#is that I really liked the begining and as soon as we got to the underwater kingdom it kinda dipped to me

[yxngbxkkie]

just a fight (b.c)

hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.

The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.

“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”

Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.

“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.

Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.

“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.

Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.

“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.

Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.

“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”

Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.

“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”

His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”

“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”

“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.

“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.

“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.

~

You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.

When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.

“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.

“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”

Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.

Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.

You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.

He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.

“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.

His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.

Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.

“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.

“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”

He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.

“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

I just suddenly had a memory and had to share. Usually I'm one of those stick to the tags people, but I think this explains the disconnect some people experience entirely.

Once upon a time, I was an elementary school teacher. (I only made it one year before I switched to being a TA instead, and parents like these were part of the reason.) I'm gonna put it under a thingy bc idk how to be concise.

So at the beginning of the year, parents get supply lists. They try to keep them mostly the same throughout grade level, your standard box of #2 pencils, 2 pens, 2 boxes of crayons (bc kids break crayons like crazy) an eraser, 2 glue sticks and some sort pencil box/pouch to keep their stuff in.

First day, kids come in and start unloading their stuff. I start taking up glue sticks to put in the clear container on the counter/cubby. This one dad gets mad, saying that he didn't buy glue sticks for every kid in the class to use. (I'm doing the same thing with the 2nd box of crayons, but I am telling kids to write their names on them using their pens, bc some kids got Crayola and some kids got Rose-Art and that's something parents might get mad over.) I try to very politely explain to him that it's easier to keep them all in one place as the kids tend to lose them, or forget to roll down the glue or put the cap back on, and this way I can check behind them and make sure none of the glue sticks are wasted.

This guy is sure that his precious little princess of a daughter would never forget to put her cap back on her glue stick, despite being like, seven. Mind you, we are in the "waiting area" between three classrooms. It has the bathrooms, and the tables where the kids can be pulled for one on one or small group work. We can't step into the hall bc I have to monitor my students. TAs all have morning duties.

And also, what if she never uses two whole glue sticks? Am I just going to keep it instead of sending it home with her? This man is nearly having a full on tantrum over glue sticks. This was over a decade ago, when you could still buy a pack of 2 for a dollar and change.

I am nervous, bc there is a man who is raising his voice at me, but I am also pissed off, bc there is a man raising his voice in front of my students. So I laugh it off and walk away, telling him most of us don't mind sharing with our friends, "do we?" I get a tiny little chorus of voices that say 'no'. I add that by the time winter break comes, I'll have to go out and buy more myself anyway, like I did with all the other supplies that were already in the classroom. But that donations are always appreciated. Then I just started talking to my students and ignoring him and he left. And I'm really glad bc I may have started crying if he kept being mean to me.

Oh, and his daughter ended up being my student who would threaten to hold her breath until she passed out if she didn't get her way. I think I rocked her entire world when I told her to go ahead; as soon as she passed out her body would start breathing again on its own.

my dad, trying to explain the concept of money to me: say you have a sandwich, and i need your sandwich. but i don't have anything to give you. you're not just gonna give it to me.

me: i would just give it to you.

my dad:

[sinofwriting]

Karma - Charles Leclerc

Words: 1,396 Summary: Charles and her had plans. 2025 would start with her fully moving in with him and then at the Monaco Grand Prix, they’d become public. A certain rapper ruins that in Vegas. Note(s): Lamar!Reader, Reader has the nickname ‘Butterfly’, slight smau, changed results of Abu Dhabi, also yes the title is referring to the Taylor Swift song, lol. Thank you @burningcupcakefire for encouraging me to write this when I mentioned the idea!!!

Masterlist | Support Me!

Charles could privately admit that when all the diss tracks started to come out, he more than paid attention to them. He had always appreciated Kendrick’s music but in the past year had gained a new perspective of him as both an artist and a person. All because he had started seeing the artist’s younger sister.

They hadn’t gone public yet, were still unsure of when they wanted to. He had reservations about putting more eyes on her and considering how his fans, how motorsport fans were, he could only imagine the baseless claims they’d made, the attacks they’d lay at her feet and Y/N, or Butterfly as she had been nicknamed by her brother’s fans, a nickname that had quickly caught to everyone in her life, had her own reasons.

She didn’t care about what fans would say, they were behind a keyboard, she could be perfect, and to Charles she was, and they would still find something to pick at, there was no winning. It was the attention he brought. She was already sometimes followed around by paparazzi just because of her brother, she knew that as soon as the news broke, she really would never be able to get her groceries in peace without some divorced thirty-year-old shouting questions as he took photos of her.

So they both had agreed that after the new year, when she was finally fully living with him in Monaco, and then at the Monaco Grand Prix, they would reveal their relationship, that of course didn’t go to plan because of one Instagram story.

—

—

Butterfly is fuming when he gets back to his hotel room, the curtains drawn back and letting the lights of Vegas spill into it, onto her. She’s nearly as stunning here as she is on his balcony in Monaco that faces the coast. A gorgeous backdrop that can’t even come close to her beauty no matter how much it tries.

Her fury makes arousal simmer in the pit of his stomach and his lips twitch upwards when she leans into the kiss he presses to the corner of her lips.

“You're nearly as mad as when he mentioned Whitney.”

She scowls at the verbal reminder of that shit. “He’s lucky I’m a civil adult.”

“Very civil.” Charles agrees.

“I mean, honestly what the fuck does he think he’s doing. Acting like he got an interest in F1.”

Charles listens as she starts to rant, having clearly waited for him, and he listens as undresses. Gathering his clothes up as her voice increases in volume and he gently tugs her with him into the bathroom, turning on the shower before easily lifting her onto the bathroom counter, her hands pausing their gesturing to run over his arms in thanks before she continues.

She rants through his brief shower, nearly slipping when she begins to read out texts between her and her brother.

“He is pissed?” His voice is nearly high, head poking out of the shower to look at her with wide eyes.

Butterfly looks at him in confusion, head cocked to the side. “Baby, of course. Your family. We don’t stand for shit like this against family.”

Charles can’t even point out that said shit is just an insta story of Drake saying he’s betting on him to win the grand prix, because he knows it feels deeper than that, especially with Drake’s history of betting. His mind is far too focused on the word family.

“I’m family?”

She lets out a laugh, tongue running over her teeth. “Baby, you got with me right before one of the worst times for our family and stuck through it. You never had to prove yourself, but that did it. You're stuck with all of us now.”

He feels warm all over at the words and he ducks his back into the shower, quickly rinsing off before climbing out, barely remembering to put a towel around his waist before capturing her lips in a kiss.

Her hands eagerly run over his back, legs opening to pull him closer and he tries to keep his upper body away from her, not wanting to get her shirt wet, but she pulls him closer and he can’t resist her, has never been able to.

“You’ve made me all wet.” She teases when they break apart.

He tries to apologize, but then she’s taking his hand and pressing it between them, against her leggings, and the feeling of wetness pulls a moan from the back of his throat.

“You are very lucky that I don’t listen to Andrea.”

“Very lucky.” She agrees.

—

“K said you had an idea.”

Charles lets out a hum, fingers trailing over her ribs.

“He wouldn’t tell me what.”

His fingers pause. “I was thinking instead of staying in Vegas tomorrow we go and see him.”

“We leave for Qatar on Monday.”

“We can make it back to Vegas in time for our flight. It’s barely a two-hour flight from there to here.”

This time she hums.

“Can we go public?”

He nearly chokes. “What?”

“Public, I want to go public. We had kind of talked about doing it before Monaco next season, but things have changed a bit.”

“Because I’m family.”

She laughs, “Yeah, baby, because your family.”

“What if we do a uh soft launch?”

“A soft launch?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a picture with your brother for my insta stories, start following you, you follow me back.” Excitement starts to build as he speaks.

“I post a little something about being in Qatar.”

“We do a little date night in Abu Dhabi.”

She hums, “You kiss me after you win Abu Dhabi.”

“You think I’m going to win?”

“Fuck yeah, baby. First Ferrari driver to win there and you’ll overtake Norris in the standings and maybe Ferrari will finish P2 in the constructors.”

“I like this plan.”

She smiles. “I like it too.”

—

—

—

—

“Yes Charles!”

“Yes!” He screams over the radio. “Where did Carlos finish? Where did Norris, Oscar?” He wants to celebrate the win, but the constructors and drivers are far more important.

“Carlos P6, Norris P3, Oscar P10. You are second in the drivers. And we are second in constructors, 2 points between you and Norris, four points between us and McLaren.”

“Fuck.” The excitement in him is simmered with resentment. Four points was all it came down to and of course it wasn’t in their favor.

“Charles, Charles,” Fred’s voice is thick over the radio. “You did fantastic, another win for you and an amazing drive!”

He smiles, taking his hands off to wave at fans as he slowly moves around the track. Italian easily spilling from his lips as he thanks Fred, Bryan, the mechanics, engineers and the whole team.

It’s satisfying to pull his car to the number one spot as Lando takes off his helmet, jaw twitching. Charles wants to shake him because how can he be this focused on second in the drivers when him and his team won the constructors. He stares at him for a second before getting out of the car and throwing himself into his teams arms.

They easily catch him, hands patting all over, his name spilling off lips over and over again. They grip him tighter before letting him go to take off his helmet and balaclava.

The air is refreshing against his face and normally he's taking a drink of water, starting to put back on jewelry, but today he’s searching through the crowd of red, heart thumping when he finally notices her.

She’s to the side, beaming at him as Bryan stands on her left while his mom and brothers stand to her right. And he goes to her.

His hands easily going to her face, holding it gently before kissing her.

She’s mumbling something against his lips and he wants to know what, but he can’t stop kissing her. Not when she’s clutching at his arms, pressing closer to him. But a nudge to the ribs makes him pull away, breathless, and his tongue runs over his swollen lips.

“So proud of you, baby! So fucking proud!” She yells at him as he’s pulled away for a post race interview and he can’t help but blow her a kiss, happy to have won in front of her for the first time and in front of his family again.

[bcacstuff]

Sunrise somewhere near the east coast of Brazil.

I’m not sure what time it is, or really where I am. Somewhere near the coast of Brazil, I know that; sometime during my birthday - I know that, too. I've flown past the Hindu Kush Himalaya, Pamirs, Caucasus, and Atlas Mountains, and will soon cross the Andes. I'm headed to Chile to meet my family after a long time away. A blessing, to be sure, and made even more sweet coming as it is on the heels of an incredible adventure in Nepal.

I’ve spent much of the 12 hours since Istanbul sorting through photos, visual portals into experience far away yet close at hand, pixel-born reminders of a trip, a trail, impact and experience and immersion.

I’m never quite sure how to share tales of any adventure, less so one with such meaning (to me at least) as this past one. The standard travelogue seems too mundane, too pedantic, to capture it all. Some deep and philosophical tome equally missing the mark.

So, perhaps neither, maybe some of both, a hope of struck balance, or at minimum translation of time and place and experience and people. And not all at once: Like any expedition, these things must be savored, a bit at a time, building and percolating and settling and expanding yet again. So, first, the beginning…

Me on the Kongma La back in 1993, wondering about remote valleys less-trodden than Khumbu.

I guess it was about 31 years ago - December 1993 - that Stuart Sloat and I bashed our way across the lower Khumbu Glacier from Lobuche and, laden with heavy packs, made our way to the Kongma La. We had no map, just a vague point from locals and the knowledge that there was a lake up there somewhere. We found only a puddle and a frigid night, but awoke to a splendid sunrise and the Star Wars zaps of sun-warmed ice cracking, alerting us to the real lake on the east side of the pass (as opposed to our mud wallow on the west). Glorious views, backlit Lhotse and Nuptse and countless more unknowns behind, peak on peak and valley on valley leading who knows where. I knew someday, maybe, I’d get into those valleys, wander the paths away from it all.

Thirty years later, I sat in a teahouse in Chheskam, the northern triumvirate of Mahakulung, with Jhanak Karki and Harka Kulung Rai, talking about opportunity over a steaming mug of tongba. We had just trekked parts of the Mundum Trail from Phedi over Silicho to Mahakulung visiting dZi Foundation work and communities; and then we went up above, following the Hunku Khola just enough to get a taste, an idea of what may lay above. The townspeople and government were excited as we were, having had the same idea for years: create a trail up the Hunku, connecting Chheskam to Kongme Dingma and the quite-popular Mera Peak trek.

