for your attention.

“I have work to do, and a shower to have. Plus, I’m tired.” You respond to all three on your journey up the stairs, hearing Harrison groan very loudly from the attic, followed by his head hitting the keyboard of his laptop. You smile sadly to yourself, a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement expelling from your body while the water lashes at your skin, soothing any pain or fear you may be feeling. You increase the heat, allowing the steam to fill your pores as you lean your head forwards to keep your hair dry, held in a messy bun.

You imagine his touch all over your bare body, his finger tracing your jaw, but a knock on the door and a yell to hurry up snaps you from your trance, making you turn off the water and wrap a soft towel (that you know to be Harrison’s) around yourself. You scowl at Harry on your way out, in response to which he sticks his tongue out childishly. 

You end up mostly dry after taking a longer than usual walk up the steps to the attic, lingering on each one until the balls of your feet become sore. You peek your head around the door, only to see Harrison in a hoodie and boxers, a grimace on his lips while attacking his keyboard with a ferocity that you’ve scarcely seen. His anger causes you to furrow your brows, silently wishing that you succeed in calming him instead of making him feel worse. 

You slip into a pair of panties and grab your favourite of his shirts off one of the hangers. You pull out your phone under a guise if he spots you, absentmindedly scrolling through your feed while eyeing Harrison. He slows his typing and begins clicking his mouse at the screen slowly, intently reading the reams of white on his laptop. 

It’s time, you tell yourself, standing up from the bed and walking behind him. You place your hands on his shoulders, splaying your fingers and digging your thumbs in. Harrison’s body goes lax, his hands falling from the laptop to the desk, laying his hands flat on the wood. He lets out a groan and rolls his head back, falling right onto the pillow of your chest. You continue to rub his shoulders, enjoying the way he’s slowly relaxing under your therapeutic touch, that is until he swats you away with a small, sad smile. You sigh, having none of it, and crawl your hands down to the hem of his hoodie.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his tone dripping with boredom. “I have this contract to read, you know I do.”

“Exactly.” You reply after thinking for a moment. You want to say the right thing, you want this to go seamlessly, so every word has to be perfect, not to mention every action.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t battle against your bid to remove his hoodie, and obligingly lifts his arms up over his head so that you can pull his jumper off. You toss it to the side and hear something fall to the floor, but that’s somehow the least of your concerns. You reward Harrison with a kiss to the soft, unblemished skin of his neck - but it won’t stay that way, not for much longer. 

You thread your fingers into his beautiful brown locks and tug a little, just to let him know that you mean business. His lips part as though intending to let out a groan of some kind, but it doesn’t come, so with disappointment you continue to play with his hair the way you love to. He doesn’t stop you, so that’s something, right?

When he hasn’t given you attention for too long, albeit about five minutes, you walk around in front of him. His eyes are forced to retrain from his screen to where your breasts show in his top. Apparently, going braless in one of his tops has its perks, not talking about your nipples.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs. He pushes his chair out and gestures for you to drape yourself over his legs and lap, which you do more than willingly while wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging at the wonderfully soft curls at the nape.

“I know this isn’t ideal, you need to do proper work and be having contact with your girls, but I’ll get you out soon, I know the boys are a lot.”

You simply hum in acknowledgement, adjusting your seat on his bare legs. Skin on skin, electrifying in every sense of the word. 

“That is why you’re doing this, right?” He asks, nervously almost, and you instantly feel as though you’re molesting him, until he wraps his strong arms around your back. You could moan at the contact, his muscles tensing all around you, the feel of Harrison and his smell radiating around you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

You move your hands to his shoulders and begin to massage again, just from the front this time, a feeble attempt to procrastinate against your goal. Harrison’s gone back to reading his screen, so while he’s still gathering what he’s reading, it’s your only shot.

You twist on his lap until you’re completely straddling him, your forehead pressed to his. The beautiful blue-green of his eyes sends you into a trance, melting your insides. You can swear that you see him nod a little, so you begin to move your hips. You grind and swirl on his lap, undulating your hips in a perfect figure of eight when you feel him harden beneath you.

With your ministrations paused momentarily, you take a sharp intake of breath and say, “This was never about attention because I’ve been stuck with the boys, this is because I want you.”

Harrison’s face instantly melts into an expression of relief, a goofy smile on his (what you hope to be) soft lips.

“I thought you didn’t want me because you were sleeping with the others,” he says, and you shake your head, tears of relief and happiness almost spilling from your eyes. You feel warm and fuzzy despite the guilt, shame and anger bubbling from your truancies with the Holland boys. 

“You knew then?”

“How couldn’t I?” He remarks, “you’re all they talk about when there’s no adults and no Paddy in the room. What they did to you, how many times they made you cry out their names, the marks they tried to leave on you until your own dominant side came out. Every conversation I had to excuse myself out of mainly respect from you, because what they said upset me but I just couldn’t say so, but then I just came up here and imagined what you’d be doing to me.” Your heart hitches in your throat, butterflies filling your stomach and travelling into your every limb, making your skin tingle. Your stomach rises in goosebumps, as does the skin of your thighs, and you notice that it’s because Harrison has his hands underneath your (his) shirt, and he’s skimming over your waist and legs, holding you and savouring the feel of your skin beneath him. He kisses your neck, once, twice, and it’s gone.

He turns back to his computer and continues his work, looking over your shoulder and letting his eyes train every tiny black line of script on his screen. Your neediness is at an all time high, one hand resting absently on your hip, just above your bum while his other hand clicks at his keyboard and mouse like it’s second nature. The speed of his fingers makes you even needier, craving for him to be inside you already, so you climb onto his bare thigh and trap it between your own. 

You dig your hips down into his leg, grinding and aching for friction, and you already know that you’re dripping onto his skin. The fine hair on his thighs gives a delicious amount of friction - not too much but not too little. As you go further, your mouth parts a little more, allowing you to let out a strangled whimper. Your thigh brushes Harrison’s cock through his boxers, and you feel his hand grip your waist tighter, almost painfully.

Your pussy starts throbbing, aching for more of him, while your hands rake his back, leaving scratch marks in their wake. Your head falls to the crook of Harrison’s neck as you approach your high, moving your hips more fervently and letting out moans is anticipation. You wonder if Harrison is even able to pay attention to his contract anymore with what you’re doing to him, but that thought is set to rest when you’re right on the edge, but both of his hands grip your hips and move you off his thigh, the skin glistening with your essence. 

For a minute, you think he’ll be angry, make you clean it up, but instead he just kisses you. His lips catch yours more desperately than you could’ve dreamt, immediately biting down on your lower lip, trapped inside his mouth. You let out the loudest moan you could in the moment, but Harrison finds it heavenly, delving his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss while his hands grip your ass. He pulls away, looking at you with those puppy eyes that he knows you can’t resist. 

“Sit on my cock? Just ‘til I finish this section, then I’ll take you as hard as you want.” 

You look sceptical, and Harrison can tell, you know because he kissed you again and moves his hands from your bum to wrap his arms around your whole body and keep you close to him. His lips pressed against your own is enough convincing, so you move your panties aside and accommodate while Harrison takes his boxers off.

When he does, you’re surprised at how big he is, bigger than any of the lads you’ve been with before. Long and substantial, you want to drool just looking at his dick standing proud against his stomach. Nervously, you slide down on him. His girth stretches your every wall and his tip hits new spots until finally you’re balls deep. He groans and exhales, eyes closed while trying to gather his bearings. 

“Fuck.” He says. “Your cunt bottomed out on my cock, keeping me warm and hard, you’re an angel.”

His words drive you crazy, making you moan and involuntarily clench around him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You wrap yourself around him like a koala bear, craving to have as much skin to skin contact as is possible. Your head lays on his chest to stay out of his way, and he seems thankful to be able to see the screen but also feel you. 

You stay seated on Harrison for no more than ten minutes as he taps away at his keyboard and scrolls through the pages. Occasionally he moves, stimulating you enough for you to gasp or tighten around him, and in those instances he kisses behind your ear. 

You listen to his heart, slowing or increasing its speed depending on your movements. The steady heave of his chest moving with his breathing is strangely calming, making you feel closer to him, more stimulated and comforted, something like love.

Suddenly, his laptop slams shut and he thrusts up into you. You yelp a little and snap your head up, nose nudging with his and your lips grazing. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy, and you’ve done it on purpose. Were you sleeping with the others to get my attention? Am I better than them already? Bigger?” You whimper, his words building a fire inside you. “You don’t have to answer, love, I can already tell by your body.”

You cling to him even tighter than before as he clears everything off his desk, breaking a pencil pot while he’s at it, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“You choose a desk to fuck me on when we have two beds up here, both of which will make a lot less noise?” 

He looks downcast and releases a giggle. “Yeah, didn’t think of that.”

“It’s fine,” you say, cupping his jaw and caressing his stubbled cheek, “you can fuck me harder on this and let the boys know who I belong to tonight.”

He places you down beneath him on the desk, still hard inside you, but instead of attacking you again in a ferocious kiss, he looks down at you and marvels in your beauty just for a moment, his scrutiny surprisingly doesn’t phase you, it only makes you feel treasured, so as your eyes follow the movements of his rippling muscles, he smiles faintly and kisses you softly. 

“Fuck me Haz,” you whisper, those simple words being all the motivation needed, because he pulls out, leaving you whining at the emptiness of only his twitching tip inside your core, but within seconds he pushes all the way back in. 

He feels heavenly, your eyes rolling back into your head and a surprised moan leaving your lips. He smiles down at you before pulling out and thrusting back inside you, setting a steady pace. Every move feels like paradise, every jolt of his hips swindling shockwaves of pleasure through your craving body, having been desperate for him for a good while.

He feels heavenly inside you, his tip grazing that special spot inside you. “Harrison!” You cry, as quietly as you can. He leans down and pulls the neck of your (his) shirt down so that he can get access to your breast, immediately latching his lips onto your nipple, biting at it viciously while pressing his hands onto your spread thighs. You feel yourself approaching an edge, a timed coil curling inside your stomach as his ministrations continue. 

He’s so much better than the others - not that they weren’t good, they have a basic idea of what to do with you and how to use you, and they’re decently sized, but they can’t make you feel the way Harrison can. 

“I’m close...” you whisper between incoherent murmurs. He’s not too noisy, which may or may not be a blessing paired with the slamming and squeaking of the desk beneath your bodies, it’s mostly just breathy grunts and occasional curses.

“Me too, beautiful.” He dances his forefinger up your thigh and rubs circles around your wetness, allowing you to let go.

The coil within springs open, and you feel your body fall loose, vision blurring with stars in your eyes and core clenching around Harrison - it feels like heaven. Feeling this, he climaxes soon after you and to save from screaming, kisses you in a messy fight of teeth and tongues, half muffling the pornographic moans that would otherwise be bound to spill.

Harrison falls down onto you, chest heaving and breathless, but nonetheless he still places open mouthed kisses to your neck.

“I’ll wait for you to get your breath, shall I?” You tease while running your finger up and down his spine. He chuckles and climbs fully on top of you, cuddling you into his chest. “Well, now I can see why you don’t have a girlfriend yet. Can’t even go for one round without ending up flustered. Lucky that I’ll have you no matter.”

He hums into you, holding you and savouring the silence filled with only your breathing and a few sounds from downstairs, but soon the wood becomes too uncomfortable.

Harrison slips an arm beneath you and carries you across the room to his unmade bed, as opposed to your neatly tucked in one with your entire collection of clothes and makeup on top of the sheets, but his bed is probably comfier since he’s always in it. 

“Round two?”

Your heart rate increases, a burning blush rising to the tips of your ears as well as a shy smile snaking its way across your lips, still swollen from Harrison’s attack, not to mention the swollen parts of your skin where he paid a little more attention, leaving marks and memories for days to come.

“I’d like to see you try.” You tease, keeping your cool resolve despite feeling anxious straddling him, his eyes flitting between your chest, eyes and lips, unsure of what to do or how to use his mouth, a definite rarity for someone like him.

He seems desperate, putting his hands on your hips and thirstily jolting his hips upwards - if you’d been a few inches further down, he would’ve been straight back inside you, and maybe that’s what he was hoping for.

“Any hole’s a goal, isn’t that what Tom says?” 

He loves it when you tease him, that much you’re learnt over the years. Every girl he’s been with you’ve found a way to tease him about it, anything he says, anything he does, and he loves it since it usually ends in a play fight and him surrendering control of the tv remote to you. This time however, it ends in something far different.

He tugs the shirt up further and pulls you roughly so that your calves are either side of his neck, your once again dripping core hovering above his face and awaiting tongue. 

“Only if it’s yours.” He says, his breath sending shockwaves through your body straight from your core.

His tongue deftly finds its way through your folds and inside your tensing cavern, and it feels heavenly. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue laps up all around you, his lips working in tandem while his tongue dances inside you. The moans leaving your mouth are otherworldly noises that you’ve never quite made before, maybe because you’ve never sat on anyone’s face, never mind someone as experienced as Harrison, something that you’re now learning is far from a bad thing. 

“Harrison!” You cry when he delves a little deeper. His eyes remain between your own and the way your boobs bounce inside his shirt while you squirm on top of him. Every noise the pair of you make masks the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to the attic, and muffle the sound of knocking on the door.

Harrison’s mouth continues its assault on your needy heat, your one hand weaving into his hair while the other massages your breast through your shirt, bringing stimulation to your nipple and bringing your climax closer and closer...

“Haz, we get that you hate work but you really don’t have to make so much noise- OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

You freeze, your recently shut eyes shooting open and darting over to the door, ajar with Tom standing just over the threshold, staring right at the two of you with a face of horror and disgust. Harrison however, bites down on your sensitive nub in his state of shock, and your second orgasm washes over you in such a state of unexpected euphoria that you lose all your bearings. 

You cry out Harrison’s name like a prayer, chanting it while he cleans you up, and it’s not for a solid minute after your climax ends that you realise Tom is still in the room with you, rendered speechless, mouth agape and dumbfounded. 

When you clock what’s happening, you grasp Harrison’s duvet and yank it up to cover you both while you climb off Harrison’s face, his lips still glistening with your cum. He seems lost for words, too, blanching more and more with every passing second. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. No one moves, except for Harrison’s cock twitching under the duvet.

“It’s not what it looks like...” you say, your words getting lost in the thick tension of the room, like a rubber band pulled so tightly that it could snap at any given moment.

“Really? Because it looks like Harrison was just eating you out!”

You can’t fault Tom's logic, it is exactly what it looks like, so you just blush and pull the duvet up to your chin while wishing for a black hole to swallow you up. 