It was all possible, all doable, but like the proverbial tree falling silently in the woods, this new trail would be all for naught if no word got out about it. But, I had an idea, and it seemed possible.

Two months before, I shared coffee in a small cafe in Glasgow with Sam Heughan. We’d “met” months earlier on Zoom calls for an ill-fated film project, and then I stalked him down in Scotland; he was, as is his manner, kind enough to indulge me rather than call the cops. I mentioned this idea, going to Everest Basecamp, but doing it the back way, the hard way, the way no one would know or understand or really care about, but the way that would be far deeper, more profound, more meaningful and purposeful and fun. He was game, but I needed to see some of it, understand it more, before committing to guiding anyone up there.

Tongba steaming and heads spinning, Jhanak, Harka, and I knew now it was doable. A route possible, something that promised to bring meaningful tourism and tourist dollars to this long-forgotten part of Nepal, so close to Khumbu and yet utterly left out of the economic boon of the Everest economy. Now I just had to convince Sam.

Trekking to Basecamp is not for the faint of heart, even doing it the standard way from Lukla up the Khumbu Valley. There’s long days, cold nights, high altitudes and dry air and new foods and more. It kicks people’s butts with glee. But this route? It promised much more: camping rather than lodges; an unknown trail through unknown country (How steep would it be? How long each day? Would we find water where we needed it, flat ground?); a 19,000-foot, semi-technical pass to cross into Khumbu; and more.

As I thought and hoped, though, Sam took little convincing. An adventurous soul with a heart of gold, he was excited immediately about it all and was on board. And, to be honest, my little coffeeshop meeting was both to suss out his interest and let him meet me (and judge me) in person, but also, more importantly, to feel him out. Guiding for me is not simply an economic thing, transactional, but about time and people and experience. I’ve done too many “off-the-shelf” trips in the past to have zero tolerance for sharing the mountains with people whose goals and values are misaligned with mine. It took but minutes with Sam to know our worlds, while vastly different, were built upon similar ideas and ideals and approaches.

And so, on December 3, we met in Kathmandu, a year’s planning finally coming together.

Unfortunately for Sam, I don’t really believe in the sugar-coated version of Nepal; fancy hotels and windowed views of life are little more than television with smell. I want people to see the real Nepal, wander the back streets, immerse in the smoky incense of dawn on cobbled streets, bells chiming and dogs barking, ambling through the visceral reality that is Pashupatinath, taking in the respite of Bodhanath, embracing the comforting chaos of alleys and backways of Lalitpur.

Sam rose to it all, never flustered or bothered, always interested and engaged and inquisitive. We had but 24 hours in the Valley, but Sam saw and did and digested a lot.

And then we were off, an Altitude Air B-3 piloted expertly by Moreno whipping us up and out of Kathmandu, through the clenching smog of the city to sprawling views of the Himalaya: the Ganesh and Langtang ranges, on to Dorje Lhakpa and Gauri Shankar as we fluttered high over Kavre Palanchok. Then the jumbled jags of Rolwaling and behind, finally, the Everest range, giants piercing the morning sky, Cho Oyu, Nuptse, Lhotse, Everest. Makalu behind, hiding a bit, masked by multitudes, a distant Kangchenjunga almost a mirage eastward.

Before long, some 40 minutes, the show was over, the reality about to begin. We dropped down, our mark Chheskam, a small village clutching the flat ground hundreds of meters above the Hunku Khola, a river raging and carving down from above. Moreno, Swiss to the core, politely but abruptly ushered us out with our duffels and, counting fuel minutes, was off in a jiffy.

We were here, and town was ready.

Going into this trip, I knew Chheskam was excited. A new trail represents economic possibility for the village, the chance to not just be small pawns in the bigger Khumbu trekking economy, but rather to capture some of that themselves, to control it, to reap the benefits and build it out in a way that fits and flourishes.

I guess, though, I didn’t know how excited: We were met at the chopper by many, locals and officials, all adorning us with kathas and warm welcomes. We then walked around the village, Sam getting to see firsthand the impact of dZi Foundation’s work here, projects like one house-one tap, one house-one toilet, kitchen gardens, and more resulting in a very self-sufficient, healthy, clean, place with relative prosperity. Thanks to Jhanak’s connections, we met the oldest man in town as he demonstrated traditional weaving of nettle fabric, sipped raksi in our friend Prashanta’s house, and briefly sat with wedding guests tipsy from revelry. And then we were summoned to the local school for a bigger gathering.

Our team ready to leave Chheskam for the Hunku Khola valley and the new Muddhi-Kongme Dingma trail.

It was huge, much of the town was gathered, hundred of school children, the local government officials, and more, all in the school grounds. We were run through the welcome gauntlet of ceremonial recognition, our necks strung with dozens of kathas and marigold garlands before being treated to local cultural dances and speeches of excitement and gratitude and welcome. Gratitude and ceremony are big in Nepal, and it was strong enough in Chheskam to feel a bit awkward: after all, Sam and I and our team were here just to walk up the valley. We had no guarantees of success - for us or for the future trail. But, the point I think was far bigger than either of us, any of us; the celebration on that day was one of excitement for the future, of possibility, of potential signified by the two of us being willing, caring enough, to come and do this and see where it leads, literally and figuratively.

Thirty-one years before I stared off into these valleys, selfishly hoping that one day I’d wander them, filling my personal cup with some adventure. It took a long time, and was beyond gratifying to finally be here, but doing so with great people, a great team, and a goal beyond anything personal.

[calliopesdiary]

MANIAC

the one where you don't go back to the boys.

part two of the conan gray series

read part one here

synopsis: after getting cheated on by your previously expected soulmates, a change in perspective occurs and you find yourself falling for a different set of three.

warnings: foul language, slander on the marauders, sexual innuendos, mentions of smoking, a small taylor

"PEOPLE LIKE YOU ALWAYS WANT BACK WHAT THEY CAN'T HAVE."

Leaving Hogwarts early for Christmas this year was not something anyone could've forshadowed.

You, the girl who spent most of her time studying for her upcoming OWLS in November, had disappeared without a trace.

Of course most of your close friends knew where you were, and some not so close friends did aswell.

"She can't just run away from her problems." Said Sirius, his leg bouncing anxiously from the news Regulus had just sprung onto them.

"Sirius, It'll be fine, okay? When they get back to school, we can formally apologize and move on, right?" Remus attempted to reassure Sirius, but he in reality he felt quite crestfallen.

Lily sat quietly, already regretting her decision to do this with them.

In her head, she knew they had every intention to not cheat and solve things the right way— but she hadn’t helped.

It all started one night at a loud and ear-shattering Gryffindor victory party after a successful win for their Quidditch team.

She got drunk, and they were completely wasted.

And you weren’t there.

So their drunken minds believed it would be a missed opportunity if they didn’t take their chance with Gryffindors golden girl.

Lily knew she should’ve said no, she should’ve gone back to her dorm and hid from them for the rest of eternity.

But fate clearly had other plans.

And after secrets, longing stares, and lingering touches that the truth finally came to light.

and it was all at your expense.

“So— When will our Reggie be joining us, Meadowes?” Evan slurred, his voice carrying a heavily intoxicated tone.

“Soon enough, he’s got one more OWL to complete and then he’s on his way.” Dorcas mused as she gently pet the head of her tipsy sleepy Gryffindor girlfriends head as she babbled on about Quidditch.

Evan nodded drunkenly— before taking another swig.

Dorcas seemed so peaceful with Marlene— who had surprisingly accepted her invitation to spend Christmas with the Slytherins, though Marlene truly wasn’t prejudice against them like others were.

They seemed so… in love.

You had love once.

Remember?

They’re gone.

Remember?

They’re gone.

“I— I had love… once—“ You hiccuped sadly, beginning to sob for the umpteenth time this evening.

You were extremely drunk, who could really blame you?

“Aww… Treasure…” Barty (who surprisingly was very sober) cooed, encapsulating you in a bear hug as you cried into his chest.

“How many more times is she going to do that?” Asked Peter, who— by the way: lied to his friends and said he was going home for Christmas.

He was only visiting for the night, as he was currently visiting his girlfriend— Sybil Trelawney who lived in town.

“Who knows, Pete. Who knows..” Evan slung his arm around him.

“This should be the last time before she realizes that she doesn’t need them, that’s what the sprites are telling me.” Pandora smiled, petting your hair gently in comfort.

“Pettigrew, you should turn back to your rat-pack and tell them they’re trash.”

You spat, in broken sighs.

Obviously, Peter felt a bit of offense to the rat slander but alas— they weren’t aware of his rat-secret.

Quite a shame.

“Sure thing, L/N.”

'FEELS LIKE WE HAD MATCHING WOUNDS BUT MINES STILL BLACK AND BRUISED.'

on December 19th, Regulus had finally arrived at Barty's flat he'd rented for the holidays.

Marlene, Dorcas, and Peter had their departure just the day before, leaving just you, Pandora, Evan, Barty, and Regulus.

Pandora had just wished you all goodnights and dream blessings before nodding off to your shared room for your stay.

"So, anyone up for some firewhiskey?" Offered Evan, who held a giant bottle of the substance.

"Just a small bit, Rosie." Barty accepted his offer graciously.

"Need anything, amour?" Regulus mused in your ear, by far he was the most comforting one. As the other two just distracted you with their own twisted ways of thinking and chaos.

"I'm alright, Reggie. Thank you." You nodded politely, you had felt incredibly off this break.

Though they all weren't stupid, they knew why you were acting strange.

Every year since third year; You and the boys would leave Hogwarts and spend Christmas with the Potters.

Snowball fights, roaring fires, Effie's hot cocoa, the memories echoed through your brain like they were music blasting from your headphones.

Every time you closed your eyes to sleep, you would see endless slideshows of everything you had ever done with them.

The nights of passion, the hugs, the pre and post-quidditch game good luck and good job kisses, the play fights, the happiness.

Your life was black and white before you met them, they brought the color.

But they showed you colors they knew you couldn't see with anyone else.

Well, besides your 'best' friends.

Were you really just that? Just friends?

You were a year younger than the Marauders, same year as Regulus.

and Sirius would be so pissed off if he found out that you were sleeping with his brother-

...

Wait.

Who gives a fuck about Sirius?

Who cares what intelligent insult will come out of Remus' mouth?

And James, he liked Regulus once.

They'd hate you.

But,

Maybe you wanted them too.

So, you ended up taking a few shots of firewhiskey.

Okay,

More than a few.

"Um- actually, Reggie. I- I do need something." You slurred, holding onto your sober ex-boyfriends brother best friends nimble shoulders like he was your lifeline.

"Yes, amour?"

"I want a kiss."

Evan spat out his drink back into his cup, and Regulus' face heated up significantly.

"I'll give you a kiss..." Barty clambered over his boyfriends as his cold, veiny hands meet your waist.

His hands skim your body up and down, before pecking your lips softly, as if he was asking for acceptance.

"Can I kiss you?" Barty spoke so softly, he may have been chaotic and insane- but he was extremely cautious and respectable with things like this.

"I-I wanna taste you so bad.." Evan cooed at Barty's sweet words, as he held an extremely flustered Regulus in his arms, watching the scene in front of him unfold.

"Barty- please, kiss me." You mewled, barely finishing your sentence as he dived into your lips.

His lips surprisingly tasted like cherry chapstick, even though he had just been chugging firewhiskey.

After feeling like an eternity, Barty broke your kiss.

"I've wanted to do that since fourth year." He mumbled drunkenly, gazing up stupidly and lovingly at your blush-kissed face.

His kisses were heavenly, and so were Evan's, and Regulus'.

And needless to say, you didn't return back to Pandora that night.

'YOU'RE POINTING AT THE STARS IN THE SKY THAT ALREADY DIED.'

The return to Hogwarts was an awkward one at that.

But returning back to Hogwarts feeling happier than ever with your boyfriends? That was the best return you could make.

Hand in hand with Barty, you strutted into the Great Hall.

Evan and Regulus trailed behind, as you rambled on and on to Barty about something.

James stared your direction, and you unfortunately met his gaze.

He wasn't dense, he could see how your bright smile seemed to dim.

He smiled, softly.

James knew that they'd never get you back the way they had you.

He should've realized that you were the light of their lives.

Everyone should've woken up to see you.

They hurt you.

And this was their price.

They had to watch you thrive, with three other men.

Who would treat you like a goddess, something they never sought time for.

OPTIONAL FORIGIVNESS ENDING (my fragile angel heart can't take no happy ending)

PEOPLE WATCHING (coming soon...)

taglist; @hisparentsgallerryy @cultish-corner @asexualbuthorny @prettylittlewrites @champomiel @hellothere7 @anakinsluvrr @lady-balem @awkwardalie @nosteponduck @eeviee4 @dreamygirli3 @navs-bhat @angemyrtille @mrssslangdon @siillly @makanirock05 @hcqwxrtss123 @wolfyychan @nislame @lalalandincraz @rorywright @ih3artpjo @st4r-girl-official @pain-in-the-ashe

[66sharkteeth]

Weekly thoughts, ep 200.

First off, thanks for 200 episodes! If there's anything I've learned throughout this comic, it's that I'm very bad at estimating how long it takes me to do something, because I always estimated CoB would be about 175 eps, yet here we are. Still going. I swear I'm not dragging it out, this is just how long it's taking to tell the story and complete all the arcs.

Anyway, sorry if this is how you're seeing Claude's new mask for the first time, but tbh there wasn't as much response to it as I was expecting? Rex really stole the show and reminded me that people do still indeed care about the main character the most in the story lol. That and people seem to focus on how the episode ends more than anything else and Claude's big reveal was at the beginning.

Glad those who commented about it did like it for the most part though! I knew there would be a few who wouldn't and I understand. I mean it was canonly called ugly in the story. But I'm glad the majority seem to like it and think it really suits him. I know a lot of people are missing the bird mask, and to be fair, so is Claude. But the bird motif was entirely a Kastner family theme. And since he's been kicked out of his family, he doesn't feel like he has the right to that look anymore. And like he said previously, a tragedy mask is unfortunately perfect for him after everything. Btw, one little fun piece of trivia is the mask he got out of the box was just black and red. He painted the swirlies himself.

Anyway, as for Rex and his big plan, yeah, I guess not a ton to say about it until next episode! The questions I primarily see will be answered there.

And lastly... At this point I do see a lot of people getting impatient about The Memory™. And all I can say is...it's coming. Like actually soon. Like...fast pass soon. All I've been drawing this month is Memory™ episodes. I'm there, and they're coming soon.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Sister Ray In The 70s

Something special to close out the year — SISTER RAY IN THE 70s! This custom-made Doom & Gloom compilation gathers together a whole lot of "Sister Ray," as performed by Lou Reed and his various bands between 1972 and 1980. One hour, 47 minutes. More ding-dongs than Hostess. Would make a great quadruple LP bootleg, if you ask me.

Everyone’s favorite transgressive-in-many-more-ways-than-one Velvet Underground epic wasn't exactly a standard during this time. But when Lou wanted to let everyone (including himself) off the leash for a bit, he'd break "Sister Ray" out as a vehicle for some unholy/unhinged jams/vamps/raveups ... and judging by what we've got here, he really enjoyed doing so. This is gnarly stuff, shameless, harrowing and totally fun. Not for the faint of heart — but none of you are faint of heart, right?!

"Sister Ray" (Leicester University, Oct. 14, 1972)

A roar rises up from the crowd when Lou announces: "This is the sad, sad story of Sister Ray." With the Tots grooving behind him, it starts off in a mellow mode — which is good, because it allows Lou to really sing, making sure to annunciate every nasty lyric. Soon, everyone’s cooking (for the down five).

"Sister Ray" (Kansas City, May 2, 1973)

The short-lived Moogy Klingman-led lineup gives "Sister Ray" a cartoony, streetwalking funk strut, hooting and hollering behind Lou. Extra props to the drummer (known only as Chocolate), who taps out the appropriate beat during the "Who is that knocking?" section. "RIGHT!!!!" Lou exclaims approvingly.

"Sister Ray" (Buffalo, Dec. 8, 1973)

As far as I know, this is the only recording of the Rock & Roll Animal band tackling "Sister Ray," but it's a 20+-minute doozy. Of course, it takes about 10 minutes for Lou to enter the scene — lord only knows what he was getting up to backstage. Despite a wonky mix that occasionally is overtaken by pummeling drums and bass, it's a vicious listen. I like that it all comes to a pretty definitive conclusion before Lou realizes he hasn't sung the concluding verse and revs things for a final ride ride.

"Sister Ray" (Stockholm, May 14, 1974)

This one starts at a blinding white light/white heat pace, everyone riding a locked-groove riff for as long as they can. Guitarist Danny Weis is off the chain here, reveling in both chicken scratch funk and insane feedback. Lou's tambourine accents make me think of On The Corner's infernal sleigh bells, and his "CooooouLLLLDDDNnnnnt hiiiiIIIIIIIIITTTTTttttt iiiIIIIITTTTTtttttt siiiiiIIIIIIIIIdewaaaaaayyyys" vocalizations towards the end are wicked.

"Sister Ray" (Boston, October 29, 1976)

Lou had Doug Yule, an actual member of the Velvet Underground, in his band in 1975, but for some reason, "Sister Ray" wasn't played that year. But she was back in action in '76 — and in Boston, we get to hear a key "Ray" ingredient we haven't heard much of so far: Lou's skronked out guitar work. It's as if he walked past the old Boston Tea Party on the Fenway that afternoon and thought, "Ohhhh yeah, I used to really shred!" And shred he does, dueling mightily and furiously with sax man Marty Fogel. I'll also recommend this video of "Sister Ray" from a week later, which doesn't feature any six-string pyrotechnics but is awesome nonetheless.

"Sister Ray" (Lund, March 26, 1977)

With Michael Fonfara's icy electric keys mixed way up and Michael Suchorsky's locked-in drums, this almost sounds more like "Kicks" than "Sister Ray." I think that's Lou on distorto guitar there at the beginning, but he mainly focuses on delivering his whiplash vocals as the song progresses. Fogel starts to get pretty loose towards the middle, though I wish he'd cut loose even more — and I definitely wish there was a tape of Don Cherry sitting in on "Sister Ray" from around this era! The car crash ending is a blast, too.

"Sister Ray" (New York City, May 21, 1978)

"Sister Ray" takes no prisoners! This one from one of the many Bottom Line sets Lou and the Everyman Band played in 1978 is a tense slow-burner, sometimes dropping down to a whisper, Lou adding profane/profound asides and stopping to tell an old Warhol story. "Andy said, 'Make sure you do the song that's got suckin' on my ding-dong on it.' I said, 'Oh, why? Social commentary?'" Also fun: the band seems to be having a long disagreement about where the changes of this three-chord boogie are. Come on, Moose! (Sadly, this is one of the more lo-fi documents included here — where, oh where, is my Take No Prisoners: The Complete Recordings boxed set?!)

"Sister Ray" (London, April 10, 1979)

One of the weirder "Sister Ray"s I've come across — though that might be partly the fault of the cavernous acoustics we're dealing with. There's a long solo guitar extravaganza (Chuck Hammer, I presume?) to kick things off, and then a monomaniacal/mechanical beat from Suchorsky, the crowd clapping along, Lou hollering over the top; it almost has a Suicide vibe? Then there's a terrifying drone-metal dirge coda ... Chaos! But that's what "Sister Ray" is all about, right?

"Sister Ray" (Avellino, June 16, 1980)

Lou's insane 1970s had ended and the sober 1980s loomed (Loum-ed?) before him. But he wasn't done with "Sister Ray." Or maybe "Sister Ray" wasn't done with him. Fittingly, this version feels a little bit exhausted, some flop-sweat, some out-of-gas fumes. "Give me some rhythm — FUCK!" Lou yells at the gang early on. But it still rocks, don't worry. My favorite part is Fonfara's wildly inappropriate synth solo. Mainline located!

📷: Lars Jonsson, Copenhagen May 1974 (via weaponsetc)

[yourivyygrow]

PART 0: SIREN SONG | counting summers

previous | next: 01. deny, deny, deny

your therapist-assigned vacations take a turn for the stranger when you discover an all-too-familiar compass in the local antique shop.

series: counting summers, book one: the pull of the tide, szn one: where the current takes us

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

wordcount: 5.7k

warnings: parental neglect, references to depression, semi-explicit description of a suicide attempt

a/n: big project incoming lmaoo

THE HEAT IN your room was high enough to kill, you thought as you mindlessly clicked on the 'Next Episode' button.

North Carolina wasn't especially known for its remarkable hotness but the coast nearing summer? That was something else. The tank top and the jean shorts you sport on stuck to your skin like glue and if you wore any thinner or shorter, you'd probably end up being arrested for public indecency. As a whole, you weren't a big fan of the heat.

You weren't a big fan of anything, really. That's why your parents dragged you here.

"Y/N?" Called your mom's voice through the door after a few knocks. "Are you awake?"

You quickly glanced at the time. 4pm. She probably knew you were, but the number of times you slept through the day to escape it for a few hours were too numerous to count. You didn't resent her for asking. "Yeah," your answer was short, like usual when speaking to her. Waiting for her to talk again, you pressed pause on the beginning of the episode you were going to watch.

There was a short blank, you almost thought she left until she spoke up. "We need you to watch the house while your dad and I go down to the market. Can you do that?"

You sighed. Of course it was a demand. It always was. "Sure. Enjoy."

Your mom didn't say anything else, and your heard her steps going down the stairs leading to the living room of your AirBNB. Soon enough your dad and her will be slamming the front door shut and leaving you alone once more on the trip that was supposed to be for you.

I mean, it didn't surprise you, but you thought they would have hid their disdain a little better.

You never had a really good relationship with your parents. I mean, you were pretty sure you were an accident even though they didn't confirm it to you. This distant, cold, bordering on professional relationship with them took a turn for the worse when you grew up ─ and the thing was that you couldn't exactly pinpoint when. It just happened, along with the slow decline of your mental health.

Your dad was a passive presence in your life. He just wasn't there most of time: a quick hi and bye when you got in and out of school and asking to sign your failed tests which he didn't glance at twice. That's fine, in theory. Your mom was something else, though.

The more you grew up, the more you became sure that she had something against you. A type of intergenerational resentment, you thought, but you gave up analyzing that long ago. That's what your therapist advised you.

Which is why you were going to push all of that aside and resume your episode.

The characteristic sound of Outer Banks' opening music echoed through your headphones, calming your palpitating heart. John B's, well, more like Chase Stokes' voice followed soon enough, doing his classic narration at the beginning of the episode. That's what you liked so much about the show, the naturalness of it. It was sort of like watching someone read a diary.

Outer Banks wasn't your kind of show at all, which is why you didn't jump of it when it first appeared on Netflix in 2020. You were more of a fantasy drama kind of girl. The longest interaction you had with the media was probably when you lingered on the announcement of season 4 two months ago. Maybe it was a sign - because a week later, your therapist strongly advised you (more like ordered if you were asked) to go on vacations. Your mom jumped at the opportunity to "see a little of the coast" without asking much of your opinion or your dad's. So here you were, in North Carolina, in the actual, real life Outer Banks.

The only reason you picked it up was because you thought it would be funny considering your situation. A little taste of what it would be like. You started it a few days before taking your flight - turns out you stayed awake all night finishing season one because holy shit, was it addictive. You immediately understood why it got the success it did. So season two was downloaded and binged on the road as well as in plane, and you were set on finishing it today, as well as starting the third season. It's not like you had anything else to do, your mom clearly had plans of her own when it came to this trip and didn't try to include you in the slightest. You suspected, basically knew, the only reason she was there was for the vacations and only programmed them under the orders of your therapist to give herself some comfort about being a... well, shitty mom. No other way to say it.

It was fine, though. Now you were on the last episode and entirely hooked. A part of you didn't really want to keep on watching it - it meant one season less until you had to wait to season four to come out, until you had to say goodbye to the universe you got attached to for a little while. You had the bad habit to do that, get emotionally devoted to fictional universe and fall into heartbreak when it ended. It was way less scary than real life, you thought, but a thousand time more painful.

The other part of you, though, was dying to see how the season would conclude. That's the part who took over, against your better judgement.

The music stopped, the episode carried on and your focus wasn't wavered by the clinking of the front door keys.