You can’t help but notice how beautiful Harrison looks though, plump lips and that wonderful glint in his eyes, messy hair and no top. 

“Ok, so it’s exactly what it looks like, surprise?” You can’t figure out what to say to him in the current situation, but instantly feel relaxed when Harrison begins to rub his palm up and down your thigh beneath the duvet .

“What- oh, this is why you called?” Sam now makes an appearance, folding his arms and standing next to a resolute Tom. You can’t decipher if he’s angry, amused or something else. “Our plan worked!” He suddenly shouts, and within seconds, Harry arrives beside the pair, a smirk on his lips.

“Really? So shagging Y/N and talking about it in front of me was all a ploy to get us together? And if so, why does Mr Fancy Pants here look so angry?” Harrison asks, and you can feel him willing his boner to wilt while in the presence of the brothers.

“Yes!” Comes paddy’s voice from the doorway, swiftly standing in front of Tom. 

You smirk, but Harrison scowls, unable to accommodate this situation within his mind.

“He’s probably shocked because he walked in on you two... you know. But yeah, it was all a plan, sorry by the way.” Harry says, you just wave it off but Harrison’s grip on your leg tightens.

“Don’t be angry, it worked didn’t it?” Sam chimes in, patting Paddy on the back before making his way out.

Tom has to have the last word, you can see it on the settling lines on his forehead, so you brace yourself closer to Haz. “And don’t I bloody know that it worked!”

Maybe the drama was worth it for the laugh out of Tom’s reaction, though Harrison would argue with you there.

[tutubola-moved-on]

Hi I like music and I kind of go wayyy too deep into the TPN soundtrack and I think it's about time I start throwing my thoughts out there before they spiral too much

Disclaimer!!! This is not a complete analysis at all, just a few thoughts on each of the songs. I'll probably revisit some of them in future parts if I ever do those aha anyways enjoy

(Part 1/?): 63194, Emma's Sorrow, Emma's Determination, 22194, Norman's Lament, The Promise Between Humans and Demons, Jailbreak and Isabella's Lullaby.

(manga spoilers)

I've done a lil smth smth on Main Theme 2 already and its my favourite song like ever aha this is a cry for help

here you go people

but now anyways fr

63194 (Season 1)

Wouldn't have started with this one cuz I'm still figuring it out but it was the first one that came up when I pressed shuffle

Let's just go straight to the point so we can move on. The first time we hear 63194 is in episode 2, when Norman is talking to Ray about their plan in the forest (or, as I like to call it, "boat scene"). It reaches its climax when Norman starts talking about how he'll use himself to ensure the escape plan will work.

And then it's only used again in episode 8, if I'm not mistaken, after Isabella tells them about Norman's shipment, thus foreshadowing him refusing to escape and using his "death" as a tool to help the others escape.

But alsooo the song is Emma's theme, so there's definitely some sort of meaning other than foreshadowing Norman's shipment. That's for later though cuz I'll have to think more. The beginning does sound a lot like Strauss' Metamorphosen, a piece symbolising how German culture was destroyed during WW2. Not sure what to do with that info for now.

If you'd like a little extra stuff, I also tried connecting the pieces to the Doctrine of Affections, a... thing some Baroque composers wrote that connected music keys to feelings. (I found many sources but I used this one).

63194 is in C Minor, which is described as "innocently sad" (although another source said "sweet but sad") and "lovesick." I think innocence really describes Emma, Ray, and Norman in general, as kids who never did anything wrong but were thrown into the wrong world. Innocently sad would be their conversations in boat scene. They're talking about life or death, it's not something kids should have to deal with.

But again, it's hopeful. Norman wants to create a boat made out of mud---he wants to save everyone---and he really believes it'll work. So although sad, it's also sweet. It's a light at the end of the tunnel, and also just an act of kindness. As for "lovesick," that would just describe Ray and Emma's inevitable longing for Norman after he was gone. Which brings us to...

Emma's Sorrow (エマの悲しみ) (Season 1)

The two times I remember Emma's Sorrow played was 1) When they first talked to Don and Gilda about the house and 2) During the infirmary flashback scene.

The Doctrine of Affections describes E Minor as "grief and longing." In the infirmary flashback scene that obviously not only shows how Norman longs for that time when they didn't know anything and everything was light and happy but also, once again, foreshadows Emma eventually having to grieve him.

Especially because they don't play the staccato part (short quick notes) that's in the original version. Instead, the strings are always present. In staccato, the music gets pretty,,, lowkey? because the instruments can't exactly "show off," whereas the legato (long/connected notes) really shows the true importance and impact each individual instrument has on the song. Considering how the strings (specifically the violins) in the soundtrack could symbolise Norman, it's showing how Norman is not just another guy who's in their group and planning the escape, but an actual friend they'll lose and who'll leave a significant emptiness behind. Not only brain power wise, but just.. you know he's a human being and it's gonna hurt either way.

Not only that, but the harmonies itself in Emma's Sorrow once the strings really do come in are really incomplete. Like, the piano part seems to be all over the place, but it comes together because of the strings. Norman was the one who brought Emma and Ray together, in a way, and isn't Emma and Ray clashing exactly what Shirai wanted when he sent Norman away? Yea...

And Emma's Sorrow is, of course, parallel to:

Emma's Determination (エマの決定) (Season 1)

Yea no I'm still gathering thoughts on that one. The ascending bass contrasting the descending bass in Emma's Sorrow is pretty cool, though. It plays when Don is going off about how he wants to be strong after punching Ray and Norman and it's in F# Minor, so "passionate resentment." Connect both and Don really is ready to change the world. He got slapped with this very very bad reality and naturally he's angry and he's sad and he wants to do anything in his power to save people.

But back to Norman.

(hi future me here. oh my god why am i only talking about norman this was not the route this was originally going to take im so sorry i swear there's more to this post than just norman brain rot 22194 is the last norman one)

22194 (Season 1) and Norman's Lament (ノーマンの嘆き) (Season 2)

22194 is in B Minor, so "patience" and "walking towards fate." That's pretty self explanatory considering how he, and I quote, "chose death." Yea. G Minor would be "uneasiness of the future," and once again, pretty self explanatory (The whole Lambda seizures thing and I'm The Only One Who Can Save The Humans Syndrome. Normy worries too much :/)

Comparing both is pretty fun, too. It's the same melody but in different keys and instruments and thus just give off different feelings. While 22194 is full of instruments and harmonies and is clearly structured, Norman's Lament is just. Empty. It's like it's trying to stay true to 22194, so the Norman from before, but at the end of every musical sentence it just drifts off. You can see parts of 22194 in there, but it's not the same. At all.

There's also no harmony. He wants to do everything himself, and discards all his bonds and friends for that. So sad. Stop him.

All that while 22194 is rich and beautiful and oh my god i love that song so much and it's just showing how Norman was a lot more lively and layered and human when he allowed people to come into his life (the harmonies) and listened to those people instead of just locking himself up and doing everything himself.

So in conclusion cuz I ramble a lot, 22194 is about GF Norman, who hadn't gone through all those things that turned him "evil," who trusted his friends and believed everything had a good, ethic solution. Norman's Lament is about Lambda/post-Lambda Norman, who had gone through a whole lot, and was now in a downwards spiral and had left everything behind to become God or whatever, but was also in denial that he had changed in the first place.

does this make sense no idea i'm typing this while sleep deprived and high on bread and i failed english this quarter

but that aside

The Promise Between Humans and Demons (人間と鬼の約束)(Season 2)

I love this song!!!!!! So much!!!!!!!!! I love the percussion, it's used so well. And I love the way the song builds up and adds more and more instruments until it eventually reaches a climax, like the growing tension between the humans and the demons during the war that snowballed and snowballed and eventually caused both sides to resort to the Promise.

And when the song comes down you can hear a very short "first draft" ish version of Isabella's Lullaby.

It's as if yes, all this mess went down and the demons and humans made this huge promise that completely changed the world and affected an entire society but then far far away from the Seven Walls and the Promise and oblivious of the Ratri Clan and the demons were these two tiny tiny children just singing a song and living happily. And those children---and that song---were the foundation for the entire revolution that ended with the Promise. Wow.

And it's in D Major, D Major is "Triumphant." The song itself sounds triumphant, and yes the Promise was gross but it was a nice little hello kitty band aid over the mess that was the world before it.

What was truly triumphant, though, was the kids' escape, which happened to the same melodic theme, albeit in a different key. Which leads me to...

Prison Break (脱獄) (Season 1)

Oh my God. I love this song.

It symbolises the kids breaking ties with Isabella and how many obstacles were in the way (not only was she their mom; their only mom who had cared for them for their entire lives, but she was also their enemy and did everything she could to prevent them from escaping). The second the brass comes in with the theme (around 0:53) it sounds like it's struggling to play it fully. In this case, Isabella, once the singing parts, would have lost her voice after being outwitted by the children (keep in mind the song starts playing after they've already reached the wall). After all, the song starts with a voice that seems to get more and more desperate before it's overrun by instruments, thus losing its power.

So she's trying to control them and get them back, but they won't let her. They're going to break free. So you have the melodic theme playing with significant breaks, until eventually it all goes silent. Why? Because they escaped. Isabella completely lost contact with them, they're free. And then you get the same melodic theme in The Promise Between Humans and Demons.

But the theme isn't played full. It's not played to the extent that they play it in TPBDAH, instead there's a lot of just "blank space" with no melody above it: that's where the children will write their melody---their story; a story independent from the Promise that shaped their lives thus far.

AGH.

I need a break but I'll be back

Isabella's Lullaby (イサベラの唄)

OK OK Continuing on Isabella I love how Sarah Alainn sings like she's crying. I really recommend this if you want to go deep on Isabella's Lullaby, they pretty much said everything I had to say. I don't go on youtube like ever and that might as well be one of my favourite videos LOL anyways

I also really recommend listening to the no vocal/piano solo version, the harmonies are so beautiful. And the more you listen to it the more you hear, there's always something new. The violins especially oh I love the way Takahiro Obata uses violins. Honourable mention to Nat King Ballade (ナットキングバラード) and Each Thought (それぞれの想い) (idk if thats the english name for it,,,, i've seen it as "Their Own Thoughts" too)

WELL THEN. What a ride. I'll go to sleep now. If anything is incoherent or u just wanna talk then send me askies or a dm smth idk aha i like music but i hate grammar :P

[daisidoll]

His Love, Kurapika

I posted this on the archive, and decided to add it here! My user on the archive is dollfaced_damsel. This is just an angsty Kurapika smut that I wrote late at night instead of sleeping, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+

Your house is often lonely. With your lover occupied with his career and self destructive vengeance, it left you many nights at home with only the echoes of your mind to keep you company. As the television lit up the dark corners of your room, it failed to light up the dying spark in your eyes. After being let go from your office position at the Hunter’s Association Headquarters, you relied heavily on your boyfriend to keep you company.

It had been a tasking career, one which deprived you of much of your social life. After leaving your friends in your home country to live with Kurapika, he became your only form of interaction apart from the occasional small talk from your coworkers. It was nice at first, with the intertwining job schedules and the increased motivation to make it work. After a year of waiting, the reality of your decision became clear.

It was a double edged sword.

The feeling of being a new couple outweighed common sense. The sweet dates where your darling Kurapika gave you the most restless butterflies in your tummy. The tingling heat in the apple of your cheeks when he slipped his hand in yours. The tightness of your chest when his fingertips ghosted along the expanse of your stomach with the utter focus of nothing but his love.

He brought you euphoria. Pleasure.

My god it was wonderful.

But paradise can only last for so long. You realized this as you stared at the clock blankly for the umpteenth time that night. 1:19 AM. Kurapika hadn’t come home in days. You tried to empathize with Kurapika and his goals in life, following him blindly and being his biggest supporter no matter what. As long as you had his love, you would do anything for him.

His love.

You jumped up in surprise as the front door clicked open in a silent squeak. You stirred anxiously as you awaited to see a figure in your peripheral. Soft pads of footsteps sounded from the hall. A head of blonde hair stepped from the shadows. Gazing at his face, the dark circles and sluggish movements didn’t go unnoticed. It wasn’t like it was an unusual sight.

He looked up at you, looking mildly surprised to see you sitting on the couch.

“..I’m home.” He stated simply.

“Welcome home, my love.”

You smiled weakly at him, drained. The silence rang throughout the air for a few moments before anyone spoke.

“You’re up late. Were you waiting for me?”

You stood up slowly, placing the soft blanket laying across your lap to the side. Walking over to him with calculated steps, you whispered.

“I always wait for you.”

He let you lead him by the hand towards the bedroom. You wondered how he kept his hands so elegant as a bodyguard for an underground figure.

You’d ask him later.

Opening the door, you stepped into the familiar feeling of comfort given by your room. The moonlight streamed through the tall windows, the curtains pulled back to the side. Muted sounds of the streets below resounded in your ears, along with the gentle tick of the clock on your wall. Too mesmerized by the atmosphere, you failed to notice the noise of the closed door or the approach of the scarlet-eyed hunter. He gently placed his hands on your waist, and placed his body along the curves of your back.

You let out a relaxed exhale as your boyfriend left gentle kisses along the expanse of your neck, fingertips slipping underneath your shirt with practiced movements.

The short sleeved pyjama top fell to the floor soon after. Piece after piece of clothing was lifted off your bodies like clockwork, forgotten among the caresses of exhausted lovers. He lifted you from the ground, laying you on your back in the large bed placed in the middle of the room.

Time did not resume like normal in this rare dance between you. Making eye contact with the moon in the sky outside of your window, you briefly wondered what his somber eyes have seen in his long years of stationary watching. If he gazes upon your being with unbridled pity.

You couldn’t decide whether your next sigh was from the depressing thoughts or the sudden touch against your fluttering vagina.

He lifted your legs over his shoulder as he teased his finger along your labia, gathering as much slick as he could before smoothly dipping his finger inside. Quiet noises of pleasure left your lips as he worked his finger along your velvety inner walls. Staring at you lazily, he arched the pad of his thumb against your waiting clit.

The pressure from your lower body was sending low waves of pleasure from your lower belly to the perk tips of your erect nipples. The pleasant feeling made you lay your head back on the bed, eyelids closed. The sweet sounds of your slick were beginning to sound, and Kurapika acknowledged this as an adequate time to press his middle finger in your greedy hole.

He sped up his fingers with an open mouth kiss to the soft inner skin of your thigh. Your moans echoed throughout the room like an icebreaker as the underlying tension between you was evaporating. Upon angling his fingers, he hit that special bump along your walls that made your toes curl. While calling out his name, he added a third finger, and he exhaled shakily as you sucked his finger in with ease.

The squelching sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your vagina made you want to cover your ears, suddenly enveloped with an inexplicable emotion similar to grief. A hard press against your g-spot instantly dissolved any of those emotions, however, and you cried out in protest as he removed his fingers.

He crawled up from his lying position in between your quivering thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulder once more before pressing the head of his cock against your impatient folds. Upon his gaze at your face, you turned away in embarrassment. He smiled drowsily before tilting your chin up towards him. Forced to look at him, your mouth dropped open as he finally pressed his cock inside you.

After taking an adjusting second to process the intense pleasure, he let out a muted groan and began thrusting inside your waiting pussy. You moaned his name and latched your nails into his back. Rolling your eyes back into your skull, you offhandedly glanced at the clock on your wall. 1:31 AM.

Your breasts bounced as he rocked back and forth, and the bed frame creaked at the motion it rarely experiences. Kurapika’s head dropped in the crook of your shoulder, allowing you to hear his breathy pants against the shell of your ear.

With the changed angle, he pressed into a spot that sent violent shivers along your spine. Just as the stretch against your tight walls began to feel increasingly pleasurable, he let out a loud moan, and stilled.

Your pants were the only noise in the nostalgic atmosphere of your shared bedroom, and the realization of what just happened was beginning to come to you slowly. You stared at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.. I had a long day.” He whispered in the crevice of your neck.

“It’s fine.” You croaked out, and looked at the clock.

1:32 AM.

His now flaccid cock pulled out from the warm, sticky, wetness of your vagina. He rolled over, and let out a soft sigh as he put an arm over his eyes and the other over his torso. You could still hear the muted sounds of cars and the bustling city as your eyes closed in gentle thought.

When was the last time the two of you had genuine, loving sex? When was the last time the two of you had both confided in each other for pleasure, and talked about whatever the hell you wanted as the moonlight casted a kind light across tangled limbs in the sheets? The clock ticked almost mockingly as you turned your head.

“Kurapika?”

Silence. He was already asleep.

Almost not surprised, you gently moved to go clean yourself up in the bathroom. Stepping into the room with nothing but an illuminating night light, you closed the door carefully behind you.

With a muffled sob, your back hit the tiled wall and you fell to the ground.

The dam had finally broken as you silently dry heaved with fat tears running down your face. You only cried harder when the evidence of your previous act began to slowly trickle out from inside of you.

You felt utterly empty. The unobtained orgasm, albeit small, was the final push of negative emotions to cause the breakdown on the cold bathroom floor. As you curled into yourself, violently sobbing into your hands as to not wake your lover in the next room, you wondered.

When was the last time you felt his love?

[1-800-i-ship-it]

khun modern bf headcanons?

Hmm oof i am probably not the best person to be asking this cause I dont write fics or anything but I’ll do my best

So i realized that i just wrote plot stuff but im posting anyway cause i spent way too long on this ahaha 

apologies in advance for typos that I'm too lazy to go through and correct

Enjoy the headcanons that i wrote later + plots that i originally wrote and went on a long tangent on oops

Headcanons:

Khun would be that subtle overprotective boyfriend 

He’d just kinda silently watch from afar but he’d totally kill anybody who hurt bam in any way, shape, or form

But he’d like be SUPER sweet with bam like

Pet names yall PET NAMES like khun and bam would prob both mutually melt when they call each other pet names

Khun would always help bam with hw and whatnot, let’s pretend bam’s a physics genius cause thats just how i imagine him in modern life, always has trouble with law class (he’s  taking it just for khun so he can understand what khun’s talking about) so khun helps him

Khun would be a super smooth talker, can woo a n y b o d y, exceptional at speeches, captain of speech and debate team

Khun would never admit he’s jealous but like the whole gang would know (except for bam who’s clueless as usual) 

Like bam is friendly with everybody so khun’d just be like ugh screw yall 

But then bam always confides in him and spends a crapload amt of time with him so he knows he’s just doubting himself and he’s mad at himself about it cause he knows bam is loyal to a fault and would never betray him

When bam gets older bam uses this against him hehe

Khun would also be that bf that everyones jealous of 

Everyone would want to be with khun but he only has eyes for bam

Ignores everybody else who hits on him

Side note i still stan top!bam and bottom!khun 

Khun would also be super thoughtful and goes out of his way to help make bam’s life easier whether its doing chores or smth etc, and each time bam smiles at him and expresses his gratitude khun’s heart would melt for the 1000th time

But like secretly khun really likes confident and sexy bam

They’d probably roleplay ngl (let ur imagination wonder~)

Khun would enjoy just spending time with bam :’) just cuddling and doing mundane things, they’d be super adorable together, hugs and kisses and ah just too cute-

Khun secretly likes bdsm and bam knows this 😏they switch roles from time to time, i cant decide who’s sub/dom

Khun would plan a super elaborate proposal to bam but then somehow bam would catch him off guard and then khun would just blurt it out when they’re together <3

Khun’d always be up early to cook for bam, they both morning ppl tho khun’s always sleep deprived bc hes also a night owl 

Khun is shy with pda in public but eventually he and bam decide they dont care anymore and just hold hands and act all lovey dovey to the point where shibisu cant decide if he’s a proud dad or if he wants to throw up, rak is always proud of his turtles, endorsi and hatz literally want to throw up all the time and would die before admitting that they secretly approve of khunbam

Khun is all around a model bf that i am sure half the fandom would be willing to date but im sorry guys khun’s taken cause he’s only got eyes for bam~

Plot things/idk what they’re called:

CEO!khun and intern!bam

Assassin!khun and assassin!bam who eventually get together and destroy the corrupt system

Gdi i thought of so many while having dinner but i forgot

Hmmmm

Imagine bam as jue viole grace like forced to work in a gang or smth and then khun as the gang boss 

I totally dont have a thing for badass assassin themed things pls dont judge me

Teacher!khun and student!bam (ofc it’d be near graduation if u get my drift...😏)

Idk why i thought of this but imagine idol khun o.o wait YO idol khun + assistant bam

Tutor!khun and student!bam 

I feel like im literally just saying the same ideas

Theres a reason why im not a fic writer :’)

High school sweethearts -> angst bc parents dont approve, sad forced breakup, no contact -> get back together when older after a time-lapse when they’re more mature, heated reunion 

Best friends bam and khun since preschool, since they were in the womb, PINING, both of them scared to admit it cause they dont want to ruin their friendship, meanwhile the entire gang is betting on them getting together (aka mainly rak and shibisu betting, hatz, endorsi, anaak, (insert s2 and s3 gang dont wanna spoil) everybody etc)

Uni students with khun as a law major and bam as a cs major (both geniuses, nerd bam), roommates *insert smirk* lots of pining, blushes from them casually changing in front of each other...the rest is up to ur imagination

Khun and bam as rival sports teams coaches 

Age gap!khunbam (not a lot, somewhere between 5-8 yrs), with bam as the younger one who kept saying that he loves khun but khun just laughs it off bc bams a kid but then khun sees bam after he comes back from college and bam gets a massive glowup from clueless cinnamon roll to clueless cinnamon roll hottie who only has the hots for khun (still) and then khuns all like “fuck” *dies inside*

Single dad khun, bam as a daycare employee who keeps getting flustered by khun, khun takes interest in bam bc he doesn’t ask nosy questions like other ppl, and bam has these mesmerizing golden eyes

Tailor/dry cleaner owner!bam and office worker!khun who constantly needs his clothes to be altered so they fit exactly how he wants them to (this eventually results in awkward moments and blushing), and also dry cleans like his countless number of suits and dress shirts and whatnot

Author!khun and publishing assistant!bam (is it even called publishing assistant honestly i have no idea but u get what i mean right), khun never signs books but bam convinces him to 

Poet!khun and uni student!bam as a literature major who’s a big fan and wanted to meet khun at one of his signings but is too shy even though shibisu drags him there, accidentally bumps into khun in the bathroom, is all flustered, ends up talking to khun for super long, khun loves bam’s enthusiasm for the subject, offers to give feedback on bam’s poems, bam is literally about to combust, they have lots of meetings and khun flirts with bam who’s clueless but blushes a lot anyway, they kiss *ahem* the rest is history

Spy!khun and bam, khun realizing he doesn’t want to hurt bam, sends fake info back to his country (ruled by eduan and jahad), eduan finds out (sent khun out in the first place bc khun was a threat to him cause the ppl liked khun better), sends out an assassin to get khun, who knows this and escapes with bam somewhere, some complicated plot taht idk how to figure out but you get the drift, eventually khun rules the country with bam

Real estate agent khun and contractor bam, eventually start their own business together

Khun as student pres, also known as the ice king bc he’s turned down dating everyone who asked, bam as the transfer student who catches his attention  (bam with more of a jue viole grace complex), the silent physics genius who is also on par with khun when debating in speech and debate club 

Khun and bam as besties, always do their hw together and hang out after class (cause bam always needs help haha), something leads to them fake dating, eventually real dating 😏

Khun and bam as besties, always do their hw together and hang out after class (cause bam always needs help haha), someone (rachel, DO NOT KILL ME I HAVE A REASON) asks bam out and he doesn't know how to say no (the rest of the gang egging him to date cause they know khuns gonna be jelly) khun goes and sulks, eventually bam gets hurt and manipulated by her, khun is pissed off, rachel is reported for abuse, khun and the gang fight for bam, khun is there for bam all the time, after a while bam asks khun out of the blue if khun likes him (shibisu let it slip that khun is gay bc god knows bam is oblivious af), khun is shocked but says yes bc he cant hide it anymore, bam says he always loved khun but thought khun was straight (bc of some dumb rumor someone said) which was why he ignored his feelings and agreed to date rachel bc he just wanted to distract himself, lots of cuddling thereafter, they get together, rak wins the bet for when khunbam will get together, khunbam gets married

oh man that became way longer than i expected...anon i hope u enjoyed that? half of it prob made 0 sense ngl and idek if i answered the q properly?

kudos to you if you actually read like all my rambling :’)

[fernandidilly-yo]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by: my lovely friend Rays! @under-the-shady-tree (Thank you for tagging me, this was fun!)

Name(s): Fern/Fernando

Fandom(s): You all know I jump from fandom to fandom, where ever my hypefixation takes me. But I am currently on a Umbrella Academy kick (as I’m sure you’ve all noticed) 

Where you post: I still post on FF.net cause certain fandoms are still pretty active there. But I really prefer Ao3.

Most Popular One Shot (by kudos): Oh, bet I can guess this one... ‘What Has Been Seen, Cannot Be Undone’, yup, a oneshot I wrote over the span of three days in-between my treatments down at the clinic...what a wild ride of sleep deprivation. 

Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos): And we can all guess this one, I’m sure it’s the reason half of you followed me in the first place *drum roll* ‘Reintroducing Hope’, the first fanfiction I ever wrote. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart, though I can’t reread it without cringing at my old writing. ;P

Favorite story you’ve written so far: Hmm. I think I’d have to go with ‘Worlds Apart’, I think that story is where I really started growing as a writer. I put a lot of love and work into that fic. It is a purely self indulgent story and one I wrote more for myself rather than others, but I’m so happy that other people enjoy it and that I still get traffic and new people looking at it even though I haven’t updated in a while. (I do plan to finish that story, I love it very much)

Fic you were nervous to post: Um, all of them!? There’s always at least a little bit of nervous excitement, I think. But ‘Play Pretend’ I remember being pretty nervous about. The fact that it’s a gender-bent story almost made me not want to write it, because I usually avoid those fics- so to write one felt weird, and I didn’t think people would read it once they saw the summary. But so many of you did! And I’m really glad I did write it, that fic was such a blast to write, and I honestly love that story. 

How do you choose your titles?: Honestly? My titles are normally one of the first things I think of. I know that’s odd, but while the fic is forming in my head, (just an idea and not even on paper yet) usually a name will pop up into my brain and not only does that spurs me on to actually write it, but 99% of the time that is the name that I stick with. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Do you outline?: Yes, definitely. I’m not sure that my notes would be coherent to anyone but myself. But while writing a big story my doc is filled with random notes, snippets of dialogue, and half formed scenes that I want to write. (Also my desk gets covered in post-its) It’s organized chaos, and I make sense of it as I go. ;D

Complete: Twenty-four! Five multi-chapter and nineteen oneshots. 

In-Progress: ‘Worlds Apart’, of course, which I will be updating and finishing...eventually...‘In Need of Assistance’, though each chapter can be read as a oneshot, I do surprising have some background plot that will eventually lead to its finish. And! My latest story ‘Time in a Bottle�� which is my main focus right now, and has been just, really fun to write and share with you guys. <3 

Coming soon/not yet started: Good lord, where do I even start with this one. I have a bunch of half-written fics collecting dust in my folders, so there are those. There are also a few atla fics I have half written, which will be monster multi-chapters. I’ve been in that fandom since I was a kid, so I’d love to jump in with some of my own stories now that the fandom is so alive again. ;P 

Prompts?: Nope, can’t. My brain likes to run with its own ideas. If I ever take a prompt I usually subvert and go so far off into another direction that it doesn’t even resemble the prompt anymore. 

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: I actually have a very big project I’m excited about, but I’m keeping that secret until I can post it! For right now, ‘Time in a Bottle’ has been a joy to write, and the reaction it’s gotten so far has been amazing. I’ve felt out of sorts with my writing for about two years now, and this story has sparked something back in me, and I’m having a lot of fun with it. So I’m really excited to finish that and to get to some of the upcoming chapters.

I have babbled enough! Here are the people I will tag- @sparkstar-trash @beguilewritesstuff @goldkirk @captainkirkk no pressure to join in. But I will say, thinking about some of these stories did leave me feeling nostalgic, it was fun. 

[ultrahamilham]

I aspire to be that old lady when I grow up 😌

And that's good to hear; you're my best friend now, deal with it ;-;

My test went good, with your blessing 🥺🥺

I LOVE your weird ideas and yes, you have a shy anon and indeed we are the sweetest of beans. sometimes I start typing out a message then I chicken out because I am a chicken ;-;

I'm happy to hear it when people take breaks! I feel like we all need one every once in a while! That's also crazy cause it is like 10am here (Indian Standard time) and time zones suck! Just saying. SNOWPIERCER. I've heard so much about that!! How is it? (if I talk too much please just ignore me okay thanks)

Ahh, I'm pre-med! I'm not really going to school, the tests are conducted online because my state has the highest infection rate in the country and over here we're still in complete lockdown and it's scary, but I'm staying safe for the sake of my family! Thank you so much for asking ;-; ;-;

My day has been... messy. I have an awful sleep schedule so I woke up at two am, I wrote replies to my rp partners (poor guys, dealing with my sleep deprived self) and then I fell asleep, woke up at five and studied for the test and I'm finally getting free! The test was really simple and (I'm taking the talk on for hours thing to heart, apparently) and you can post anything you want because being anon gives me a false sense of confidence so I can say the most insane things! Like... I think your hair is mega cool! HA. I could never say that out of anon! Yay!