     When people said they needed to reconnect with nature after something truly fucked happened, you thought they were joking. You never really experienced that apart from when you finished a really good book and had to spend one hour looking at a wall to compose yourself - it wasn't the same thing, was it?

The season two finale of Outer Banks had made you go into complete lethargy. And by lethargy I mean wide eyes, mouth agape, looking at the ceiling-lethargy. The black credit scene stared back at you like some kind of taunt, contrasted by the tempting white 'Next Episode' button. But you needed some time to gather your thoughts after... all of this.

You didn't hear your parents leaving. You were way too entraced in this one hour of pure adrenaline (by proxy, true, but it was still adrenaline) that you missed yelling at your mom to leave you the front door keys ─ you didn't expect her to remember by herself, and even you reminded her once you had to do it twice just in case. She had a good memory, except when it came to you. So, technically, you were stuck at the AirBNB until your parents came back.

But expecting you wouldn't find a way to go out was severely underestimating someone who seeked escapism in her own house.

You needed to breathe fresh air. Fiction affected your reality more than you liked to admit, sometimes taking more space than not, and the emotional rollercoaster you just went through was in desperate want of an outlet. It's with your heart thumping in your chest and your mind still hazy that you opened the kitchen's window downstairs and, as graceful as a whale out of the water, sneaked out of the house.

Usually, you were pretty good at sliding off soundly. The numbers of time you spent your sleepless evenings on the hidden corner of your house's rooftop were too uncountable by their recurrence. The numbers of time you actually went away to walk around the neighborhood for hours on end without your parents noticing were even bigger. You blamed your lack of grace as you fell from the window to the grass on the overwhelming heat.

After wiping any mud, dirt and green stains off you, you took a road you now knew too well. You didn't really explore your side of the Outer Banks, mainly because it didn't interest you much, you much preferred staying in the walls of your assigned room. But during one of the mandated visits your mom dragged you to so you could report at least something to your therapist, a small, broken down shop caught your eye almost immediately.

Your AirBNB was situated in a little coastal town, not far away from beaches and cliffs, big enough to have some well known shops, tourists attractions and bars, but not quite enough to be considered a city yet. Headphone on, blasting music, it took you a little below ten minutes to walk to the main street, still bustling with local life: street vendors were slowly packing up for the day while the food stands still held up, the strong aroma of spicy seafood seeking your nostrils, almost nauseating by its intensity. People with shopping bags pushed past you like they didn't see you, children were laughing and running around the surf shop at the end of the street - but that's not where you were headed.

You took a left turn into a much smaller, incommodious street that you'd definitely be way more scared to take at night. The sun was still bright in the sky due to the season, though, so you walked through it with your mind still reeling from the finale of your show.

The Pogues were stranded on an island, Poguetopia as they way too enthuastically called it. And Big John Routledge was alive, apparently? What was with dads and dying just to come back in this show. If your dad had to go in mysterious circumstances, you'd prefer he'd stay gone. Sometimes you thought your mom shared your opinion.

You finally arrived to the place you were looking for: Arianne's Lost and Found Antique Shop. A lirtle smile stretched your lips. It didn't look like much: the wooden insigna was mostly ate down my mices and the construction of the small shack made you wonder how it survived the tropical storms washing over the coast. Vines were growing on its facade, the smell of sea salt strongly emanated from the planks. The shop had this strange charisma to it, drawing you off the main street the first time. And the second. By the third time, Arianne knew you by name and because of that, you felt the obligation to come back every few days, if not every. Also because it was the only spot you didn't feel out of place.

The bell of the windowed front door rang aggressively when you pushed it open. The smell of sand and old books hit your nose instantly, a small comfort as you shivered slightly - the shop's interior was downright cold despite not having any air conditioning, and the never ending antique bookshelves lining the walls didn't do anything to bring warmth to the room.

A raspy, high-pitched voice rose up from behind a worryingly tall pile of clothes. "Y/N? Is that you, baby?"

"Who else?"

The tall figure of Arianne, the legend in the flesh, withdrew from behind the piled-up clothes. She was a lanky, dark-skinned woman with waist-lenght black and pepper curls. Her eyes, tired by age, sparked with kindness and mischief and while her cane was holding most of her weight, she still moved with a swift assurance that made you look twice when she passed by. When her eyes set upon you, a vivid smile lit up her face.

"What are you implying about my shop?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh nothing, nothing..." You swiped your finger on a nearby shelf, covering it in dust, before looking back at Arianne expectantly.

The old woman raised her cane as if to hit you. "Why, you little-"

You sidestepped her as a chuckle escaped you. Soon enough, she let out a huffy laugh herself. Not a lot of tourists knew about the Lost and Found due to its... dubious placement. Athe locals seemed to avoid it like the plague. Business was bad, to say the least, and she knew it. You don't know how Arianne kept afloat and sometimes you told yourself you didn't want to know ─ at least, she knew the jokes were all in good fun.

"Some sketchy men came by yesterday night with some shit they left back there, if you're interested," she offhandedly said.

And obviously, your attention was caught by her words like a fish on a hook. "Really?"

"Would I lie about more junk cluttering this place?"

She nudged your foot with her cane in the direction of the new arrival. Without awaiting more words from the woman, you walked toward the back, dodging the multiple boxes filled to the brim with rusty silver plates and yellow partition papers. Ever since you discovered the Lost and Found there had been no new donations, you assumed because it was because its unpopularity. Turns out you were wrong.

When you reached the wooden walls alcove at the end of the shop, you were faced with a myriad of disarranged items spread out on a wavering table, varying in sizes and apperances but all sharing one similarity: the undeniable charm of being lost at sea. Arianne was quick behind you. "The guys who dropped this off were searching from some treasure, or something like that."

Your eyes were still fixed on the table in front of you when you answered. "Doesn't look like they found it."

"You tell me. Some of those things actually look kinda interesting, though. Didn't have time to look at 'em properly," said Arianne. "Made me think about you and your little show with all that treasure hunting."

You huffed. With your aversion of talking about yourself or any kind of small talk, obviously the topic you'd bring when you reluctantly had an interaction with someone would be your current fictional obsession. Or just plain silence. But this time it was the first case, right now it being Outer Banks. Most of the time people didn't stick by long enough for you to get talkative and speak up about it, or they would leave halfway through. But Arianne didn't, she let you rant about it for a week straight and seemed to enjoy when you briefed her about the last episodes you watched. It might have to do with how she didn't know how to make Netflix work - but you preferred lying to yourself and pretend she was actually interested.

"Thanks Arianne," you muttered.

With a wave of the hand, she shunned your gratitude aside. "Bah! No need to thank me for that garbage."

You didn't add anything else. With the tip of your fingers, you traced what looked like a small, rusty anchor, engraved with a delicate wheat symbol. After a comfortable silence, Arianne spoke up again.

"Anyways, I have some paperwork to get back to in the office. You'll tell me about the next episodes you watched when you'll be done looking through all that."

She turned around as you nodded without thinking, way too entranced by the objects already. Before leaving, she added, "Oh, and if you could sort stuff out. Would appreciate it."

She withdrew in a little corridor leading to her office. You didn't mind at all. A business, even failing, was still a business.

Plus, you had much to keep you occupied.

A gun to your temple wouldn't get you to admit it to anyone else but yourself but back when you were still holding on to school and your passions, you were a bit of a history nerd. Not the big parts of history, but the small, obscure parts nobody cared much about: the pirates, the lost treasures, the lost myths, legends and sea goddesses. That's one of the main part of Outer Banks that hooked you. It reminded you of you, a few years back. Before everything

You started looking through the mess of silver, plated gold and rust. They were beautiful, their sheen a little tainted by time and salt water, yes, but still beautiful. In your eyes at least.

Rummaging through them was an arduous task as some of them seemed to be tangled together (and good luck detangling metal) but somehow you enjoyed it. Organizing them by color, type, time they might have been lost... you liked it, the order. You didn't consider it as a job when Arianne asked you to arrange her messiest piles of clutter, which is why you refused the money she offered you the first time. You just appreciated being in contact of history, as insignificant as it was, and the satisfaction of putting everything where it should be.

An hour must have passed, maybe a little more: the sun was visibly declining in the sky through the window, painting the dark room in soft shades of yellow and orange. You were almost done sorting through everything: to your surprise ─ note the sarcasm ─ not a lot of interesting things came out of it. Old cutlery, navigation tools too damaged to be considered worthwhile... a big pile of nothings. But it kept you entertained for a bit.

That's when the sun fell low enough to hit something on the far end of the table, catching the corner of your eye. A small glimpse, so very little you could've missed it by blinking. Curiosity took over your being - you were pretty sure you didn't notice anything of the sort before.

Reaching out your hand, you took a hold of it.

A compass.

It was average-sized and not as rusty as the other objects, so it must have not been in contact with the sea water for as long. An intricate design was engraved on the gold of the cover, with different flowers, accompanied by a line of text around it you couldn't quite make out. It looked strangely familiar, to the point your stomach flipped a little at the first observation.

You clicked on the button at the top to open it. The inside was quite... normal: the usual arrows, lines and whatnots. Except that, while you weren't a navigator, you were grown up enough to know that one of the arrows wasn't pointing north at all. Which was too bad because it was the entire point of a compass. Must be broken.

It hits you when you close it, like a speeding truck, your reflection staring back at you through the engravings. You knew exactly where the sense of familiarity came from.

The compass you had in your hand was too alike, down to every points, to the one John B inherited from his dad in Outer Banks. The one that kickstarted the whole show.

Your jaw dropped open. Outer Banks wasn't filmed in the actual Outer Banks, that you knew, because they mainly shot in South Carolina. But you assumed some scenes must have taken place in North Caroline because you were pretty sure that what you had in your hands was an official prop - I mean, that's the only thing it could be, right? How would a random compass dropped in the sea could look so much like John B's? Maybe they lost it while filming a boat or sea scene and it got washed up by the tide, who knows.

You almost fell while hurrying to Arianne's office. Luckily, she seemed to be getting out at the same time. She stared you down as you stood in front of her, not uttering anything. You didn't even know what you were going to say. You just wanted to show her. "Are you okay? Do I have something in my tee- Sweet Jesus, did you break something?!" She immediately started walking to the alcove you just left.

You put yourself in her way. "No, no, I didn't break anything. I just- I found something."

"Something valuable?" She asked, an eager smile finding its way to her lips.

"Uh... depends on what you call valuable?"

"I mean monetary value. Cash. Something that can help me pay rent, baby."

You didn't answer. Instead, you showed her your hand.

The smile on Arianne's lips faltered almost immediately. If you were being honest, you'd think it's because it was only some piece of junk among other things for her ─ except that for you it wasn't. At all.

She carefully took it in her palm. "A... compass. Where did you find it?" The woman toyed with it as if it was made of glass.

"In the stuff you showed me." Arianne sighed. You didn't pay it any mind, choosing to continue. "Listen, it looks like an exact copy of the one in the TV show I'm always telling you about, y'know? I think it might be like, a lost prop or something and-"

You stopped abruptly when you saw Arianne's eyes. You were pretty perceptive of other's emotions and right now, it looked like everything in her world broke inside her eyes the moment you said your sentence. You stood there, awkwardly, as she was detailing you. Then the compass. You. The compass. "Uh... did I say something wrong?"

She snapped back to her normal self, as if on cue. "No, no baby absolutely not. I'm just... happy to see you this joyful. It doesn't happen a lot except for when you tell me about that show of yours."

This made the situation even more awkward for you. God, you hated when people said that: pitying you so openly. 'We know you're miserable but hey! At least sometimes you seem happy, it means you're on the way to be fixed!'. Like there was something to fix. Well, apparently there was, and it could be resolved in a two weeks trip.

You chose to push your thoughts aside with a shake of the head. Opening your mouth, you were getting ready to ask her about holding on to it, fueling your Netflix-induced obsession in the process. Arianne anticipated it.

"You can keep it." She hastily spoke, putting the compass back in your hand like it burnt her.

This time, you were the one looking at the compass then back at her. "Really?" You were stunned that Arianne, out of all people, would give away something from her shop that easily.

"Yeah. As a thanks for keeping an old lady company," her palm wrapped over yours, folding your fingers around the object. "For helping with the shop and organizing my stuff."