You are loved and important 🥺🥺 and your mom 🥺🥺🥺🥺 omg🥺🥺 please don't bug her about someone as lowly as myself 🥺🥺🥺 I am but 🥺🥺🥺 a shy anon who doesn't deserve her approval 🥺🥺🥺

You can go on for hours about her! She is so incredibly talented! I only ship mainly Jamilton (They are my life) but BOY I still love everything she draws! Her art style is so unique and she's an amazing person, from what I've seen! Your love for her is more than justified and I'm SO happy both of you have each other 🥺

You physically cannot bug me, I love people just so frickin much and I would love to hear about all of that!

I hope you have a good night and the sweetest of dreams ;-;

-Shy anon (even if you know it's me at this point ;-;)

Long answer under the break, oops lmao

Horray for best friends! I’m alright with it, I will embrace it! Also I’m do glad your test went well, that’s great! Congrats <3 I knew you would do well!

You are absolutely adorable. That’s how I was when I first started to talk to Henni actually. It took a lot for me to talk to her. We started off as fans of one another then I made like a really emo freaking post on tumblr and she spoke to me and then we just... Clicked lmao

I like NEVER take breaks so it’s amazing that I chose to lmao I’m bad at self care when it comes to taking breaks. Oops... Also the show is amazing! You see a lot of naked Daveed and I can’t complain. The actual story is really interesting! It could be better of course, and it’s plot points are very obvious from the beginning but the acting makes it work out! Also no, I will not ignore you. I can GUARANTEE you can’t out talk me. My nickname used to be motor mouth so...

Oh my gosh! You must be really smart to be in pre-med! I did a program that required some basic medical courses but that’s about it. I know the basics, but I don’t have the stomach to learn more. I can barely look at a cut let alone help someone who needs stitches hahaha! Though I’m glad you’re doing it from online. I know it’s scary but things will be okay! It sucks that you have a lot of cases and that you have to be in quarantine. Here in Ontario Canada we are talking about another quarantine and it’s pretty scary, but I think it’s needed. If we can all do our part we can get through this! Things will be okay <3

I hear you about the messed up sleep, I only slept for 3 hours and I’m about to reply to my rps with Henni then watch more snowpearcer and survive off of coffee and pure spite hahah! Also thank you for that complement to my hair ;-; it’s about to go green when the dye comes in the mail! I will have to trim it again, but that’s fine! I did the style mostly myself and I maintain it now with shaving the sides and back, plus layering it every few months! It’s cheaper that way lol I’m glad you feel okay enough to express yourself!

Trust me, she wants me to. I won’t get into specifics, but she told me to talk her ear off about whatever I want. She wasn’t the best person growing up. She abused us all and when I came out as trans she told me to kill myself. She has since come around and is getting help for her mental issues that made her that way, but it’s a slow process. One way that she wants to make it up to us is for us to say whatever we want to her. I can talk about gay men fucking if I really wanted to, so I tell her all the plots to my jamilton fics and she actually thinks they’re great, which is a shocker to me. She’s a whole different person!

I have had the pleasure to watch her grow. I joined the zosan fandom around the time she did and I saw her art evolve and it’s amazing to me. I still have works from way back then and I still love them! She is such a talented person and I am SO lucky.

I love Jamilton, if you haven’t noticed lmao though I am a multishipper of course. Jamilton is higher on the list than some of my other ships of course hahahah

Well then we can agree to talk each other’s ears off! Because there is no way I can shut up now hahahahah!

I hope your day has been good and you’re getting some sleep!

Have a good day, my dear shy anon <3

[welllpthisishappening]

According to Sources

Yesterday @optomisticgirl told me she heard about a KHL player who was a coach, but his team had a ton of injuries and there were reports that he was going to play again. We were both, like, huh, that’s very Blue Line-esque and being an adult is very stressful challenge, so to combat that, I wrote nearly four thousand words of exceptionally fluffy hockey dad Killian who loves his kids a lot and doesn’t really want to play in the NHL anymore. Also shout out to @shireness-says keeps reading all my words even when I’m like “I don’t know if I’m ever going to post this.”

-----

He kept mumbling under his breath. 

He knew it. He could hear himself. 

He needed to stop doing that. Partially because every quiet question ensured that Peggy’s chin dug further into his chest when she tilted her head up and partially because Killian was fairly certain talking to himself was very likely a sign of impending insanity. 

And yet. 

He couldn’t understand how this one kid actually moved up the ice, a skating style that wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before and maybe that just meant he was old. 

Or tired. 

Neither one were very appealing options. 

He was very tired. 

Every inch of him felt exceptionally heavy, as if his muscles were hanging off the bones instead of what they were supposed to be doing. His mind absolutely could not process the idea of anything muscle related at the moment, could barely stay focused on the video in front of him. His phone buzzed. 

Again. 

Incessantly. 

Killian restarted the video. 

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered, slumping further into the chair in his office. His left knee objected to that somehow, stretched out awkwardly across most of his desk and the vaguely impatient hand he waved over his shoulder when he heard the footsteps approaching his open door was more movement than he was entirely prepared for. 

That couldn’t have been good for his shoulder. 

Peggy looked up at him again — a chin that was starting to feel like it was actually made of marble and definitely leaving bruises on Killian’s chest. He curled an arm around her, trying to keep her in place, but that was like trying to understand how this kid from Sweden moved and that appeared to be absolutely impossible. 

So. 

“You’ve got to stop squirming, little love,” Killian said, cheek falling to the top of Peggy’s hair. That didn’t help either. He hadn’t expected it to. 

“What’s he doing?”

“Who?”

Her knee joined the fray, clamoring up so she could sit straighter and the footsteps had very quickly turned into a voice that was also a laugh and Killian did not have enough hands to flip Robin off. That was disappointing. 

“We’re bringing up a new kid,” Killian explained, Peggy’s eyes narrowing while she watched the film intently. Maybe his heart was just going to explode. 

“Because of so many bad things?”

He hummed, tugging her closer to his chest in a misplaced effort to avoid being kicked in the spleen. It didn’t work. And he wasn’t really entirely sure where his spleen even was. “Exactly. Because people like to hit each other—“

“—But the hitting is fun!”

“Oh, God, you’ve created a monster, Cap,” Robin laughed. 

“Shut up,” Killian snapped, swinging his legs off the desk in an attempt to look more paternal. That probably didn’t work either. Henry was supposed to drop Matt off soon. “Not all hits are good, Peggy. Sometimes the hits hurt and then the guys can’t play.”

Peggy scrunched her nose, thoughts playing out clearly on her face as she did her best to grapple with the idea of injuries and a Rangers roster that was forced to call up an 18-year-old kid with ridiculous skating abilities because they could barely field four lines at this point. 

“So,” Killian continued, “sometimes the hits hurt and then—“

“—They have to go see, Red!”

“You’re a genius, you know that?”

She giggled, burrowing her head into Killian’s shoulder when he peppered her face with kisses. And Robin was moving into the office now. “Will he score lots?” Peggy asked, the words barely that when she kept laughing. 

Killian’s spleen was a lost cause. 

He tossed the tablet back onto his desk. 

“We can only hope,” Robin said, eyes flashing Killian’s direction with something that felt like impending doom. That was very dramatic. 

He hadn’t slept through the night in far too long. 

Chris appeared to be nocturnal. 

“Bonus points if you can say his name,” Robin continued. He pushed the still-playing tablet closer to Peggy, her expression shifting into something that could only be described as Emma-like determination when she looked at the letters on the screen. 

Killian sighed. “Why are you here?”

Robin made a face, a shrug and head tilt and it really was far too many bodily movements at once. Something was going on. Killian hooked his chin over Peggy’s shoulder. 

Her hair got in his mouth. 

“Jarn—“ She grit her teeth when the rest of the syllables got lost in, quite literal translation, and some of Killian’s muscles settled. Rewrapped, or whatever. 

He kissed the top of Peggy’s head. 

“It was very close. You’ve got to kind of get the emphasis on that a, though.”

“Jaaaaarn-karock.”

Robin clicked his tongue. “Closer. You’re adding extra syllables.”

“Krok.”

“Getting there.” He hummed when Peggy kept enunciating vowels that weren’t actually in the name, digging the toe of his shoe into the carpet Killian only kind of hated. Emma despised it. Vocally. Since he’d taken the job. “And, the new kid does something ridiculous with the back of his skates, I can’t figure it out.”

“Oh, that’s what it is,” Killian nodded. “How does he get any power if he’s not pushing off?”

“The future is now or something.”

“Maybe you’re the one who’s sleep deprived, what—“

“—Ok you have to promise not to check me in front of your kid.”

“What?”

Robin held both hands up, widening his eyes. “Right now. Because this is—I have to talk about stuff on TV and you were just waxing poetic—“

“—Who was waxing anything? What are you saying?”

“You’re not making this any easier, Cap.”

“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about,” Killian admitted, shifting in the chair again and maybe Emma had been right for several decades. The seating arrangements in these offices were bordering very close to torturous. 

He was going to have to talk to Ariel about the state of his spine. 

It shouldn’t have kept popping like that. 

“You see a paper today?”

Killian shook his head slowly. That only led to more hair in his mouth. “Just move your leg a little,” he murmured, glaring at Robin when he made another noise. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? You look like you’ve seen several ghosts.”

“Nah, just—ah, damn.”

The latest round of footsteps was closer to a dead sprint than anything else, heavy footfalls and something else that was the undeniable sound of an equipment bag being dragged down the hallway. 

Killian’s eyebrows lowered. He’d started breathing through his mouth at some point. 

“Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad,” Matt chanted, barely slowing down when he all but threw himself through the doorway. Robin leaned forward before he could actually crash into the far wall, curling an arm around Matt’s waist and the equipment bag had apparently been forgotten in a very loud string of the same word screwed over and over. 

Henry squeezed one eye shut when he leaned against the doorframe. “I refuse to take responsibility for this.”

Killian genuinely could not move his eyebrows anymore. 

“This is not my fault either,” Robin promised. Peggy had started watching other training videos on the tablet. 

And Matt was still talking a mile a minute — Killian straining to make out the words like he was trying to translate Swedish again and—

“Dad, Dad, Dad,” Matt continued. He spun on the balls of his feet, barely keeping his balance, an even more impressive feat considering where Robin’s arm still was and—“Is it true?”

“What?”

“Are you going to play again?”

Killian was glad Peggy was holding the tablet. He absolutely would have dropped it. 

Henry squeezed the other eye closed. 

Like he didn’t want to watch the fallout. 

Which was a very good word for it, honestly, because Killian’s stomach felt like it had dropped out of his body entirely, those same muscles that had already been through some sort of metaphorical and exhausted wringer, drooping even more, threatening to yank him through the floor. 

That would have been better, probably. 

He’d never seen Matt’s eyes that wide. 

“Not my fault,” Robin repeated, soft and a little imploring. “Let’s just—we’ll blame the New York media. Like, as a whole.”

Henry nodded in approval. “That seems reasonable. Also, uh, Matt’s team was just—“

“—Just what, exactly?” Killian asked sharply, a quick shake of his head when Peggy tensed. “Not you, little love. What do you think about the kid’s stick handling?”

“He moves really quick. Good wrists.”

He grinned, only a little forced considering the location of his stomach, but Matt was still as wide-eyed as ever, breathing heavily with the almost audible force of his want. 

“Is that Järnkrok?” Matt asked, near-perfect pronunciation that wasn’t all that surprising. He probably understood how the kid got power off the back of his skates. 

Killian nodded. “Coming up for the Canadian swing.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Matt clicked his teeth — his own nose scrunch that was only a little off-putting because it looked so much like Emma, but then his right hand moved and immediately found the back of his hair and Killian couldn’t glare at Robin and Henry at the same time.

Will was going to be very disappointed he’d missed this. 

“Because everyone’s hurt?”

“Yuh huh,” Killian said. He picked Robin to glare at. Mostly because, even in his absolutely exhausted state, he was starting to figure out what was happening and Ruby was going to be furious. 

“And you’re not—“

“—No, kid.”

“But Uncle Robin said that—“

“—Matt,” Killian interrupted, glad that his stomach had already dropped. The force of his kid’s sigh was enough to make him actually wince. “That’s—ok, Locksley what did you say?”

Robin groaned. “Can I see the tablet, Pegs?”

That worked about as well as Killian expected it to — cries of frustration and disappointment that she couldn’t keep watching film, which was just…a lot for him to cope with at the moment, particularly when it looked like Matt was actually bent in half and—

“Here,” Henry muttered, holding his phone out and the video was already playing. It was very loud. 

Or so it seemed. 

God, he was tired. 

And with another Rangers player expected to miss time when the Blueshirts head north this weekend, there’s been some discussion about who the team will call on to fill holes. Teenage sensation Elias Järnkrok is expected to get his official call-up from Hartford, but I don’t think we can assume that an 18-year-old will be able to jump into top-line minutes. With that in mind, there have been some reports that front office may turn to a familiar face and recent retiree who could add some experience to the Rangers roster while they try to maintain their hold on a Wild Card spot and…

Killian didn’t hear the rest. 

He didn’t want to hear the rest. 

Matt was barely standing up anymore. 

“No, kid,” he said again, voice hardly that. His throat might have been collapsing too. “That’s—“

“—But you could,” Matt cried. “You could, Dad! You’d—you’d be able to skate and play and—“

“—Did I apologize for this at some point?” Robin muttered. 

Killian rolled his eyes. “What reports were you talking about?”

“Couple of tabs. That one guy at The Daily News seems to think he’s got sources.”

“Are you not a source?”

“People are talking, Cap,” Robin shrugged. “It’s—well, you know, Matt’s not the only one who thinks you could do it.”

“I’d have to sign by the deadline. That’s like…in three weeks.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“I have a kid who won’t sleep at home.”

“Also true.”

“And, I—“ Killian huffed, not quite disappointment because he couldn’t have really asked for a better end than another Stanley Cup and his kids on his parade float and—his lips had gone very dry. Probably from breathing through his mouth. “Mattie,” he continued, not surprised when the shoulders got even lower. At least his stomach would have company on the floor. “You know I’m not going to play again, right?”

Matt didn’t respond, but he shook his head slowly and that was, somehow, ten-thousand times worse. 

“I can’t, kid.”

Henry sounded like he winced. 

Killian couldn’t bring himself to look back. 

“It’s—“ He took another deep breath, only to let it out almost immediately and Peggy didn’t move. Small miracles. “Ok, come here.”

Nothing. 

“Matthew.”

That got a disgruntled noise and pointed scowl, Henry’s laugh muffled slightly when he presumably covered his mouth with his hand. Matt barely lifted his feet when he walked forward. 

“Ok,” Killian started, bending his neck awkwardly to try and stay in the eye line of a nine-year-old who looked like the world as he knew it was ending. “I know you think I could play again and I—that’s pretty fantastic, honestly. But I don’t want to.”

Matt’s eyes bugged. “What? Dad, are you serious?”

Killian hummed, glancing Robin’s direction and he hadn’t been a rookie in a very long time, hadn’t skated in, at least two weeks, but the expression on his friend’s face was reminiscent of both, something like pride and understanding and knowing when to walk away. 

Kind of. 

He had more film to watch. 

And his kid’s practice to dissect. Matt liked to report back. Regularly. 

“I played for a really long time,” Killian continued. “And it was good. Great. The—the absolute best, you know that, right?”

Matt shrugged. 

“It’s like watching the same person in two different spots,” Henry chuckled, clicking his tongue when Robin sighed. 

“But you don’t want to play anymore?” Matt asked softly. “Dad, I don’t—“

“—I know that doesn’t make any sense to you. And it wouldn’t have made any sense to me when I was your age either. But now I—I did everything I wanted to do, kid. All of it and then some, and you and your sister got to see it, so it’s different now.”

“Why?”

Killian’s laugh was part sigh, not quite frustrated, but more understanding because it was a bit like two versions of the same person. He had to shift Peggy’s weight to lean forward, tugging on the team-branded t-shirt Matt had on. “Things can’t be the same forever. They shouldn’t be. Other people have to play. The team’s got to—“

“—Oh, say it’s got to grow,” Robin laughed. 

“I didn’t ever actually accept your apology for this. And how did—Matt, how did you find out?”

Matt blushed. “I, uh—one of the kids saw it before the game last night and he asked and I—“

“—There’s a rather large support group for your imminent return to the ice,” Henry finished. 

That noise was more frustrated anything else. 

Matt’s cheeks got redder. 

“I just—“ he started, rocking his weight between his feet like he was getting ready for puck drop. 

“I know,” Killian said. “I do. But it’s not going to happen, kid. For several reasons. Mostly that no one has actually asked me yet, so The Daily News should probably check its sources. And also because I—I will literally fall over on the ice if I try and skate that long and then I’ll never hear the end of it from Uncle Will.”

“He’s probably all those text messages you’re ignoring,” Robin added. 

“I had film to watch.”

“And a kid to distract so Emma could get some sleep.”

“That too.”

“You’re very gallant, Cap.”

Killian made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat, turning his attention back to a suspiciously silent Matt, still shuffling back and forth with extra emotion and energy and—“The only hockey playing I am interested in talking about is this kid from Sweden that you apparently know a lot about—“

“—He’s really good, Dad. That’s just…everyone knows that.“

“—And how that juke move we practiced last week worked out.”

Matt froze. Killian grinned. 

His stomach felt like it flew back into his body. 

“You score?” 

“Dad.”

“Not an answer.”

“Three times that I saw,” Henry muttered, and Killian didn’t have to turn that time either. The force of his smile probably did damage to the paint or something. 

“I scored twice before you got there,” Matt grumbled. 

Robin threw his whole back when he laughed, Henry’s soft chuckle echoing between Killian’s ears and his lack-of-sleep addled mind and Peggy did not appreciate when he all but lunged forward. His arm wrapped around Matt’s shoulders, pulling him forward as well. 

“You make the defender fall over?”

The top of Matt’s hair bumped Killian’s left ribs when he nodded. “And got both goalies to go the wrong direction.”

“Quick wrists?”

“Dad.”

“Right, right, that’s insulting to the reputation of your wrists.”

Matt sneered — and his nose was probably going to get stuck like that, eyes hardly more than absurdly competitive slits when Killian crouched in front of him. His right knee cracked. 

Ariel was going to be insufferable. 

And even the idea of getting back on the ice was almost comical at that point, but he hadn’t been lying — he had no interest in skating or scoring or doing anything except discussing the state of his nine-year-old’s exceptionally quick wrists and—

“I could score on MD,” Peggy said, one of her feet balancing on Killian’s thigh. Her arms had gone very tight around his neck. 

“No, you could not, Mar! That’s not—“

“—Ok, ok,” Killian shouted. Robin hadn’t stopped laughing yet. “What are you doing right now?”

“Probably telling Scarlet to meet us on the ice, yeah?”

“Yeah, that.”

Any sense of lingering disappointment seemed to almost melt off Matt, shoulders rolling back and spine straightening and Killian knew he probably shouldn’t have congratulated himself for either of those things. And yet. Again. 

“We’ll make Uncle Robin stand in goal, huh?” he asked, another tug to Matt’s shirt before the kid was halfway to the door and the discarded equipment bag. 

“Ah, c’mon, Cap, seriously?”

“Get better sources. Journalism one-oh-one.”

“He’s not a journalist,” Will said, draped over Henry’s body and his hair was still damp from his post-practice shower. 

“Did you teleport here?”

“You were ignoring me.”

“That’s not threatening at all.”

Will stuck his tongue out, stepping to his right so he could bend his knees, bracing for impact as soon as Peggy launched herself at his chest. He grunted anyway. “Didn’t I see you like—four hours ago?”

“Uncle Will, Uncle Will, Uncle Will, I’m going to score on MD!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she yelled. Directly in his ear.

“Cap, we’ve got to work on this kid’s diction. And, uh—did we talk about it yet?”

Killian nodded. “How many of your text messages were just gifs of various people laughing?”

“A few animals too.”

“Right.”

“You’re old. Plus,” Will added, hiking Peggy up his side and jerking his head back when what sounded like several sticks were pulled out of Matt’s bag, “the future belongs to the youth or whatever, right?”

“Something like that,” Robin mumbled. He sighed once, resigning himself to being pelted with softly hit hockey pucks for the next forty-two minutes. At least. “Alright, let’s go help the legend of the wrister grow.”

Matt scored almost every time he took a shot — and the few times that he missed only inspired more practice, a streak of determination that was like watching a memory and something else Killian couldn’t quite wrap his head around. Mostly because it was far too similar. 

To him. 

And a game that wasn’t entirely his anymore, but might have been theirs and that was better than he thought it ever could have been. 

The apartment lights were dim when they walked back in, hours later, with Peggy half asleep in his arms and Matt dragging the equipment bag behind him. “Hey,” Killian hissed, a quick shake of his head and that one, very specific glare that almost always worked. 

Matt sighed. And grunted when he trudged down the hall, the bag bumping on the wall twice and the side of his door once and for, approximately, fourteen seconds Killian was sure it was going to be fine, precious silence stretching out in front of him and Peggy’s quiet breathing in his ear, but then—

The kid did have very impressive lungs. 

“What is that?” Peggy mumbled into the side of Killian’s neck. “It’s loud.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of how it works. C’mon, let’s—“

“—Too late,” Emma announced, moving into the living room with a squirming and crying Chris. “It was a valiant attempt to get him to lift the equipment bag.” She dropped into the corner of the couch, Peggy’s annoyance at the overall volume of her younger brother increasing with every passing second. Emma closed her eyes. “So, like…on a scale of one to complete meltdown how bad was it?”

Killian blinked. “Are you a mind reader?”

“Ruby’s really annoyed with that guy.”

“Ah, that makes more sense.”

“I feel like I should be offended by that.”

“Nah,” Killian objected, all but falling down next to her and his muscles felt more like they were supposed to now, but he was also impossibly sore and, somehow, even more tired. Emma’s head fell on his shoulder almost immediately. “And, uh—it wasn’t that bad.”

“No?”

“No. Easy to dispute totally unfounded rumors.”

“Check that vocabulary.”

“Peggy was very close to pronouncing Swedish last names, so I’ve got to step my game up.”

“You’re funny.”

“Delirious, maybe,” Killian amended, and Emma’s arm bumped his when she laughed. Chris quieted for a moment, but he didn’t actually stop moving and maybe Killian could close his eyes too. 

Just for a moment. 

“That too. You’re sure, though?”

“Swan.”

“Im serious, I—“ She didn’t lift her head, probably didn’t open her own eyes, but Killian heard the question for what it was — double checking and making sure and his heart expanded enough that he was briefly worried for his ribs. 

“No, love. I barely even moved today and I feel several thousand years older.”

“You score?”

“That was more insulting.”

She scoffed, nosing at the curve of his shoulder. “Who’d you get in net?”

“Locksley.”

“Ah, serves him right.”

“That’s totally true,” Killian agreed, shifting a little bit and that made it easier to kiss Emma’s temple and—he genuinely did not remember falling asleep. Strictly speaking, it was a little irresponsible, a tangle of limbs on the couch and another kid who really needed to take his dirty clothes out of his equipment bag, but then Killian’s eyes were fluttering open and that same kid was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, leaning back against the couch with the TV on. 

Watching film. 

Killian’s smile tugged at the muscles in his face, more absurd biological thoughts. Matt didn’t turn around. He looked very focused, head at an angle and arms moving every few seconds, quick twists of his wrists and a bend to his elbow that was as familiar as anything else. 

And it took a moment to realize. 

He’d blame the sleep thing. 

Killian wondered if he was maybe still asleep. 

Because the film wasn’t new, was several decades old and the jersey he was wearing wasn’t Blue. It was maroon. And gold. 

Matt was mumbling under his breath, trying to mimic Killian’s college-age self and a goal that won a national championship. 

He considered saying something — maybe even suggesting a few goals that were a bit better or more fundamentally sound, but the erratic sound of his own heart thudding in his chest made it impossible and he was far too comfortable anyway. He didn’t want to wake Emma up. 

So Killian took a deep breath and let his eyes flutter shut again, certain he’d see that move on the ice sooner rather than later anyway. 

[otomebois-bb]

Sunflower🌻

(Saeran Choi & MC)

Quick note: originally, I wrote this with the song Sunflower (by Post Malone) in mind, but then I looked up the meaning of sunflowers and decided to go with that instead. I put the meaning of the flower in bold. It starts off as angst, and ends as fluff. Enjoy!

*Spoilers: slight spoiler(s) about Ray's route in the very beginning*

~~~~

"You're useless."

"You can easily be replaced."

"You're just a toy."

"Once you leave this place, I'll be much happier."

His cruel words circulated through my mind like poisonous venom seeping into my veins, slowly eating away at my sanity. I stood by the window, longingly staring at the full moon and wishing that my confidence still shined as bright as it did — yet, the longer I was here, the longer I endured nasty words being thrown at me, the more I wilted, like a flower deprived of sunlight and water.

My stomach grumbled hungrily, and I sighed, turning my gaze to the door of my room. When Ray disappeared, Saeran refused to let anyone but himself enter, refused to let me leave the room, even refused to feed me — however, recently, V had been risking his very life to secretly leave food by my door; a gesture I greatly appreciated even though it put him in harm's way. He didn't do so often since it was too dangerous, but when he did, he tried to leave me a generous amount to last me until the next time he brought food. Sadly though, Saeran of course found out (though he didn't seem to know it was V's doing), and increased the amount of watchful eyes around my room to ensure it didn't happen again. Though his method was successful, I tried to be hopeful V would come back — but that hope was another thing in me that was slowly deteriorating.

My eyes welled up, and I glanced back out the window, trying to focus on the moon's beauty rather than the ugliness of my thoughts. It worked, at first...

However, the quiet sound of the door opening didn't fail to catch my attention since my senses were on hyper alert. My eyes, widening, immediately shifted in its direction, but upon realising it wasn't Saeran, I calmed down; only slightly though, because the hooded figure that entered, shutting the door behind them, wasn't someone I recognised.

I sighed. "Do you need something?"

The person spoke harshly, with a deep male's voice: "Not from you." He slowly stepped closer to me.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Then why are you here? I thought no one but Saeran was allowed to come in..."

He stopped about a foot away from me, more or less. That's when I noticed he was holding something behind his back, and my confusion only grew more. "I'm aware that I'm not supposed to be here. However, you've become a distraction to Mr. Saeran, and everyone — except me — seems too afraid of him to do anything about it, so..." He lifted his arm, and I heard a soft click; he'd been hiding a gun, and just cocked it, ready to pull the trigger with the weapon aimed at my forehead. I could see the psychotic grin on his face in the moonlight as he announced, "I've come to get rid of you myself. If I kill you, perhaps that boy will finally show the Saviour some good results of the tasks he's been given. Any last words?"

For a moment, I merely stared at the gun, debating if it was even worth fighting him to live. My shoulders sank as I decided it wasn't — Saeran wasn't Ray; he didn't care about my health or happiness the way Ray had, so what was the point? This Believer was probably right — with me out of the way, it seemed likely Saeran would make more progress since I wouldn't be around for him to complain about. He didn't like anything about me; hell, he despised my very existence. Why would he care whether I lived or died?

Finally, I sighed, and simply whispered, "Do it."

His smirk stretched wider, and I shut my eyes while he replied with an excitement in his voice, "Gladly."

Before he could pull the trigger, though, someone loudly banged on the door. Startled by the sound, my eyes snapped open — in time to notice the man in front of me jump in surprise, his arm lowering to my stomach...

And a gunshot sounded.

Suddenly, everything was moving in a blurry slow motion. The door slammed open, revealing a figure that vaguely resembled Saeran. Seeming to panic in his presence, the Believer jumped out of the window behind me, the sound of glass shattering and the gun hitting the floor ringing in my ears. I reached down with both hands to clutch my stomach, and when I brought them into my view, the sight of the dark redness painting them caused the pain to finally register, and my legs, no longer able to support my weight due to the overwhelming faintness I felt, gave out beneath me. My head hit the soft carpet, my eyes staring blankly ahead, my breaths being taken in sharply and rapidly. A moment later, I barely felt my body being moved, and the blurry features of Saeran's face entered my eyesight. He seemed to be shouting my name, and I could make out enough of his face to notice the concerned and desperate expression he wore, and it seemed like he might've been crying as well.

The last thing I could remember before going unconscious was the light feeling of being picked up and carried somewhere at a brisk pace — and a single question repeating in my thoughts:

Why?