Her voice was tight with emotions for a reason unknown to you. You didn't think it was that big of a deal but apparently she did, so you kept quiet whispering a muted 'Thank you'.

Taking back her hand, Arianne stood up a little straighter. "Anyways, you've been back there a while now. Better get home before it gets too dark. You never know what happens in the street these days, and your mother might barge in and accuse me of kidnapping."

You fought the urge to tell her that she didn't care enough to do it. A good point she made, though, was that walking all alone as a tourist and as a woman in the middle of night somewhere you barely knew directions never lead to anything good. So, as she slapped the back of your legs with her cane, you hurried your steps toward the front doors, exchanging thanks and casualties, never forgetting to tell her you'll be back tomorrow.

Before you left though, she called for you. "Y/N? Just... be careful with an old thing like that. Most often they tend to pull you places, whether you're ready for it or not."

What? You frowned, confused, but her ominous words were heard by one ear and left by the other the second you stepped outside.

     You genuinely thought you knew the way from Arianne's Lost And Found Antique Shop to your house by heart.

Turns out you were miserable and arrogant. You were definitely lost. What a combo.

Maybe it was the setting darkness that confused you, the last fingers on sunlight warming up your bare arms as the cold night breeze slowly took over. The roads seemed to all look the same, the nightlife was surely taking on the bars and the dimly lit streets. You were starting to panic. Mainly because even though your parents wouldn't care much about you being gone, they would care about you coming back that late, through the kitchen window. You'd be in for a long, long monologue about irresponsability. Again.

Yeah, you didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Great. Amazing, even.

The compass you tied to the belt loop of your shorts prickled the skin underneath and the ghost of a grin appeared on your face. You had an actual prop from Outer Banks. How cool was that?

You carefully detached it, detailing it once again. The strange warmth from the metal seemed to spread from your palm to your fingertips, calling you to open it. Which you did like you were compelled to. Plus, it could eventually help you find some directions. Your AirBNB was probaly on the south-west or something like─

The arrow was definitely pointing south now.

You assumed it was broken earlier, it was stupid to think it would be magically fixed as soon as you stepped out of the store. You took a turn in another mystery street, trying to find any directions that could lead somewhere even a tiny bit familiar to you, eyes still fixated on the intricate drawings of the compass.

That was when the arrows shifted, gently, like they were pushed by the wind, to point the exact direction you strayed away from.

Your heart skipped beat. Acting on instinct and panic, you shook the compass - you didn't know why you did, actually, but it didn't change the fact the arrows wouldn't budge from the direction they shifted to. You walked a few, agonizingly slow, steps back, not to startle anyone that might... magically make the arrows move? Now you were overreacting.

Still, you stood on the exact spot where you pulled out the compass a few minutes ago and under your incredulous eyes, the arrows shifted again. When your head rose up from the tool to the environment around you they pointed to a little dirt road in front of you you hadn't seen before.

No other words could describe the situation other than creepy.

Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, dangerously threatening to burst out of it. The dark blue tint of the sky and the general silence of your surroundings didn't help your anxiety - or was it some sort of thrill? You didn't know. Nevertheless, the arrows pointed, taunting you by sitting motionless in their glass capsule.

You tentatively moved forward. You could've sworn for a second the little needles looked like they were trembling in agreement.

A part of you wanted to believe this weird compass that strangely looked like the one in your favorite TV show had a conscience of its own and was leading you to something. The other, more rational part of yourself was screaming about how delusional you sounded and that you should get home right now before getting jumped, mauled, assaulted or all three at the same time.

Except that what it called 'home' was a tiny house with a cracked yellow wallpaper and leaky sinks in which no one spoke to each other unless obligated to. Something your mom rented last minute without considering if you even wanted to go, still pretexting it was all for you. A blacked-out room and a screen that burnt your thighs due to overuse but the red scar it left felt more like love than the glances your parents threw your way. Four walls filled with a graveyard silence, you wished to scream into it sometimes but the voice just couldn't come out.

Seeking escapism from your own household, your own life, was what you did best. So you walked down that dirt road, an iron grip around the compass.

     You followed its lead desperately, panting like a dog. Each of your steps quickened until you were running ─ you didn't even know where you were anymore, your phone probably ran out of battery by now, your headphones were hanging on for dear life around your neck and your hair was carried by the speed in which you moved. You passed by small, rural houses, hurried through a somber forest and almost slipped into mud, nearly colliding with a night owl and blindly obeying the compass' lead.

Until you were faced with the shore.

Your feet, aching from the run, stopped when the soft texture of the amber sand bent under them. It took a while for your mind to catch up with your body, but when it finally did, the last breaths you had in your lungs got knocked out of them: the sky was now of a deep ink, filled with clear, bright stars ─ which means you were far away enough from the main city to see them properly. The only source of light was the full moon, reflecting on the never ending sea unraveling in front of you. The beach seemed to extend for a while as well, and the slow hum of the waves was all you could hear apart from your ragged breathing. It was calm. Peaceful.

You peeked at the compass in your hand, hoping something would finally happen. This place looked like finality. Something happened alright: It stopped pointing and the arrows were spinning in erratic circles.

You swiftly closed the compass, tying it to your belt loop once again. No reactions would come out of your body even if you seeked one, you were too worn out. Walking from the treeline to the seaside like an automat, you let yourself fall on your back upon the sand, the water brushing your shoes when the tide rose up.

The stars looked down on your near breathless body. Tormenting you with their enormitude, their meaning, their greatness.

With nothing else around you but the shore, it struck you just how empty you were.

You don't know when it all fell down, if there ever was a reason - many people told you, at first, that you didn't need a reason to feel the way you did. That was when you tried to talk about it. But this thing inside of you, this black hole, relentless, just took more amplor as time went by. Sucking in everything inside of it. It lasted, and because of that you were now messy, lazy, disorganized. You couldn't take showers for weeks, you hadn't brushed your teeth in months, you wore the same clothes and didn't feel anything strongly enough to cry about it. You didn't have a reason, it made you selfish.

You didn't know if you were. You didn't know anything except the fact you didn't. Plato would be proud.

You gradually fell out of everything: you had hobbies, you had passions, you had people you could somewhat call friends, you had plans for the future until you simply didn't.

At first you tried to blame your parents. You tried to be angry at them, to yell and accuse: it came out in a whisper. You tried to gain their affection, their love, their care but how could you crave something you never experienced? You attempted to make them the perpetrators of the barrenness of your being but the trust was as simple as that: you were the only one guilty for letting the black hole grow until you became one with it.

You tried to kill yourself to see if it would do something interesting to your body.

You were just so numb, and nothing was holding you back, was it? Your grades were dwindling at a dizzying speed, crushing the chances to get into the college you used to dream about when you still went to school, your parents hadn't talked to you in three days, you missed your therapist appointments for a month. If you died, maybe something would finally jolt you back to life. The pills went down your throat so easily. You sat in your full bathtub, letting the splashes of water serenade you to Morpheus' arms.

After that everything was kind of a blur. You don't remember much of the hospital, the drive back home. Everything just fell back into place. You were still a painfully empty shell, only with one more story to tell.

Your therapist prescribed you those improvised vacations for this specific reason: to change your mind about being alive. The thing was you didn't want to die, but you weren't that attached to life either - you just were. Apparently it wasn't enough. It never was.

Dr. Sullivan, your therapist, told you this was why you grew so dependant to fiction. They did all the things you were scared to do: they fell in love in a mess of tears and hearbreak, they screamed until their throats gave out, they hated so brightly and cried so ugly. They lived and you didn't. You felt safe in the hollow. Untouched, unharmed. And you searched an exit sign.

She was wrong about that. About most things, really, you stopped listening to her a while ago. You didn't feel safe in the desolation, you were safe. You didn't hunt for an out, you've gotten used to it, why would you put yourself through the hardship of changing something so stable? The vacantness grew comfortable. It was just you, now. The endless black hole.

A cold tear fell down your cheek onto the sand. It was something that often happened: your body translated emotions your heart and guts didn't communicate to you. Unless it activated your fight-or-flight response, you automatically tried to push it down.

You would wipe it away but the run pumped you all out of strength: every muscles in your body implored for you to leave them alone, your mind was too exhausted to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, and your eyelids grew heavy and solid as rocks. You'd worry about the consequences of your action tomorrow morning. Even if, deep down, you knew no one concerned themselves enough with you for you to actually have an effect on the world.

The sound of the waves, growing more and more intense, coaxed you to sleep like a familiar lullaby. The feeling of the salt water brushing against your fingertips took the role of a blanket, if not a shield, against the rest of the world.

And just like that, you were gone.

[majoryeager104]

hiiii i 💗 how you write Touya !!! Could you pls write something where he introduces his s/o to his mom + siblings (like AU where he stays and enji is out of their lives and everyone is happy🤞)?? Just some fluff maybe him getting all embarrassed his s/o is a total sweetheart so rei absolutely adores them hehehe

oooomg I love these sm yes

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“Do you wanna meet my family?”

He said it so casually that you couldn’t help but stare. The two of you had been dating for months, and the way he asked you made it seem like it was no big deal, at least to him.

But unbeknownst to you, it was a big deal to him.

And so when you agreed, he gave you a quick smile and began making arrangements for you to come for dinner that weekend. He called Fuyumi, who would have been there anyways, and she was ecstatic. He texted Natsuo, who reluctantly (not really) agreed to show up. He knocked on Shoto’s door and told him that you were coming, to which he smiled because he thought you were cool. And lastly, he told his mom, who was just as excited as Fuyumi, but maybe a little more laid back about it. (Once again not really she was smiling about it for the rest of the day)

When Saturday came, the whole Todoroki family was in the kitchen working together and waiting for you two to show up. Even Natsuo was excited. He’d heard tons about you from Touya, so he already had a pretty good idea of what you’d be like, but seeing the rest of the family, especially Rei, so excited to meet you, he couldn’t help it if the same energy rubbed off on him.

Soon enough the doorbell rang, and Fuyumi was the first to get there, as per usual. “Hey you two! Welcome in!” She smiled, introducing herself to you with an excited glint in her eyes. Touya watched with a small, content smile as you all met each other. It was all the people he cared about- no, loved most, gathered around with big smiles on their faces. No wonder he was smiling too.

And Rei was totally blown away.

“so how’d the two of you meet?” She asked with her usual small smile

You answered with a smile as well. “um, we met at my favorite cafe”

Shoto butted in with a quick “isn’t that like a romance movie thing?”

To which Natsuo pulled him aside and said “absolutely but it happens in real life too.”

And Shoto nodded with that perplexed look for a moment before looking at Touya, who’d been standing in the background the whole time. “So do you love her then?”

Touya blushed. Natsuo facepalmed. Shoto stared blankly. Fuyumi giggled with you. Rei stayed quiet.

“Yes?? Obviously- I guess- I mean, I brought her over didn’t I?”

Touya babbled on, his face and ears getting more tinged with pink by the second. He stuttered off into silence, looking at you, you who was currently smiling at him with a blush crawling across your face as well.

Rei looked between the two of you and laughed. It wasn’t a common thing to see her so expressive, like Shoto she was a difficult person to read, and yet, she let down those walls of hers for this moment. Because it was sweet, she thought, and because she was really beginning to enjoy your company.

For the rest of the evening, while Touya told random stories of silly moments during your time together, you found yourself chatting with Rei more and more, her smile and mood only growing brighter the more she got to know you. You were sweet. Really sweet. You reminded her of herself when she was your age, always gentle and polite, and happy to do so. Unlike with her own relationships, knowing Touya she was sure he would keep that smile on your face.

As the hours past, and it got darker, you got up to head home. Everyone walked with you to say goodbye at the door, and Rei and Fuyumi both snuck a quick little hug from you, shuffling the rest of them out to give you a moment with Touya. Natsuo wiggled his eyebrows at Touya as he left, leaving Shoto confused at Touya’s current expression as he was dragged around the corner by his sister.

“so what’d you think?”

“they were great! And really sweet! I’m glad I got to meet your family”

“yeah..me too.”

Touya was quiet, leaning on the doorframe before taking your hand and walking you outside, kissing you goodnight as he walked you to your car, his hands in his pockets as he watched you drive away in the chill of the night.

“…love you”

he said it quietly, deep in thought as he watched you turn the corner, not realizing his mother was smiling at him from the doorway.