~~~~

A grandfather clock ticked painfully loud, and grew louder as the image of it became clearer and closer in front of my eyes. Everything around me was shrouded in darkness, including my own body — everything except that damned clock. The hour hand drew closer to the twelve as the ticking continued, seeming to move slowly yet alarmingly quick at the same time.

Finally, the hour hand reached the twelve, and a jarring chime blared out. At the sound, my eyes shot open, and I instinctively tried to sit up, only to cry out in pain and fall back onto the mattress I'd been resting on. The pain flared throughout my body, stemming from my stomach, and it was then I realised my surroundings were completely unfamiliar: the walls were made out of wood... a cabin house?

The only things I could feel was the pain and confusion.

What happened? Where am I?

I was instantly reminded when Saeran rushed to my side, looking different from how I've ever seen him before; his hair much messier than it was the last time I saw him, the bags under his mint green eyes darker, and his clothes were both different and disheveled — black pants and a plain white button-up. "Are you okay?!" he asked, both frantic and rushed.

Oh, right...

The Believer. The gun, originally aimed at my head. Saeran's loud, angry knocking. How his knocking had caused the Believer's aim to shift from the shock, and... the gunshot. Saeran's sudden, surprising concern.

Analysing the little details on Saeran's face, such as his darkened bags and slightly red, puffy eyes... showed that his concern was so genuine, he'd actually been crying and losing sleep (more so than before) because of it.

Again the question presented itself: Why?

Realising I was staring while he was awaiting an answer from me, I hesitantly replied, "I-I'm okay." His face scrunched up, not seeming to buy my response and possibly expecting a better reply, so I elaborated, "I mean, my stomach really hurts, and I'm kinda confused, but otherwise I'm okay."

Saeran only became more puzzled, it seemed, at my words. "Confused? Oh. Right. You probably noticed that this isn't the Magenta building. I didn't think it would be smart to keep you there after what happened; so I brought you here to tend to your wound, and watch over you." He averted his eyes, continuing, "I managed to dig the bullet shell out and stitched up the wound the best I could before bandaging it. You've been unconscious for a little over two days though, and I was starting to worry..." His voice trailed off, and he turned his gaze back to me, a mixture of emotions flashing through his face as he seemed to be deep in thought.

"Uh, I mean, I was wondering about that, too, but that wasn't exactly what I meant..." I glanced down at my lap, awkwardly scratching an itchy spot on my cheek.

"What are you talking about?"

I inhaled, shut my eyes, and explained, "Well, you know, ever since your uh, Ray persona left, you've been a bit... rude. So I guess I don't understand why, after that, you'd care about me."

I expected an outburst from the white-haired man; whether it was as small as yelling at me, or as big as using violence against me.

But instead, Saeran was dead silent. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw why — his mint green orbs were wide with shock. However, soon after he noticed my staring, he seemed to pick up on my hidden fear of him, and his expression immediately shifted to one that I recognised all too well — regret. To my surprise, his eyes quickly watered, spilling over his cheeks at an alarming rate, and he placed his head down, hiding his face with his arms as heart-wrenching sobs overtook him.

"S-Saeran?" I called softly, my hand instinctively reaching out to smoothen his hair, but I stopped myself before it touched him. My hand hovered over his head in hesitation. Would touching him worsen or better the situation? I wasn't sure.

I decided to risk it though, allowing my hand to gently drop. As my fingers combed through his soft, messy locks, I couldn't really tell if I was calming him down or making him cry more. Eventually, he lifted his head slowly, his tearful eyes refusing to look at me, and my heart ached. My hand naturally slid down to cup his cheek, my thumb lightly brushing away his tears. He hesitated before his own hand reached up to press mine closer to his face.

"Saeran–"

"Don't," he snapped, but his tone wasn't intimidating nor rude. He sounded... more broken, than anything else. He sighed, and, seeming to put thought into his words rather than spitting them out, he muttered, "I've been thinking a lot since... that incident. I don't think I ever truly meant what I said to you. I think... it was more of a defense mechanism." He glanced over for a second to take in my confused expression, then continued, "I'm not sure if I told you this myself — you might've heard it from V — but when we were younger, Saeyoung, who you know as seven-zero-seven, mysteriously and randomly vanished from my side without a word. He was — is — my other half; my twin brother. I never knew why he left. My Saviour — err, Rika, told me that he'd abandoned me. She drugged and brainwashed me into believing that the brother I looked up to and loved so much... actually just abandoned me. She told me it was because I was weak, and worthless to him... and I believed her.

"I believed her when she told me V was the bad person. I believed her when she said she'd make me strong if I followed her. Every word she said, I believed..." I was beginning to feel sad myself, and Saeran noticed. He hesitantly held my face in his hands, so gently, it seemed he was afraid I'd shatter into pieces like glass. "I think... I treated you poorly because I was scared you'd do the same: leave without saying anything. I tried, so hard, to convince myself that I was being mean to you because you truly meant nothing to me; but that wasn't true. There was no way that could ever be true. I only did it out of fear; I was so afraid that if I continued to treasure you, you'd turn your back on me. And I desperately wanted to avoid that. But I realise now that what I did was wrong. And I regret it." He sighed. "I don't expect you to ever forgive me. My actions were very unforgivable. But I'm eternally sorry for everything. I'd like to prove myself to you that I can — no, that I will be better, if only you'd give me the chance to..."

At the end, his voice trailed off as he started to cry again, his tears coming more slowly this time. With a few tears in my own eyes, I whispered, "Saeran... of course I forgive you."

"Why?" he asked immediately; but it sounded more like a statement than a question.

Again he was avoiding my eyes, so I softly requested, "Saeran, please look at me." Hesitantly, he did, and I smiled sadly. "I forgive you because you didn't know how to properly handle your emotions. I don't think that's your fault at all — if anything, Rika's the one to blame. From what you and V have told me, it seems like she forced you to follow her every word, to stay by her side and blindly trust her like a lost puppy. You never had anyone to show you how to deal with various emotions in a healthy way — and your past only amplified that. So yes, I forgive you, and of course I'll give you a chance to be better, because I know you won't ever disappoint me. You have so much potential, Saeran, and I know you'll live up to it."

Saeran's jaw was slightly hanging, yet there was such an adoration in his eyes, I couldn't help but giggle at his oddly cute expression. Seeming to recollect himself at the sound, he shut his mouth and swiftly reached over, pulling me into his arms. The quick motion caused me to wince in pain, and he immediately let go. "Sorry..."

I merely laughed again. "It's okay." I opened my arms to him, and he didn't hesitate to embrace me, this time gently. I rested my chin on top of his head, his soft hair tickling my neck, and I let one hand lay securely on his back, holding him to me, while the other played with his hair and smoothened it.

For a silent, comfortable moment, we simply enjoyed each other's warmth. Then, he pulled away slightly, staring into my eyes with such a deep intensity, I blushed — and he only made that blush worse by stating with absolute certainty, "I love you."

My first instinct was to say it back, but when I couldn't find my voice, I resorted to gripping the collar of his shirt and tugging him close enough so I could kiss him. He seemed shocked at first, like he had been the very first time I'd ever kissed him — however, this time he wasn't flustered to the point of running away. In fact, he let a small smile creep onto his lips, and gently slid a hand into my hair (which was no doubt messy and tangled) as he returned my kiss. He broke it shortly after, a look in his eyes hinting he'd kiss me more if it weren't for my current situation; his smile cute and innocent. "Rest up. I'll bring you some soup if you're hungry."

"Please do." He nodded, and stood to exit. Before he walked out, I called to him, "I love you, Saeran."

Saeran turned his head with the most endearing smile on his face. "I love you too, princess~."

~~~~

A couple months later.

With Saeran's help, my wound healed rather quickly. When I was well enough, he gave me back my phone. Upon opening the RFA app, I went through a number of the chatrooms I'd missed, noticing that everyone was worried not only for me but for Saeran as well — which, to my surprise, was because V came clean about Mint Eye and Saeran, and even mentioning Rika (probably because he realised there was no way around it); saying he was only bringing it all to their attention after hearing the gunshot and seeing Saeran run out of the building, carrying me (unconscious at that point) in his arms with blood on my hands and seeping through the dark material of the black dress I was wearing. Saeyoung was the most shocked about Saeran, while Yoosung was most shocked about Rika.

After reading though everything, I entered the chatroom since everyone was present and worrying like crazy — which only increased at my sudden reappearance. I told them I was okay, my wound was healing, and (before Saeyoung even asked) Saeran was also okay and watching over me.

I kept updating them as I healed, and, once I'd almost made a full recovery, managed to convince Saeran to meet up with the RFA (V included) and reunite with his brother — which was surprisingly easier than I'd thought. With his approval, I'd sent Saeyoung our current coordinates, allowing him to grab us and be the first one to see both myself and Saeran.

The twins had a touching reunion when he finally arrived at the scene. Lots of tears were shed from all three of us, and it was difficult to determine who cried the most. Saeyoung first hugged Saeran, telling him how happy he was to see him again, alive and well — and then he embraced me, careful of my still healing wound, repeatedly thanking me for helping his brother escape Rika's toxic clutches, which allowed them to meet again.

Soon after, Saeran joined the RFA, Rika was caught and Mint Eye was shut down, and I had fully recovered from the gunshot wound.

It was June eleventh — the twins' birthday. Saeyoung suggested the RFA celebrate it by having a picnic in a field of flowers since he'd come to discover Saeran's love and knowledge of flowers. I decided to wear something simple yet beautiful — a plain white sun dress with a bit of lace and a nice twirl when I spun. Saeyoung wore a black button-up shirt and jeans, and Saeran wore the same, but with a white shirt instead. The moment Saeran saw me and took in my appearance, a small blush and a warm smile appeared in his face.

Saeyoung had asked Jumin to find the "finest field of flowers you have!" (his words, not mine) to make Saeran happy, and Jumin certainly came through. When we arrived, Saeran and I shared a look of awe, which V noticed and gave us a slight smile — the field was as breathtaking (if not more so) as the garden Saeran had tended to at Mint Eye.

Saeran's eyes instantly lit up at the sight of all the flowers, and, after taking it all in, he took my hand and ran towards it, with me giggling as he pulled me along. Thankfully I'd chosen simple Greek-style flats — they were gold and had straps that snaked up my legs, those and the lack of a heel preventing the shoes from slipping off my feet.

Eventually, he stopped to pick some flowers — two tall sunflowers. He turned, not dropping my hand, and held them out to me with an adoring smile. Taking them with a warm smile on my face, I asked, "Saeran, what's the meaning behind sunflowers?"

His smile grew, and I could tell from the twinkle in his eyes that he was eager to answer my question. "The sunflower... means adoration, loyalty, and longevity. They also represent the sun, if that wasn't obvious from the name. They're known for being happy flowers, too. So I wanted to give you these for a while... because I adore you, and I long for you, and I'm going to be loyal to you, and most of all I want you to be happy."

I beamed. "That's beautiful. I'm happy thanks to you, Saeran." I paused to stare at the flowers in my hand, then offered one back to him. "I should give you one too. I feel the same about you."

"Oh, no, it's okay, you don't–"

"But I want to," I interrupted, "because you deserve it. I love you, Saeran. Happy birthday."

Saeran's face was absolutely stricken with love, from his wide smile, to his glimmering eyes. He leaned down to kiss me, and stated, after breaking the kiss, "I love you more, princess. Thank you... thank you for everything."

~~~~ END. ~~~~

[iamsoneurotic]

Enter, Levi: The Final Chapter Part II

8 Months later is better than never I guess.

I had intended to write a second post about Levi’s birth (as I did with both Milo and Noli), but as it turns out, free time isn’t really a thing when you have 3 kids. Go figure. Anyway, where did I leave off… The boy was born.

The C-section left Rachael bedridden for the duration of our stay at the hospital, which is pretty typical. From what I’ve been told, it’s not so bad - the doctors load you up with pain meds and you’re out the door in a couple of days, ready to take on the world with a baby in one hand and a bottle full of pills in the other. Well, due to an allergy to Ibuprofen, Rach was denied the good drugs and had to settle for a less effective Tylenol substitute which may have been less effective than somebody flicking her in the ear to distract her from the pain in her healing wound. To make matters even worse, she was fighting a horrible cough and every hack of the lung made her feel like she was being gutted like a fish.

As sort of an icing on the crap cake, her IV slipped out of her vein at some point during the first night and caused her arm to swell and rash. Her stay was divine to say the least.

Speaking of crap cakes, guess who was on diaper duty by default! Well that’s nothing new, I’m usually on diaper duty just because my lovely wife secretly loathes me (we have a dog now, by the way. Guess who gets the honor of cleaning up his little backyard nuggets). This particular series of diaper changes, however, stands out more than the others because Levi pooped a mountain’s worth over the next few weeks. Not exaggerating. He went through every phase on the newborn poo color wheel in a matter of hours. Something was clearly afoot, I’ve been around this whole breastfeeding business for a while now and I know for a fact he was exporting more than he was taking in. Pretty sure milk doesn’t have corn in it either.

There’s a video of his first changing… I can’t even post it. It’s just that awful. I don’t even know why we would have filmed something like that in the first place.

One last poo item to discuss - there was one nurse who was a complete POS. Her shift consisted of coldly telling Rachael to suck it up and walk so they could discharge us and berating her about everything she did ranging from how she breastfed Levi to, I don’t know, the way she wore her hair that day. She was a real piece of work. Not sure if there’s a polite way to wish Ebola on somebody, but I’m all ears.

There was a bright side to Rachael being confined to her bed, it meant I got more time to hold Levi. Given the stress of his birth, I had no desire to ever put him down - thank goodness he only weighed a little over 6lbs, our lightest one yet!

I noticed while holding him that he bore a striking resemblance to Don Rickles.

Leading up to the birth, I had “joked” that I was looking forward to the time away from the kids while we stayed at the hospital. I was wrong, I missed my babies. Before we had left, Noli was really upset that we were leaving him - that image of him sitting on the steps broken hearted was burned into my brain the whole visit. Milo didn’t seem to care much, he gets away with more when daddy’s not home (Noli was yet to figure this out). So after 2 days of not showering, Rachael approved of my release so I could go home, see the boys, scrub the thin layer of Italian grease off of my flesh, and let her mom see the baby for a while.

It was a nice little visit. The boys and I wrestled, built Legos, and I showed them pictures of the baby. Noli was needier than usual and didn’t like that I had to leave again to go back to the hospital, luckily my mom stopped by to take the boys to her place so I could catch a break for a few… For the record, however, I didn’t take a break for fear that Rachael would sense my relaxation and unleash the hordes of hell upon me.

Advice for any new dads out there: NEVER enjoy yourself while your wife is in pain or holding a child. Don’t close your eyes, don’t smile, don’t sit comfortably in a chair, and if you absolutely HAVE to eat, make sure the food gives you indigestion… But not diarrhea, because woman have figured out that bathrooms are a man’s place of peace. There can be no peace.

…

I’m literally not kidding.

Long story short - she thought I was gone too long and as penance, I bought her Pei Wei and she reluctantly showed mercy.

I screwed a number of things up with this birth. First was posting Levi’s picture to Facebook before Rachael had even seen him, second was having the audacity to take a shower at our house, and the third thing happened after being discharged from the hospital. When we got home, I rushed the baby into the house so he wouldn’t get cold. Inside the house my parents were waiting with cameras to film the boys’ reaction to the new addition. Well, in my haste, I failed to wait for Rachael (who was hobbling up the sidewalk in excruciating c-section pain) - depriving her of the opportunity to see the boys’ reaction live. I’m currently serving a life sentence in the doghouse for my foolish ways.

All screw-ups aside, the evening went well. Noli, who we were most nervous about adjusting to a newborn, held the baby in his lap (with heavy amounts of assistance). It was a giant relief. Milo loved the kid at first sight, 8 months later he’s still in love with the little guy… I’m a proud dad. My parents went home, Rach attempted sleep, and late that evening I wrote  “Enter, Levi: The Final Chapter Part I”. A masterpiece in biographical storytelling.

For the next few days Rachael was stuck sleeping on the couch until her incision healed more; getting out of bed was too painful. So we spent our evenings watching the Winter Olympics while Levi slept on our chests. In the mornings my mother-in-law would treat us to fresh grapefruit & oatmeal breakfasts and I would grab us Starbucks on the way back from dropping the boys off at school. It was a really nice couple of days… I even finally buckled down and got my Texas Driver’s License! Only took me 3 years to make the effort.

We nicknamed Levi “Popeye” because he would always wink his one eye and make scrunchy faces. In retrospect, I should have thought to tape a little pipe to his pacifier. Dangit! During this time, I discovered that the sound of a crying baby isn’t as horrific sounding as it had been in the past. Milo’s cries would send me into a panic, and Noli’s would just irritate me… I find Levi’s cries on the adorable end of the spectrum. It’s probably because this will be our last kid (assuming all goes according to plan). I’m taking in the infancy more, trying to make it last and enjoy every moment. Sure, I still get frustrated - that’s what babies do to you, but I’m enjoying the ride more… I know I’ll miss it. I still wish I could pull baby Milo out of the photos on my phone and hold him.

If I’m not writing a ton about Levi in this post, it’s because the kid was just so darn chill as a newborn. He didn’t give me much more material than “Awww, how cute”... And he was definitely cute (still is - all my babies are).

While both boys were great with Levi, Noli had gotten increasingly needy. I’m not going to lie, it was downright infuriating sometimes to deal with it. I took him out one day to give him some one on one time, the plan was to buy him a ‘gift from Levi’. I told him Levi gave me money to buy him a toy (kids are so gullible!)... I should have specified how much money Levi actually gave me because $60 later we had a brand new Lego Spiderman play set which took me an hour to build and only 10 seconds for Noli to destroy. 10 glorious seconds of him leaving me alone.

The nightmare was only beginning.

Rachael’s mom had stuck around for a few weeks to help out around the house while we got acclimated to all the changes. The hope was that anything that could have gone wrong would have gone wrong while she was here and we’d have the extra hands… But Murphy’s Law is real, kids. Thanks to the joys of school, Noli came down with the flu a day or two before my mother-in-law was leaving. Just the thing you want around a newborn! And there would be no extra hands. Before we even got home from the hospital, Rach began packing her bags to stay with my folks until our house was no longer contaminated with disgusting little boy germs (Milo was beginning to run a fever as well).

Rachael and Levi staying with my parents didn’t ease my worries, however. The boys are constantly sticking their grubby little fingers all over my face (why their fingers are always moist I’ll never understand). The fingers occasionally go in my mouth because kids are weird and have no boundaries. That mouth is incapable of not being on baby Levi’s face… Because those cheeks. All I could think was that I had given my newborn baby boy the flu and it was an awful feeling. I had shown no signs of having the flu, but it takes a few days before symptoms even start, so everything was up in the air… Just like the flu running rampant in my house. It was a waiting game and I hate waiting.

So it was me, the boys and my mother-in-law, and I only had her help for about two days before she had to go back home. Thank God for moms is all I have to say. She made sure we all took everything we needed, when we needed to take it, and I’m pretty sure she kept me flu-free, because (spoiler) I never caught it and luckily neither did Rach or Levi.

Those few days, however, were difficult for an entirely non-flu-related reason… Needy Noli. By this point he had already been driving me nuts with the constant need for attention, but the flu just made it worse. Today I was looking through the texts Rachael and I were sending each other and every other message was me going out of my mind while Noli stalked me around the house. It was like one of those dreams where you’re being chased by some unknown entity and it always finds you no matter where you hide. You’d think the flu would have destroyed his sense of smell, but somehow it was heightened. There was no escape.

All he wanted was to play legos… Legos which by now were CRAWLING with flu germs. Every click those blocks made when I connected them was like the empty click of a revolver in a deadly game of Russian Roulette. Sitting in that pool of Legos (we have a LOT of Legos) was like swimming in a pool of flu-juice. I swear some of them were wet.

Then my mother-in-law flew home… and it was just me and the flu-zombies.

Thank goodness for my Dad. He took one for the team and later that evening risked his good health to save me from the inevitable misery that awaited me with those kids. The man is fearless. My memory of that week is a little hazy, but I’m 80% sure he arrived via horse. When he got to the house, he told me to get out and enjoy myself for a few while he spent time with the little petri dishes. Even Noli let me leave the house! So I grabbed my iPad and booked it to Starbucks where I spent the next 2 hours sipping Lattes, drawing, and watching videos of Levi that Rach would send me.

The week was no doubt hard - dodging sneezes, dealing with neediness and the usual parenting frustrations… But the hardest part was being away from Levi. I spent 9 months waiting for the little stinker and barely got to know him before he left me for a week. There was a constant stream of videos and photos coming from Rach, but it only made it harder. There was one evening when Rach stopped by with some food and I snuck out to see her. She had Levi in the van and I had to just stare at him from the window (as I was still unsure if I was sick or not). It was torture.

Rach on the other hand was living the good life at Hotel De’Marianelli with my mom. Pampering, baby assistance, hot meals… and a Boxer who quickly became a therapy dog. When Rach arrived at the house that first night, she was a nervous wreck. She started crying when she came in the door and Roxy (the Boxer) ran up to her, put her head on Rachael’s chest and just stared at her. She’d lick the baby’s feet constantly and anytime Levi woke up from a nap crying, Roxy would book it into the room to check on him.

Dogs are the best. Not to speak ill of the dead, but our cat would have just pee’d on the crib.

Fast forwarding ahead, the boys started feeling better, I never got sick, and seeing as my dad’s work was finished, he went back home… I seem to remember him riding off on a chariot of fire. The details are hazy.

One last thing remained… The disinfecting of the Legos.

20% of them ended up down the drain. I hope they never return.

Finally my baby came home. I refused to let him go that night… Or the next night. If I could lactate, Rach would have never gotten him back.

I make good babies. ~ M.

[lurkingcrow]

The first bit of a sequel I wasn’t going to write

So a while back I wrote a fic called Ghosts of a Future Not Yet Past  and I mentioned that I had a few ideas for how a sequel would go, and posted a few amusing bits that came to mind. For some reason my brain decided I really needed to write the first, less cracky part of that sequel, so here’s the first encounters our heroes have with their ghostly friends after Mortis. Feedback definitely appreciated, since until now I’ve tended to keep my angst and crack separated... 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is exhausted. After what feels like an eternity aboard military cruisers the soft comfort and serenity of his quarters in the Temple is like a balm on his soul. The warm spray of water against his skin is downright heavenly. Bit by bit Obi-Wan begins to feel himself relax.  He has the utmost respect for his men (millions of souls alight in the force, each one similar but unique, all counting on him to lead them to victory, to make their sacrifice worth it. his heart is littered with icy scars where they have been extinguished.), but being surrounded by the chaotic presence of hundreds of well trained soldiers going about their business at all hours of the day and night has been slowly wearing on him.

The incident on Mortis had not helped. He knows there is more to their visit than the vague fragments he remembers ( the daughter with her cryptic words, the shifting seasons, a courtyard full of tension. doubt, worry, horror, and strangely enough, hope. there is much he is missing, but he knows he is lucky to have this much.) It’s like a niggling itch at the back of his mind, a sense of foreboding that lingers despite his best efforts at meditation. With a groan he shuts off the shower and begins to dry himself off.

While Ahsoka appears fine, claiming she doesn’t remember anything from their unusual experience, Anakin seems to be similarly affected. More than once Obi-Wan has caught him staring at his hands, a troubled crease to his brow as he moves his fingers back and forth (he wonders what they saw there. what secrets cause his heart to ache with phantom pain? what events have left his former padawan adrift in a sea of uncertainty? he’s not sure he wants to know). It hurts him to see his friend suffer, but Obi-Wan has no answers to give and no time to search further. He shakes the last drops of moisture out of his hair and wraps a robe around himself as he steps out of the fresher.   "You know, for a place in the middle of the Republic’s biggest city, it’s kind of dark around here. I know Jedi are meant to be aware of our surroundings through the Force, but it couldn’t hurt to have a few more lights on. "

Obi-Wan freezes. Then promptly collapses as the wave of memories engulf him (hope, love, family. a light to see him through the dark). Luke. His padawan from the future. Anakin’s son. He was sure that was just a vision, a consequence of being on nexus in the Force, and yet here he stands. Sort of. The worried face and hesitant hands that lean over him from his position on the floor are much less substantial than he recalls. The voice, and the Force-presence is however unchanged.

“Oh no, please don’t be injured! Not when I can’t do anything to help!” The ghost reaches out as if to help him up only to pull back in frustration at the last second. “Sithspit! This is the worst.”

 Obi-Wan finds himself hard pressed not to laugh. Luke’s expression is the mirror image of his father when faced with a piece of machinery that refuses to cooperate. Carefully he raises himself to his feet and opens his mouth to reassure the young man of his continued health.

 “Somehow I doubt this is really the worst thing you’ve ever faced. Hello Luke.” He maintains a calm facade, though he can feel the corner of his mouth twitch in an effort to hold back his smile. In front of him Luke takes a step back.

“Be- Master Kenobi! You're alright? Oh thank the Force. Wait, you recognise me?”

The twitch wins, and Obi-Wan raises himself from the floor in a smooth movement, opening his arms to show his lack of injury. “Well I do now. This is a surprise! I rather thought the next time I saw you would be in your parent's’ arms.”

Luke’s face turns rueful. “So did I. Unfortunately the force had other ideas. I thought I’d wake up back with on… back with my friends, but instead I’ve been following you around.” He looks worried. “I hope they’re ok. Things were still… a little unsettled when I left”

In an instant Obi-Wan is reminded of how little he knows about his student’s current circumstances, and doesn’t hesitate to offer what comfort he can. “I’m sure they will be. If the Force has seen fit to twist the very fabric of time to put you here with me then I’m sure it can manage to put you back where you left. Our adventure on Mortis apparently took only seconds as far as the rest of the universe was concerned after all.”

The young knight looks relieved. “I hope so. Bad things tend to happen when one of us thinks the the others are in danger.”

Obi-Wan winces, that sounds far too familiar. While it eases his heart to know Luke has good friends on which to rely, he should probably be worried about the level of codependence it implies (hypocrite. as if you wouldn’t rip out your own heart if it would keep anakin safe. as if he wouldn’t take on an army to rescue your skin. why would his son, your student be any different?) “I understand, and though I doubt there will be much precedence for Force initiated time travel in the archives, I’ll do what I can to look into the matter.”

“Thank you B… Master, I appreciate it.”

The older man snorts. “I think, Luke, given the circumstances it might be appropriate for you to call me Obi-Wan. We’re a bit past formalities now, don’t you think?”

The wave of amused affection that follows his offer is almost enough to bowl him over again.

“Of course Obi-Wan. Speaking of which, I had a hard time staying awake through that last set of negotiations and I’m incorporeal at the moment. As much as I want to spend time learning everything I can about the here and now, you need rest. We can sort out how all this works in the morning.”

Obi-Wan feels the need to object, he’s not that badly off that he’ll deprive the young man of what must be the first decent contact with another being that he’s had in days, but his rebuttal is interrupted by a loud yawn. Luke (blasted self-satisfied padawan, why do none of them think he can take care of himself?) simply smiles.

“See? Go to bed. I’ll keep an eye on things. I promise I’ll find a way to wake you if the city’s on fire.”

He mutters something about that not being likely since Anakin’s still off world, as he shuffles his way to his sleeping quarters. Behind him he hears a choked laugh and feels his spirits rise. Ghost or not, Luke’s presence is a solid reassurance, for tonight at least Obi-Wan can let himself relax. It’s a precious gift, and he’ll have to thank him for it. Tomorrow.

 ********  

 With slow, heavy strides Anakin Skywalker makes his way back to the room that serves as his sleeping quarters on board the Resolute. He yawns. Despite the relative lull in the fighting he hasn’t been sleeping well. In fact, the last time he remembers having a good night’s rest was back in Padmé’s apartment on Coruscant (home, the scent of her hair, the sight of her smile, the sound of her laugh, his arms around her, home). Which is probably part of the problem. The last few weeks have been… difficult. Ever since the mission with the ancient distress beacon Anakin has felt unsettled. He knows he is missing something. Something important. It nags at him, but at the same time he shies away from the empty hole in his memory, a primal part of him warning against looking too deeply. It’s frustrating, and he really wishes he had time to take some leave and meditate on it. Ha, how Obi-wan would laugh at the idea. He misses his former Master. Even though they speak over the coms on a daily basis there’s no substitute for his steady presence at his back or his snarky comments in his ears.   

The door slides open and he tosses his datapad on the small desk beside the bed. He had thought he might have another look over the current deployments before tomorrow, tire his brain out a bit before trying to sleep, but that holds no appeal for him at the moment (you can’t run, hisses the voice in the back of his head. you can’t hide. you will try, you will fail. and you will be alone). With a sigh Anakin moves to sit and remove his boots.