“Touya?”

she called him with her usual graceful tones, spooking him a bit as he turned to look at her.

“you should bring y/n around more often…i really like her”

Touya chuckled, walking in the door with her, a big smile plastered on his face.

“I will. Im sure she’d love that, too”

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Shoto my clueless icon 🙏🙏🙏

Also why do I always imagine Rei to be fucking ethereal (bc she is)

Kinda short and there’s not a crazy amount of dialogue but I hoped you liked it, I’ve been having trouble finding the inspo and energy to write lately, so I apologize.

Banner creds to artist! (If anyone recognizes the artist lmk)

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 20)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

- - - - -

I snatch my bookbag as I hurry out of my bedroom and down the hall. If I want to avoid having this conversation, I've got to make my rush look convincing!

"Hey, sweetheart," Dad says when he sees me enter the living room. "What's the big hurry? You've got plenty of time before school starts!"

"Y-yeah, I know," I say, trying the handle to the front door of our apartment. It's locked. "I just wanted to get there early to catch up some more with Brittney."

Dad chuckles. "Well, if you leave this early, you're still going to be waiting for the school to open when you get there!"

"Not a problem! I'm fine with that," I say as I turn the lock on the door and open it.

"Kaylin, come now. It's far too early to be leaving for school. You haven't even had— Aah!" he flinches when two golden brown slices of bread arise from the toaster with a sudden pop.

I can't help but smile. Dad's generally pretty fearless, often to the point of being reckless. Seeing him get scared by some toast is so out of character that I can't help but laugh.

Dad clears his throat and pushes up his glasses. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," he says, eyeing the toast, "you haven't even had any breakfast. Come on, I'll make you some toast."

I look between Dad and the door. If I stay, he's sure to want to pick up where we left off last night. Talking about school is the last thing I want to do! Yet the more I stand here, the more the emptiness in my gut begs me to eat something. Heaving a sigh, I set down my bookbag and close the door.

"So," Dad begins in a tone that can only begin to hint at all the questions he must have for me. "How are you feeling about school?"

"It's... okay," I say as I sit myself down at the kitchen table, trying to bury any complex feelings I have about the whole 'being completely blindsided by your own dad and sent to a school full of the very people you live in fear of' thing.

"Just okay?" he asks, looking back at me as he butters the toast. "You seemed pretty eager to head out the door just a second ago."

"Yeah, well... it's complicated." I say, turning my eyes to the table. "There's things I like, and... things I don't."

Dad hums in response, smothering an already buttery slice of toast with what looks to be enough raspberry jam for two separate slices. "Well, what sorts of things do you like about school?"

I move my jaw from side to side, growing more frustrated the harder I try to think of something about Pacific that I actually like that won't result in Dad bombarding me with more and more questions. I like talking with Brittney, and in spite of my fear I actually somewhat like being Derrick's deskmate— although I'd rather not be surrounded by other pertheans at school. Whenever a perthean student speaks up or even coughs in class, it sends shivers down my spine! And I really like being friends with Derrick, but I can't help but wish he was human. If he were human, I wouldn't be so terrified of him. I hate that I'm still scared of him, because I really do value the friendship we've been developing over the past few weeks.

"How about your friends?" Dad asks, setting a plate of toast in front of me. "Didn't you say you'd been hanging out with your deskmate?"

A knot forms in my core. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.

"Y-yeah," I say, hoping he'll drop the topic if I respond.

Dad pulls up a chair across from me. "Why don't you tell me about your deskmate? Darren, right?"

"D-Derrick," I correct him.

"Right. Why don't you tell me about him? What's he like?" Dad asks, propping his head onto his hands like a teenage girl at a slumber party waiting to hear the latest gossip.

I try to keep a straight face, but a chuckle escapes me. Dad never ceases to surprise me!

"U-um, well, he's... nice," I start. "We both like Aven Gem games like Flower Town, and we both have FlexPads."

Dad nods, encouraging me to continue.

"He likes to study languages, and he's really good at Koronian," I say. "I think he wants to teach English in North Eris one day."

"That's nice. He sounds like a good kid," Dad says. "So what do the two of you usually do together?"

My heart sinks, and blood drains from my face. How am I supposed to answer that? Should I tell him Derrick is helping me with my fear? No, that'll be a huge win for him for sure!

I don't know why, but when I think about Dad hearing positive things about my experience at Pacific, I can't help but imagine him giving himself a huge pat on the back. I can't let him win this one, not when he lied to me about the move and completely blindsided me by enrolling me in this school. Even if I got lucky with Derrick, sending me to Pacific was still a terrible idea, and I'm not about to let Dad take the credit for what Derrick and I have been accomplishing.

"Well, we've studied together. We also just... um... talk," I say.

"Hm. And what sorts of things do you talk about?" Dad asks.

"Uh... j-just about anything! School, video games, movies..."

"And does he know about your fear?"

Why is he cornering me like this? Why is he so desperate to pry into this area of my life?

"Does it matter?" I retort, turning my attention to the toast in front of me and taking a bite. There's too much jam, but it tastes good mixed with the butter, so I don't mind.

Dad leans back in his chair. "Whether or not you tell him about your fear is up to you, but I think it would benefit the two of you to be on the same page."

I remain silent, taking another bite of toast.

"Do you plan on telling him?" Dad asks.

My insides twist as I look down, searching for the right thing to say. I come up empty.

Dad leans forward. "Does he already know?"

"Dad, I... I don't want to talk about this anymore." I manage, setting down my toast and clenching my jaw. Why is he doing this?

Dad sighs. "I get it, I do. Being at this school isn't easy for you. But I want you to know that you can talk to me about it, okay?"

"But you don't get it, Dad!" I hiss, standing up and planting my hands on the table. "You've never had a fear like mine! That's why you thought you could just send me to a school like Pacific and make me get over it!"

"That's not true," Dad says, crossing his arms.

"You want a quick fix for something that's plagued me all my life, but I can't get over my fear if I'm drowning in it," I utter, my voice cracking. "If you really cared, you'd leave me alone instead of throwing me to the wolves!"

Eyes glazing over, I turn and march toward the front door, leaving Dad behind at the kitchen table.

"Kaylin," Dad says, his tone growing more serious. "I don't want a quick fix for you or to throw you to the wolves. It's because I care about you that I want you to grow!"

"Forcing me to be around pertheans isn't going to undo what I saw!" I yell, slamming the door behind me as I exit the apartment.

My vision blurs as I head down the hall, and I blink away the tears that try to form. Dad's ignorance about my fear drives me up the wall! He knows what I saw and what I had to go through because of it, and he still thinks I can just get over it like an old habit!

The elevator door opens when I press the call button, and I sigh as I step inside. What am I going to do?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I let out a yawn as I wander down Seren Avenue, my eyelids still drooping from a lack of sleep. Why did I have to get up so early?

I gaze at the skylights above me, hoping the undercity's artificial lighting will be enough to help keep me awake. The screens display flowering trees reaching up towards a cloudy sky. Back in Maedri, the skylights displayed cherry blossoms during the springtime. Although the trees on these skylights do have some flowers, they're mostly filled with green leaves that pale in comparison to the beautiful shades of pink I'm used to seeing at the start of each year. I miss those old skylights. I miss Maedri.

I amble through the undercity, eyes fixed on the nature scene above. That's when something bumps into me from behind.

"Ah—! I'm sorry!" the boy behind me utters. His black hair and wide green eyes are all too familiar, and I immediately recognize the green blazer he's wearing as being from Pacific.

"Oh," he says, his eyes suddenly narrowing as his voice deepens. "It's just you."

"Y-yeah. Sam, right?" I ask.

He nods.

"This is the second time you've bumped into me. Don't you usually wear glasses?" I ask. "You'd be able to see where you're going with them on."

Sam's face reddens as he turns his gaze to the floor. "I... I look cooler without them."

"You should at least wear contacts so you can—" I start, only to be cut off by Sam weaving around me and running off. "Hey!"

I run after him, and am nearly out of breath by the time I catch up with him.

"Can I help you?" he asks flatly.

"Can I ask you something?"

He sighs, not even stopping or turning to face me. "I guess."

"Why are you always speeding off? Did I do something wrong?" I ask.

"That's two questions," he states, annoyed.

"Sorry."

"Look," he says, finally turning his head back to address me. "I'm not great with people, okay? I prefer to be alone."

"Is that why you're at Pacific?" I ask, my curiosity growing.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean—" he stumbles over his words before letting out another sigh. "I have my own reasons for going."

I suppose Pacific looks good on university applications, being a private school and all.

"Is that why you're at Pacific?" he turns the question back to me.

"I-I... well, sort of. My dad made me go."

"Ugh. My parents made me go, too."

"I thought you had your own reasons for going," I say, raising an eyebrow.

"I—! I do! It's just... since we moved here from Erimathea, they wanted to make sure I was... adjusting."

"Adjusting?" I ask.

"You know, to the whole... different sizes thing," he states.

"I guess it's sort of the same for me," I say. "I've lived most of my life in the undercity, so I've never really been around pertheans. It's... a difficult adjustment."

"It can be hard," Sam says, focusing on the path ahead of us. "And on top of that, I can't really talk to anyone about it without looking like I have something against pertheans."

"Tell me about it," I huff. "And the weirdest part is that other humans get so defensive when you tell them you're afraid of pertheans. They act like we're making us all look bad or something."

Sam stops dead in his tracks, nearly causing me to bump into him. "What did you just say?" he asks, turning around slowly.

Wait, what did I just say?! Did I let myself carelessly spill my biggest secret to some near stranger?!

"Uh—! I—!" I stutter, backing up from the boy in front of me.

"Did you just say you have—"

"I have to go!" I blurt out before darting around Sam and continuing toward the school.

"Wait!"

Something in me gives in, and I come to a slow stop a few yards in front of Sam. What am I doing? He's just going to tell me off!

A moment of silence passes us by. It dares me to turn around and face the boy behind me, but I can't.

"I... I thought I was the only one," he finally says.

I spin around. "W-what?" I ask, confusion setting in as I ponder what he could possibly mean. "The only one who...?"

"The only one who had... a fear," he finishes.

My eyes widen, and I take a few steps toward Sam. "You mean... you have a fear, too?"

He sighs, looking off to the side before returning his gaze to me. "Didn't I just say that?"

"I've never met anyone else with a fear of pertheans," I whisper as questions begin to flood my mind.

"Neither have I," he says, shifting in place.

"Have you ever told anyone?" I ask.

Sam cranes his neck back and stares at the skylights. "My parents know... and that only resulted in some pretty useless therapy."

"Useless, huh?" I say as we continue our walk.

"Yeah, all they really tell you in therapy is to expose yourself to your fears and hope things improve."

"I guess I had the same experience. My dad always says things will improve with exposure and time. I think he stole that line from my old therapist. I was too young to remember most of what she taught me," I say, rubbing one arm.

"So you struggled as a kid?"

"Yeah... when they started mixing humans and pertheans back in stage two, I would often have panic attacks at school," I cringe as my mind fills with unwanted memories. "The others would call me 'Kaylin Flinch,' or 'Flinching Finch.'"

"Kids can be brutal," Sam sighs.

"Yeah. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you had a fear?"

Sam narrows his eyes. "Since around the time I moved here, right before stage four. I tried a few different schools to see if exposure could help. Some were mixed, some were not. But no amount of exposure ever really helped."

I shift my gaze to the floor. What if Dad is wrong? Not that I want him to have something he can gloat about, but what if exposure and time aren't the keys to getting over my fear of pertheans? What if all the time I'm spending with Derrick after school isn't going to help me after all?

Sam stops, so I stop too. I look up, and above us is the sign for Pacific, dimly lit and weathered as usual. It's odd how something can decay like that when it's underground, completely unexposed to the elements of the surface world.

I look at Sam, and immediately, something feels off. The softness in his eyes has all but disappeared, and his posture is oddly stiff. I can't quite explain it, but there seems to be some kind of odd, dark energy emanating from him. I take a step back.

"Sam?" I try.

He opens the door to the school's lobby. "I have to go," he mumbles.

"So soon? We can at least walk out to the pick-up balcony together—"

"No," he interrupts, clutching the strap of his bookbag. "I-I'll... I'll see you later."