“Well, the accommodations are a bit simpler than I expected”

Instantly Anakin is on his feet again, lightsaber extended and ready for combat. Only, as he faces his intruder, it immediately becomes apparent that it’s unlikely to do much good.

“You!” The room around him seems to explode as it comes back to him. The strange planet enmeshed in the Force, the room in the Father’s tower, and the dark haired apparition with unspoken warnings and accusatory eyes (guilty, guilty! they cried and he knows it is the truth. he is not the hero they name him,  he is not the jedi he should be. but he shoves it down into the black pit in his soul where he keeps his darkest secrets. he cannot afford to think on it lest it consume him). Breathless he looks up. “What are you doing here?”

Those dark eyes widen in surprise. Unlike the last time there is a distinctly ethereal quality to the her appearance, a faint blue aura surrounding the tiny frame that contained so much outrage.  “You can see me again? Wonderful. Just what I need. If it wasn’t bad enough that I’m stuck here but now I have to deal with you!” The last word is spat with enough venom to make a Krayt dragon proud.

“Hey! I …”

Anakin’s immediate defense dies in his throat. He could argue, like he did last time while dodging her fists. He could meet her insults with equally sharp words, hide his fear of the future she represents with anger and denial  but… He looks at this vision, all fury and fire, and all he can feel is regret. (guilty, guilty! comes the whisper, an aching sadness wrapped tight around inescapable pain. you will deserve it. you don’t know how, but you will hurt her, you will hurt everyone and there is nothing you can do). He sits back down, elbows on his knees and tries to calm himself.

In their short time together there was little his visitor could say, her tongue bound by some kind of Force geas that frustrated them both. Then again, she didn’t really need to. Between the Brother’s ominous offers and her own apparent animosity, Anakin had begun to question what exactly his destiny as the “Chosen One” might entail (he never asked for it. he doesn’t know what to do with it. how can he be responsible for the fate of the universe when he can’t even protect those closest to him?). Eventually he went to sleep, full of doubt and with an impressive bruise on his left cheek.  

After that it is hazy. The confrontation in the courtyard, being forced to choose between Obi-Wan (his master. his fatherbrotherfriend. he will never be as good a jedi, will only cause him disappointment, but anakin is too weak to ever let him go) and Ahsoka ( his padawan. his studentsisterdaughter. a responsibility he never wanted, but one he would rather die than give up), bending the Son and Daughter to his will - it all feels like a dream. There is more, he realises, but even as he thinks it he knows that it is time he will not get back. Whatever happened, it has been wiped from his memory entirely. Yet the emotions remain, and he can feel the Force confirm his suspicions. At one point he knew exactly what his future held. At one point he knew exactly what he will do to this woman in front of him. And he had he hated himself for it.

Anakin takes a deep breath. His head is pounding and his heart is racing but really there’s only one cause of action here.

“I’m sorry.”  

“What!?” If his previous statement had startled her, this seemed to leave his visitor completely dumbfounded.“Wait, you remember?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Not much. Only that you had good reason to hate me. And that no apology could ever be enough.” He tries to smile but it falls flat. “I figured I’d offer you one now, in advance. I know it doesn’t mean much when I don’t know exactly what I’ve done. Will do.”

 His visitor watches him consideringly, keen eyes weighing up his words and judging his sincerity. He feels her reach out into the force, taking the very measure of his soul. The tension between them is palpable, rising to fever pitch before she seems to come to a decision. She frowns, and her entire body seems to deflate slightly.  

“You want to apologise? Fine. Don’t become him.” She snarls. “The you that I know, the one who caused so much pain? Stop him from ever existing.”

Well. He tried at least.

“Right. Because that’s so easy! Just don’t become a monster. Great advice!  Except for, you know, having absolutely no clue about what exactly that means! Anymore sage wisdom from the future? Oh wait, you can’t tell me. Because there is absolutely nothing the universe loves more than to involve me in all sorts of cryptic prophecy related poodoo!”

With a lurch he stands up to start pacing.” Sith! If you’re still here and not some weird Force vision, then doesn’t that mean it’s inevitable? What’s the point in trying to fight fate when there’s nothing you can do to change it? ”

“Shut. Up.”

Anakin stops mid step, turning to look at the angry ghost. Her hands are balled into fists and he is sure if she were as solid as last time he would already be sporting new bruises.

“Don’t you dare give up. Don’t. You. Dare. The future is not set. I will not accept it.”  Her voice is colder than the caverns of Ilum, and he can tell she means every word. “ Whatever is  responsible for this mess ripped me out of my own time, away from my friends and family, away from everything I have sacrificed, everything I have dedicated my life towards and dumped me here, without warning, to a time where the only person I can speak to is the younger version of someone I loathe with every fibre of my very being!”

She takes a deep breath. “I  have to believe I am here for a reason. Because if I don’t, I will go insane. And until I figure out a way to get home, I will be damned if I don’t make it my mission to stop you from fa- ... screwing up the galaxy beyond repair. And the only way I can see that working is if I do everything in my power to get through your thick skull to stop and understand the consequences of your actions! And if that means I need to accept that I’m going to be spending most of my time watching over you then so be it! ”

They stand there, silently looking at one another.

It’s strange. But even as her words confirm his worst fears, reveal exactly what she risks losing, the conviction in her voice reassures him immensely. She may hate him but she truly believes he can change things.  Even if she’s wrong, even if he is doomed, isn’t it better to go down fighting anyway? Besides, at least she’s open about her distrust of him. That’s already doing better than half the Council. Anakin sighs.

“Thanks. I’ll hold you to that.” 

She huffs and looks him in the eye. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t like you. I don’t know you now, but I know what you might become. But you’re not him. Not yet. You have to choose to be him. And I refuse to believe that our choices mean nothing.”  

There’s a depth of emotion hidden in those words, an absolute refusal to budge from her believe. Listening to her, something sparks in the depths of his soul, a flash of protectiveness. With a spirit like that he knows that whoever she is, whoever she will be, she is important. In a strange way she reminds him of Padmé and the way she can inspire whole systems with only her words. He thinks she and his wife would get along terrifyingly well. If he lives long enough, if he doesn’t manage to kark things up, maybe he’ll get the chance to introduce them someday. Speaking of that…

“Sooo… do I get to know the name of my new conscience?”

Said conscience glares at him, and Anakin can’t help it. Having firmly accepted that she means him no immediate harm, and feeling an overwhelming sense of relief (there is hope! he will not face this alone! whatever comes he cannot disappoint her more than his future self has. she has seen the darkness that lies within him and does not cower. the knowledge is liberating) he can no longer contain his laughter.

She puffs herself up like an affronted  tooka, ready to launch a new tirade, only to stop suddenly. She cocks her head for a moment, looking at him in confusion. “Are you alright?”

This sets off another round of laughter in the Jedi Knight, and between his guffaws he manages to answer her. “I’m fine! It’s just… how ridiculous is my life? I’m a Jedi General, in the middle of a military cruiser, talking to a ghost, who I met on a planet that doesn’t exist, from a future I need to prevent, about the nature of fate and destiny. Obi-Wan will never believe me. No one will ever believe me.”

That gets a sharp laugh from his new acquaintance. “Tell me about it.” she says, before bursting into her own fit of hysterical giggles. The next few minutes contain nothing but but their laughter and a sense of shared camaraderie in the face of an insane reality. And with every second Anakin feels the darkness that clings to him start to recede. Eventually, he takes to opportunity to resume their conversation.     

“You never did answer my question you know.”

This time as she looks at him it is with considerably less hostility. Even if her smile seems more than a little brittle. “My name is Leia O- … Just Leia. The rest you’ll have to wait for.”

“Leia. Huh. It’s a nice name.” He raises his hand, in a mock toast. “Well Leia, here’s to not screwing up the future! You do your best to stop me from turning into a monster and I’ll do my best to figure out how to get you back where you belong. I don’t know how we’ll manage it, but we’ll give it a shot. ”

Leia lets out an inelegant snort. “Agreed. Just listen to me when I tell you you’re being an idiot and we might just make it out of this in one piece.”

Anakin raises his eyebrows. “Just, try to cut back a bit on the yelling ok?”

She just looks at him. Unmoved.

He sighs. “Fine… but only if I deserve it.”

Leia scoffs. “From what I can tell, you always deserve it.”

“Hey!”

Despite his outburst Anakin is grinning broadly. This might just work.

His ghostly friend shakes her head. “Get some sleep Skywalker. I may not have a body to worry about right now but you do. We’ll talk again, soon. It’s not like I’m going anywhere after all.”

With that Leia passes back through the bulkhead, and Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, General of the 501st lays back, closes his eyes and finally falls into a deep, restful slumber.

[fitnesshealthyoga-blog]

New Post has been published on https://fitnesshealthyoga.com/biohacker-josiah-zayner-is-under-investigation/

Biohacker Josiah Zayner is under investigation

In 2017, Josiah Zayner injected himself with the gene-editing technology CRISPR at a biotech conference, live-streaming the experiment. It was the highest-profile stunt for the biohacking celebrity, who had developed a following among fellow biohackers — people who experiment on their own bodies outside of traditional labs with the hope of boosting their physical and cognitive performance.

Some of those followers became his customers. Zayner runs a company called the Odin out of his garage in Oakland, California, selling biohacking supplies ranging from $20 DNA to a $1,849 do-it-yourself genetic engineering kit.

Now it seems his stunts have caught up with him: He’s under investigation, accused of practicing medicine without a license. In a May 8 letter, which Zayner posted on social media, health officials from California’s Department of Consumer Affairs asked him to come discuss a complaint filed against him and bring along a lawyer if he wants one present.

It’s a sign that the law is starting to reckon with biohacking, a group of activities for which there aren’t yet clear regulations, but which could be dangerous if amateurs try to follow Zayner’s lead and tinker with their genes at home.

This isn’t a far-off risk. High-profile practitioners like Twitter chief executive Jack Dorsey are making biohacking into an increasingly popular lifestyle. The underlying philosophy is that we don’t need to accept our bodies’ shortcomings — we can engineer our way past them using a range of high- and low-tech solutions. While some of the “hacks” are probably benign, like Dorsey’s penchant for drinking “salt juice” each morning, others are scientifically untested experiments that could cause harm.

Biohacking, explained

Biohackers talk about “optimizing” and “upgrading” their minds and bodies, and they’ve got many ways of trying to do that. Some are techniques that people have been using free of cost for centuries, like Vipassana meditation and intermittent fasting.

Then there’s cryotherapy (purposely making yourself cold), neurofeedback (training yourself to regulate your brainwaves), near-infrared saunas (they supposedly help you escape stress from electromagnetic transmissions), and virtual float tanks (they’re meant to induce a meditative state through sensory deprivation). Some people spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on these treatments.

They may also buy wearable devices to track their sleep patterns or implant devices to monitor their glucose levels subcutaneously. The more data you have on your body’s mechanical functions, the more you can optimize the machine that is you — or so the thinking goes.

Some biohackers believe that by leveraging technology, they’ll be able to live longer but stay younger — or even avoid death entirely. As millionaire Serge Faguet, who plans to live forever, put it: “People here [in Silicon Valley] have a technical mindset, so they think of everything as an engineering problem. A lot of people who are not of a technical mindset assume that, ‘Hey, people have always been dying,’ but I think there’s going to be a greater level of awareness once results start to happen.”

Josiah Zayner, explained

At first glance, Zayner comes off as an attention-hungry stuntman. His exploits include giving himself a fecal transplant in a hotel room (he invited a journalist to document the procedure) and trying to genetically engineer his own skin color (he documented that effort on his blog).

But he also has a solid grounding in science. He holds a PhD in biophysics and used to work on synthetic biology at NASA.

Josiah Zayner

Wikipedia

In 2015, he left his NASA fellowship early because he was, in his words, “fed up with the system” and with the slow pace of scientists just “sitting on their asses.”

Zayner has also long been frustrated with what he sees as the Food and Drug Administration’s sluggishness in greenlighting all sorts of treatments. It can take 10 years for a new drug to be developed and approved in the US, and for people with serious health conditions, that wait time can feel cruelly long. That’s part of why Zayner wants to empower people to experiment on themselves.

He seemed upset to learn he was under investigation, as anyone probably would be when facing up to three years in jail and a $10,000 fine. He tweeted, “I need a lawyer on retainer. People be accusing me of all types of crazy shit.” On Instagram, he wrote, “WTF!!!! … The fucked up part is that so many people are dying not because of me but because the FDA and government refuses to allow people access to cutting edge treatments or in some cases even basic healthcare. Yet I am the one threatened with jail.”

He added that he’s “never given anyone anything to inject or use, never sold any material meant to treat a disease and never claim to provide treatments or cures.”

The biohacker’s indignant tone is at odds with some of his past statements. In an interview with the Atlantic last year, he expressed regret for publicly injecting himself with CRISPR, which he admitted was an act intended to provoke. He seemed disturbed by his own celebrity: After the CRISPR incident, a cult of personality had sprung up around him, which he described as “out of control.” And he worried aloud about what biohackers would do next:

Honestly, I kind of blame myself. … What it’s turned into now, people view it as a way to get press and get publicity and get famous. And people are going to get hurt. There’s no doubt in my mind that somebody is going to end up hurt eventually. Everybody is trying to one-up each other more and more.

Zayner acknowledged that some people contact his company “for the sole purpose of buying stuff from us to inject” and said he discourages them from doing that. But given that he’s live-streamed himself doing it and that he sells the DIY CRISPR kits necessary for others to do the same, his words of deterrence may not mean much to customers.

He sounded a self-aware note about that, saying “that’s why I feel responsible for this shit.” Yet asked whether he was going to stop selling CRISPR kits, he said no.

In his recent Instagram post, his sense that he’d been wronged (“WTF!!!!”) was quickly followed by a different sentiment: “I knew this day would come.”

This isn’t the first time he’s run into trouble. In 2016, he tussled with the FDA, which objected to him selling kits to brew glow-in-the-dark beer. And after he injected himself with CRISPR, the FDA released a notice saying the sale of DIY gene-editing kits for use on humans is against the law. Zayner disregarded the warning and continued to sell his wares.

Now that state officials have stepped in to investigate, they’ll have their work cut out for them. Existing regulations weren’t built to make sense of something like biohacking, which in some cases stretches the very limits of what it means to be a human being. As biohackers traverse this uncharted territory, it’ll be fascinating to see how the law scrambles to catch up with them.

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