With that, he scurries off across the room and up a creepy old stairwell. Those stairs lead to the school's human hallways just like the elevators do, but I've never seen anyone take them. I sigh and enter an opening elevator with some other students. Will I ever understand this guy?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Taking a deep breath, I close my locker and adjust the strap of my bookbag. I haven't seen Sam since he managed to scurry off again, and something tells me I'm not going to for a while, no matter how curious I am about what's going on in his head. I thought it'd be nice to have a friend who understands what having a fear is like, but I don't imagine this guy really wants anything to do with me.

The balcony is crowded as usual, and I'm surprised when I see Derrick standing beside it. Usually, I have to search for a while to pick him out of the perthean crowd. Kevin is standing beside him with Brittney on his shoulder. A smile spreads across my face, and I hurry over to the group.

"It's good that you came back in spite of all that," Kevin says to Derrick.

"I'll still never forgive that jerk for what he did to you, though!" Brittney huffs.

I stop. What are they talking about? My heart races as I look around me for some place to hide. I decide to hide at the end of the balcony, where there's a perthean-sized plant of some kind, with long green leaves that are tall enough to keep me hidden. I just hope nobody peers around the plant and sees me!

"I'm sure he didn't withdraw just to hurt me," Derrick whispers. "It was complicated."

Wait, is he talking about his previous deskmate? The one he said had moved away?

"Well, whatever the reason, he had no right to just abandon you," Brittney says. "You two were the talk of the school for weeks after you both left!"

Derrick shuffles. "I know, but—"

"And now that you're back, people are starting to wonder if something's going to happen to Kaylin," Brittney says.

People are talking about Derrick and I? Whatever for?! What could possibly happen to me that would cause me to withdraw?

What did Derrick do to his old deskmate?!

Before I have much of a chance to think, something pulls me up into the air by the back of my blazer! My gut twists and churns, and what little breakfast I managed to get down threatens to reappear. The room spins as I kick and scream, hoping to get away from whoever snatched me up without so much as a warning.

I gaze beside me and realize my mistake when I see that Derrick, Brittney, and Kevin are all looking in my direction with wide eyes, just like everyone else in the room.

"Cherryn! Calm down! It's just me!" bellows a deep feminine voice above me as I'm placed onto a warm, leathery surface. "Look, I'm sorry I freaked you out! I won't do it again!"

My heart pounds a thousand times a minute as I look up into a pair of soft brown eyes. They widen when they meet my gaze.

"O-oh my gosh...! You're not Cherryn! I'm so sorry!" the girl apologizes as the hand beneath me begins to shake.

"Kaylin!" calls a familiar voice.

I turn around, arms glued to my trembling frame, and breathe a sigh of relief to see my deskmate approaching.

Wait, Derrick?! What if he realizes I was eavesdropping? Won't he be mad at me?

I quake like a leaf in a windstorm as I'm transferred from one pair of cupped hands to another, the muffled voices overhead conversing as I continue to worry about so many things at once. What's going to happen to me? Can I really trust Derrick?

"Hey," Derrick whispers, bringing the cupped hands I'm in closer to his face. "Are you alright?"

I stare into his eyes with uncertainty. I was starting to feel so sure around Derrick, but now? What am I supposed to think?

"I-I..." I start, reaching up to my face as warm tears begin to fall. "I don't know."

Derrick's brows turn upward, and his eyes soften. "Don't worry. You will be," he says, gently stroking my shoulder with his thumb. "Come on, let's go to class."

[darklove4u]

There is a new farmer in town

Warnings: none

Your grandfather has passed away and thus, the you inherited his farm.

You had left the soul-eating office job at the Joja cooperation behind and took the farm as a new beginning.

You then moved to a town named Pelican.

But first things first, the farm needed a name.

You decided to name it Gothic Farm as you live next to Gotham now.

Might as well blend in with the bleak and monotone mix of colours that Gotham was.

The current mayor of Pelican town, Lewis, welcomed you and you talked a bit about your late grandfather. Apparently, your grandfather had been acting strange in his last months on earth but perhaps that was just the decline of an old mind.

Anyways, you were now the new farmer in town.

You wrote down in your notebook:

Introduce yourself to the neighbours

However, the first thing you did is to get rid of the weeds that overcrowded your ground.

It's noon when you cleared out a big enough area to start creating your first farm area. And that you did.

Afterwards, you decided it is time to buy some seeds and to introduce yourself to anyone that you can find.

The first one you met is the local store owner Pierre, where you also buy some seeds.

Pierre: You must be the new farmer. If you're looking for seeds, my shop is the place to go. Thankfully, we are not as crime ridden as the city next to us, so you don't have to worry about anyone vandalising your fields.

You gave him a short nod and are soon on your way.

You aren't from Gotham but you have heard some things about the city. Mostly bad things.

You were on your way back to the farm as you stumbled across Harvey.

Harvey: Oh, I am sorry for blocking your path. I'm Harvey, the local doctor. It's a pleasure to meet you. Be careful outside at night. We aren't crime ridden but your farm is really close to Gotham.

You thanked the doctor for his advice and are soon back on your farm.

You planted the first seeds, cleaned up the farm some more and then headed to bed.

You were about to fall asleep when you heared sounds from your farm. You still and listen.

At first it sounded like a wild animal but soon you could make out muffled cursing.

That was definitely a human outside on your farm.

You got up and silently moved to your window. You looked outside to try and see who it is.

??: Can anyone hear me? I am stranded... GPS is broken. I don't know where I am... Anyone?

You heard a male voice outside but he's hidden in the shadows of your farm. But the man sounded distressed and in need for help.

You put on your shoes and decided to open your door.

Farmer: Hello? Is anyone there?

You looked outside through the gap of your opened door. You regret that you didn't craft some torches to spend light.

Farmer: Hello?

You tried again and eventually you could make out movement close to your field. A man in a ... suit was standing there, pressing a hand to his left side.

??: Someone lives here? I... I'm fine. Go back inside.

He demanded but his voice sounds weak and was filled with exhaustion. His voice also sounded slightly distorted.

Farmer: You don't sound alright... What are you doing here? You're not... a criminal, right?

The man huffed amused but it sounded more like a pained wheeze.

??: I'm not a criminal. I'm Red Robin, a hero... I shouldn't be here.

He, Red Robin, explained and walked a few steps towards you. However, is legs gave in and he let out a short yell in pain as he fell to the ground.

You ran over and caught his upper half just before he fell unconscious.

[cheshiresense]

Your latest time-travel verse made me rewatch Kyoraku vs Starrk battle over Fake Katakura.

I have to say, over the years, I have forgotten how sad that battle is. The way Starrk mourns even Barragan's death and loses his (already small to begin with) desire to fight after it... The only reason the guy followed Aizen was because Aizen gave him... friends😭 A pack. The only reason he fought was to protect that pack. Doesn't matter if that pack consisted of some shady individuals. It was his. The first and only one he got in all his 1000+ years of existence. He had no desire to strike down his enemies - didn't kill Ukitake, proposed Love and Rose to retreat with their lives... In a way, he and Ichigo are very much alike in that sense.

Starrk was too honorable and naive and paid for that.

And Shunsui killed Lilynette😭 It is so heartrending when Starrk calls out to her with no answer...

Shunsui's philosophy, on the contrary, allows him "to be evil" in order to win. Yes, he does not like war, just like Starrk, but IMHO, "as soon as the war starts both sides are at fault" does not mean Shunsui is saying that both sides are wrong in the war and to not fight till you completely disable / kill your opponent. I think, to paraphrase, it means: "As soon as the war start, to win, both sides *will* have to be evil / There are no good people in a war because winning a war requires one to do evil things, so someone who were maybe a good person will have to become evil to win". This philosophy, basically, is "to unbound his hands" (as we say in our language, meaning when something is used to make a person free to act), a workaround that allows him to be ruthless to his opponents, despite his pacifistic nature.

Anyway, emotional rant over. I guess I just wanted to share my pain🥲 I just hope Shunsui killing a part of Starrk's soul and the only family he had will somehow be addressed between them in the future in your fic's universe. I think it's just too huge to leave out. And the only way I can see Starrk never saying anything at all to his Shunsui in TYBW timeline - is because he is THAT much of a sucker for pain and/or THAT much desperate for a genuine connection with somebody.

Starrk is just a really tragic character with a really tragic arc, canonically he was never meant to be saved or have a chance at something better.

I don't know if I'd call him particularly honourable, if only because that doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'd really think about and adhere to as a Hollow who'd spent his whole life in a place like Hueco Mundo, not in the same way a Shinigami would. I think it was more that he just didn't want to kill anyone when he'd already killed so many without ever having a choice in the matter, and now that he did, he didn't want to keep doing that if he didn't absolutely have to. He was definitely a bit naive about it because it was war, and he was up against one of the most powerful and ruthless Shinigami in existence. The moment he decided to hold back, he was destined to lose.

For Shunsui, I agree, he believes that to win a war, people have to get their hands dirty, and you can't do that and still remain "good". I also think he thinks that it's disrespectful to not do everything in his power to win, because even if that means throwing away his honour, to do anything less means risking the lives of those he's fighting that war for.

Which ties into why I personally think Starrk doesn't really blame Shunsui for Lilynette's death. I think Starrk is smart enough and similar enough to Shunsui to understand him. And why blame Shunsui when he can blame himself? He's the one who held back from the start, he didn't fight as hard as he could, he even had the chance to kill Shunsui if he'd just gone down to finish the job after shooting him instead of just backing off after disabling him, or he could've even shot him somewhere more leathal like the back of the head instead of the shoulder/chest, because at their level, which Shinigami or Hollow wouldn't survive a simple injury like that? He would've also been able to sense full well that Shunsui's reiatsu signature hadn't disappeared. So that choice is on him, and he paid for it with Lilynette's life.

I also think Starrk didn't have much conviction or resolve, I mean I don't think most of the Espada really believed in Aizen's cause, they just followed him for more power or because Aizen tricked them or forced them, and prob with a side of hypnosis to pave the way. So Starrk didn't even have anything concrete to believe in and fight for aside from a debt he felt he had to repay, and that was quickly wearing away when he saw how Aizen didn't give a shit about them.

So overall, he went into battle against Shunsui without any desire to fight or kill because he thought he didn't really have anything he wanted enough to fight for, right up until he lost Lilynette and realized that yeah he did have something precious to lose after all. In contrast, Shunsui was fighting for Soul Society and to protect his fellow Shinigami, and at the time, he definitely understood that far better than Starrk did.

If Starrk had survived, I think he would've understood that too, plus he just doesn't have the kind of temper that lashes out and casts blame on others due to excess emotion; rather, he has the sort of analytical mind to comprehend the cause and effect of things pretty instantly. That would all play a big part in why he wouldn't blame Shunsui for doing what he had to do to take Starrk out. He and Lilynette were one, Shunsui would've had to kill both of them sooner or later, otherwise he might as well lie down and give up, Starrk wasn't exactly an opponent he could take it easy with.

In the time travel verse here, Idk if I'd make it a particularly huge thing, because for Starrk it's been like 10+ years, I imagine he's laid that ghost to rest a long time ago even if the loss still hurts sometimes, plus it's not TBTP!Shunsui who killed her, and i think he would've hashed out the issue with TYBW!Shunsui already at the beginning. Of course, TBTP!Shunsui is bound to find out about it eventually, which could be interesting to poke at.

But in Take What's Broken (Make It Whole), it'll definitely come up sooner or later. Even if Starrk doesn't bring it up first, Shunsui will, and even if there's no blame, I imagine they would at least have to talk about it going forward.

[r3yk]

ex boyfriend! Rindou Haitani x fem!reader

Rindou has been a Bonten of member for the longest time now, he enjoys the time being there with his older brother Ran but there is something he doesn't have and that's you. He thinks of you alot and wants to be with you again after you broke up having a fight. He would do almost everything to get you back with him.

You were still friends with Ran, his older brother and he invited you to go have lunch together. You came to the Bonten’s headquarters waiting for him to finish his meeting with the other executives.

Ran would soon open the door to see you and he had a small smile on his face with a raised eyebrow as he looked down at you.

"So you actually came this time, huh?" He asked with his usual smirk and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Yeah it’s really hot today so i won’t say no to a free lunch!” You smiled at him, too lost into talking with him you didn’t notice Rindou also coming out of the meeting room. You were showing Ran your cute outfit of today, a long sundress with a naked back, perfect for a hot day and perfect to Rindou’s eyes!

Ran kept that smirk as he took in your outfit and he whistled a bit, he found you pretty attractive but he would never dare do anything.

"My my, you're such a tease, huh?"

Ran commented, and Rindou soon stepped out of the room, he spotted you in the sundress showing your figure and stopped completely. Rindou felt his face begin to heat up as his eyes widened. That’s when you noticed him, your smile dropping as you frown at him.

Ran would notice that your smile dropped when you saw Rindou, and he knew it was about to get interesting now. Rindou stared at you with widened eyes and he just took in what you were wearing, he didn’t realise just how revealing and pretty you would look on this hot day.

“Ran you didn’t told me he was here..” You mumbled, crossing your arms under your chest. Ran let out a small chuckle and he folded his arms across his chest.

"Would you have come if I told you Rindou was here?"

He questioned with a smirk. Rindou on the other hand just stayed quiet as he just looked at you, his eyes slowly drifting up to your face from your figure. He was thinking how damn good you look and that it's torture, it's a goddamn torture.

Just as you were gonna reply Sanzu got out of the meeting room and immediately went to you and wrapped his arm around you.

”Heyyy princess what are you doing here?”

Sanzu was always very friendly to you when you were dating Rindou and came to Bonten’s headquarters to visit him.

“Hi Sanzuu!” You replied.

Ran was quite surprised at how Sanzu came up to you and wrapped his arm around you and called you princess, that just pissed Rindou off a little, he just wanted to make Sanzu get away from you.

Ran glanced over at Rindou who was just staring at Sanzu having his arm around you, obviously feeling the jealousy coming from his brother.

"Sanzu, nice of you to join the party."

Ran said with a slight smirk.

“im not joining i have shit to do but it’s always nice to see an angel around here.”

Sanzu smirked at you, as you just smiled at him kindly. Sanzu’s words just made Rindou clenches his fists as he was slowly starting to get really pissed off at Sanzu, who always calls you ‘princess’ or ‘angel’. Rindou really doesn’t like it when other guys talk to you like that except himself and that pissed him off like crazy.

Ran glanced between you and Sanzu with his smirk as he knew that Rindou was getting jealous but he was amused at how much it was affecting his brother. Sanzu’s arm wandered against your waist as he pulled away saying goodbyes and walking to his office.

Rindou really didn’t like seeing Sanzu touch your waist like that, it really made his blood boil but he was at least happy when Sanzu finally left the three of you by yourselves.

Ran glanced at Rindou who was obviously pissed off and he chuckled a bit.

"Oh my, someone’s jealous~"

“Sooo what are we doing here?” You looked at both of them. Ran found the way you said it really cute, he knew you were ignoring the fact that Rindou is really jealous over Sanzu touching you like that.

Rindou was still clenching his fists as he continued to glare in the direction Sanzu went in before he looked at you.

"So? You don’t care that he was just touching you?"

Rindou said, his voice cold and low as he stared you down.

“No? He’s just friendly? Like you were with the girls at the club.” You frowned at him, spilling your venom. Rindou’s eyes widened slightly, he totally forgot of the times where he would talk to girls at the club when you both were together. He had a feeling you would bring it up eventually.

He grits his teeth as he tried to come up with a response back to your venomous comment.

"It's not even the same thing, Princess."

“Don’t call me Princess.” You spat at him.

Hearing those words sting his heart like a knife, he slowly walked up to you, his expression hardening a bit more as he was obviously bothered by you saying that you weren’t his princess anymore. Rindou reached you in a few steps and stopped right in front of you, looking down at you with cold purple eyes. He had his jaw clenched as he replied.

"You used to be mine."

“Yeah and you fucked up big time.”

Rindou’s cold expression slowly hardened even more when you said he ‘fucked up big time’. He was remembering how it was all his fault, how the two of you got into a bad fight, leading to the break up.

He let out a low scoff and reached up to gently grab your chin, his fingers gripping it gently as he locked eyes with you.

"So what, you’re still mad at me?” You swat his hand away turning to Ran for him to get his brother back in his place. ”Maybe i am.”

Ran was just watching the both of  you and he rolled his eyes slightly, he knew he had to calm down his brother before things get heated. Ran stepped in front of you so Rindou was now focused on him.

“Rindou, back off.”

Rindou huffed a bit but he obeyed and he stepped back, giving you space but still looking at you with a hard glare.

“Stop with the glaring dickhead.” You swore angrily.

Rindou’s jaw clenched even tighter when you called him a dickhead, he really hated it when you would call him mean things like that.

"It’s not my fault that I can’t help but glare at you in this damn outfit."

He mumbled, but loud enough for you and Ran to hear. You frowned.

“What.” You were speechless, so now you were the slut for just wearing a dress ?

Rindou’s expression softened slightly at your response and he was beginning to question why you suddenly became defensive.

“Wait.. No, I meant-“

Rindou suddenly cursed himself for not phrasing his words more correctly but Ran was quick to interrupt the two of you.

“Rindou. Shut up and think about what you’re gonna say next.”

“No let him tell me what he thinks but im practically sure i wasn’t the one with a girl on my lap while my girlfriend was cooking for me at home.” You bit back.

Rindou tensed up and his body went still. He knew that you were bringing up the incident about the club when he had a girl on his lap while you were waiting for him at home after cooking his favourite meal.

Rindou clenched his jaw and his cold glare returned as he didn’t say a word, he just stared at you, silently listening to what you’re saying.

“What ? You’re silent now ?”

Rindou’s expression darkened as you continued to call him out. He was quiet for a few more moments before he gritted his teeth and finally spoke.

“What are you trying to do here, trying to guilt trip me or something?”

“no im trying to let you understand how a dick you were and that you cant talk about who touches me and how i dress.” You frowned.

Rindou’s body tensed up once more as you called him a dick again. He knew that he was at fault for the breakup but that doesn’t mean he can’t hate to see other guys touch you and call you cute nicknames like that.

“That’s different. You’re my-..”

He suddenly stopped himself before he could finish his sentence as he suddenly remembered that you weren’t his anymore.

“your what now?” You looked at Ran who was still between you guys, waiting for him to take your side.

Ran was just watching the interaction between you and Rindou but he couldn’t help but smirk a little at Rindou’s reaction to your words.

Rindou gritted his teeth at Ran’s smirk and he stayed quiet for a bit before finally he muttered the words.

”My girlfriend….”

He mumbled, clearly struggling the admit that you were no longer his.

“i hope you think about what you’ve done everyday till you die.” That was your last straw as you walked away, Forget about lunch.

Rindou’s eyes widened when you suddenly said those last words before walking away, and it felt like a knife stabbed through his heart.

“Hey wait-“

He quickly tried to call out to you but he was interrupted by Ran who had blocked his path, stopping him from going after you.

“Rindou should really stop acting like a crazy ex and let her live..” Ran mumbled to him. Rindou clenched his jaw as he tried to push past Ran’s arm but Ran remained motionless.

“I-… But I..”

He mumbled, not knowing what to say or do. He just let out a huff as he slumped his shoulders in defeat, his eyes glancing up to look at your departing figure.

You later walked to your apartment, crying, you still loved Rindou but Gods he was such an asshole. The rest of the day goes on, you just stayed into your bedroom crying. While on the other end, throughout the rest of the day, Rindou would sit in his office and think about all the things he did wrong. He really hated himself for it, he hated himself for letting you go, he hated himself for being the reason why the two of you broke up.

He just couldn’t get your words out of his mind. The way you told him to think about him and what he did every day till he died, the way you called him a dick..

You then remember that you shouldn’t let your soulmate go away like that, you’ve got the proof that the girl that was on his lap, was just a bitch who was rapidly shrugged off Rindou, but that was enough for you back there to think he was cheating. You decided to call him.

Rindou was sitting in his office, staring out the window with a blank expression before he was snapped out of his thoughts when his phone rang out. He immediately fished it out of his pocket when he saw your number.

He was quick to pick up and answer, raising it to his ear.

“Rindou..?” You mumbled through the other end.

Rindou felt his heart clench at the sound of your voice, he immediately recognised it.

“Yeah.. It’s me princess…”

He mumbled back, the old nickname slipping out of his lips.

“come home..I need you.” You sniffed, you see, Rindou left you and your old apartment that you owned together to you. It’s was a home to the both of you.

Rindou’s eyes widened slightly when he heard your request and the way you sounded on the line.

“Yeah.. Yeah okay.. I’ll be there..”

He said, immediately standing up from his chair getting ready to come to your apartment. You hang up and went back to sleep waiting for him.

Rindou quickly rushed out of his office, not bothering to say anything to Ran as he walked out of the headquarters building and into his car.

He drove to your apartment as fast as he could, the whole drive his mind was replaying your conversation with him earlier, your words was still stuck in his mind, and it hurt him a lot that it’s his entire fault for everything. When he finally arrived at your home, he quickly got out of the car and locked it before swiftly walking up to the front door of your apartment.

Rindou took a deep breath to calm himself before he reached up to knock on your door with his cold knuckles. You heard the sound and got up to open the door, dressed in a short nightgown and your hair in a bun. You looked like a mess as You opened the door.

Rindou’s eyes widened a bit when he was met with your figure and your appearance, it was different from how you looked earlier in your sundress. He hadn’t seen you like this before, messy and unkempt.

He slowly stepped closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face, he didn’t know what to say, he had so many things he wanted to say to you but he was silent for a few moments before he finally spoke up.

“You called for me…?” You nodded, immediately jumping into his arms, lips crashing together. Your arms wrap around his neck and legs around his waist. Rindou was taken by surprise when you suddenly kissed him but it took him a few moments to return it, his arms quickly snaked around your waist to hold you close and support you so you didn’t fall off him.

He started to slowly walk forwards, walking you both back into your apartment while having your lips pressed against his in a hungry kiss. He closed the front door with his feet before going to you guys bedroom, he knew the way by heart.

When the two of you reached the bedroom, Rindou quickly laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over you. His cold hands slowly started to trail down your body, caressing every inch of your skin in a silent act of worship, just like the old times.

That’s how you guys finished having the best make up sex, You were now resting against him, You didn’t even talked yet.

Rindou was lying down on the bed, still trying to catch his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. You were now lying on top of him, your head resting against his shoulder as you slowly drifted to sleep. Rindou slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. He was slowly moving his hand up and down your back to smoothe you to sleep.

“i still love you..”

Rindou tensed up a bit when he heard your soft voice, his hand around your back slowly came to a stop as he glanced at you.

He was silent for a few moments before he finally spoke in a soft voice.

“.. I still love you too, Princess…”

He mumbled, holding you closer to him, he missed the feeling of your body against him.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“i forgive you..Ran told me how much it bothered you and how much you actually loved me..and that it was the girl who sat on your lap but you immediately pushed her off..”

Rindou was silent for a few moments, he was processing your words before his expression suddenly softened, and he slowly let out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding.

“You forgive me..?”

It was the only thing he managed to say, he couldn’t help but feel relieved hearing that you finally knew the truth and that you’ve forgiven him for his mistake. Rindou’s arms around you tightened, holding you even closer to him now.

“Yes..but if that happens again im killing you..Sanzu told me how to hide a body..” You joked half asleep.

Rindou couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your small joke, he actually forgot that you managed to be friends with Sanzu. But Rindou quickly got serious and tightened his arms once more around you, he wouldn’t allow you to ever go out of his sight again.

“That won’t happen again… I’ll never make that mistake again.. I promise.”

He mumbled, his voice was deep and soft, he buried his face into your hair and inhaled your scent.

“Then im yours..”

[guinevereslancelot]

being the youngest person at work is being the honorary IT specialist despite knowing basically nothing abt technology except how to use google

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Me and friend watched Rise of Red and have uh, two reviews: *It was a movie. *Descendants 3 actually looks more appealing as a movie then this...movie.

[sortanonymous]

Wait, they're making another one? Oh-kaaayyyy... Not holding my breath, but hopefully it's at least better than the $h!tshow that was the second movie. (Even if that "version" of Silver is still there.) If it's any consolation, I don't know how much Sega is involved with the Sonic movies, but if it's a good bit, then maybe they can help out! At the very least, there's this amazing comment under the reveal teaser. (GOLDEN ISLAND MENTIONED)