#maybe he's born with it maybe it's the soul crushing childhood trauma

[sonofsin]

sexuality is so weird

[gojos-thot-patrol]

nah because giving birth to sukuna’s son, a little baby boy who looks like him, and watching you love and adore the little bean with all your heart and soul; you sing and hum to the little bean, celebrate every accomplishment no matter how small it is (big burp? what a good boy! ate so much!), carrying him snuggly in your arms as you talk about every flower you spot in the gardens (even when he’s asleep). nicknaming your son your little miracle, your little twinkling star and sukuna understanding maybe it wasn’t him, an innocent child back then, but awful circumstances and the wrong people around him.

Nonny, your brain is so big, and so sexy, and so electric and AHH-

He wasn't sure at first when you got pregnant. He knew what his childhood was like, and the notion of bringing another person in this world was sickening because of it.

When his son was born, he was crushed. The small child looked exactly like Ryomen, just as Ryomen had looked like his father. It was a face that was historically unlovable, a face that was historically cursed. And it crushed him because he already wanted nothing but the best for him.

His worries were quickly brushed aside as he saw you reach for you son. The love in your eyes as you doted on him, smiling with pride at your strange creation. You already held so much more warmth than his mother ever did. Maybe this kid had a chance.

His son is like him in more than looks. His son is exactly like him in behavior too. Meaning he's not the easiest kid to handle. He's fussy in the night, demanding during the day. A tike in need of constant attention. Sukuna was sure you would grow to resent the rug rat, and in turn him for giving you the child.

Yeah, that never happened. You never raised an unloving hand to your child, you rarely even raised your voice. You treated him with the same love and care you always had. Your gentle sweetness never faded. It left Ryomen floored.

Because if you could forgive his son, assure him that "that's just how babies are!" And that it would never be your "little miracles" fault, then shit why didn't his mom ever forgive him? Why was it always his fault? He was just doing what babies do.

The realization that Ryomen wasn't actually a burden, just a small child that didn't ask to be born, and that his parents were actually the villian hits him like a truck. It went against everything he had ever been taught, but it made such clear sense. In a weird way it felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He didn't have to carry around the guilt anymore.

Slowly, Ryomen learns to heal his trauma while raising his own son. A son that he hopes to one day be a better man than he ever was. A son who knows love, and caring. With a mother who never faltered in her adoration of her family.

Ryomen was worried a child would ruin what you two had built, but in reality the baby only made everything stronger. He lived and cherished his family, more than he'd ever be able to express. He's so grateful for his son, his son who helped him in ways he'd never understand, that he's not even entirely opposed to the idea when you suggest child number two.

[suguru-getos]

| Aftermath | Keigo Takami x f!TherapistReader |

-> chapter one

summary: hawks who has just lost his quirk in the war & coping with his life as a quirkless man, decides to finally listen to his own self & seek therapy. why did he choose a quirkless therapist? maybe to seek solidarity— or maybe, he hoped you’d not judge him.

warnings: therapy, childhood!trauma, bnha!spoilers, mentions of inner child healing, keigo talks about his childhood, mentions of toxic!parenting, cocky!kei as always.

a/n: don't mind me giving my comfort character and my loml some healing lmaooo <33 i had sm fun writing this istg it made my heart warm. this is a slow burn fic, and the reader is a self-insert on some points because i can get self indulgent tehee!!

You wandered aimlessly, looking around the suite-like cabin and then down the skyline. Tokyo was always beautiful, even now when winters had just started to greet. There was a foggy blanket of clouds covering the labyrinth of buildings and you could never get over it. With your next client, it was obvious your thoughts were along the lines of… an Angel flying out in the skies keeping everyone safe, now reduced to someone without wings. Still an Angel though, but that's what you think. Maybe he doesn't.

You grimly sighed when your eyes wandered at the clock, there were still 30 minutes to your appointment, normally… someone like you would never get the opportunity to deal with heroes so popular. Hawks was a no show after the war, people thought he had died. People thought he left Japan for good. Though a faint glimmer of hope always made you want to believe he's still around. To your surprise when he was your client, you felt a knot on your stomach churn with anticipation and excitement.

You sat on your velvety chair, the lights dim and comfortable to the modernized architecture of your office. You gulped, opening his file and looking at the passport photograph of him. The scar he got in one of the fights in which a villain named Dabi publicized his kill was there, siren eyes staring into your very soul were there. How could you even try to open up someone who looks so ethereal and so threatening at the same time. You feel just as nervous as your first time, the personality that Hawks carries eating away at you slowly. You shook your head, jerking the thoughts away. Be professional, he is a client and you're doing your job.

If you hadn't been so dazed by your favorite hero and your crush; you were quite a number yourself. Cut-throat, not afraid to walk the talk, stern, fierce, kind and disciplined. People respect you and you command it when they don't. Not afraid to force someone to bend the knee if they indulge in animosity with you. It's just… Hawks was someone you admired oh-so-much! You had his merch and posters after all. Not that he would get to know that, oh no. That'd never happen.

Takami Keigo, 26, Born on December 28th. Blood group B+, MBTI-> ENTP, Schooling and training and everything was blank. Difficult, this would be a difficult case to deal with.

How did you fangirl over him? Well, that's perhaps for another day.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. He's here." Your assistant opened the door with a knock and you felt your stomach sink, biting your lip nervously and clearing your throat to gain composure.

"Hey there doc!" there he was, with his magical grin and long palms raised up to his eye level as he waved. Wearing denims and a loose fitted white T-Shirt. Casual, cute, confident.

"Oh hello Hawks!" You manifested the same energy, greeting him respectfully by standing up and bowing a little. "Jeez, can't get rid of the name yet huh?" He chuckles, though your mind has already starting to process if it was a fake one, the carefully crafted hero chuckle or was he genuinely this chill.

"I don't think so, whether or not you do hero work, you own the name." you responded with a smile, ushering him to take his seat. Oh he manspreads, leaning back and getting comfortable. Makes you wonder if he can see through the cracks of your personality just as you're trying to see in his. Who will unfold who first…

You closed the client book you had, looking into the beautiful goldens of his eyes and making eye contact. "So, I know the first session is usually the most awkward one. People try to get to know their shrink before letting themselves to open up." You glanced, and Hawks looked like he would devour you whole. He looked invested in your words, not in a faking concentration way… in a 'I will listen to what you have to say' way.

"Allow me to share some stuff about myself then, my name is Y/N. I am a therapist good morning. Apart from that, I like to participate in various hobbies like kickboxing, journalling, playing games, spending time with my cat, yada yada. I am an INTJ, I think MBTI has started taking the same wavelength in Japan as Korea huh? Everyone's obsessed with em' I think."

"Well" Hawks clicked his tongue, clearly unamused by your introduction, it was brief and curt. Not a fair deal for someone who will unravel him… then again, you are his therapist, not vice versa.

"I think so too, do you know, a lot of the fans pretend to be INTJs because they tend to be compatible with ENTPs?" He chuckled, rolling his eyes. God he does know everything… there was a whole article about this. "We could do the quiz together if you have your concerns." "Shyeah- no, I don't. Just sharin' yknow?" he winked, noticing how you nervously pressed your legs together. He was wearing Killian's Angel Share, and Bad Boy… one of your favorite scents & the effects were almost affecting you almost at a subconscious level.

"Mkay, gotcha! So, anyways… I don't want to force you to open up, take your time in it. Let's start simple. How are you?" You asked Hawks, and for a moment, the barest of seconds, you could see his eyes turn to a void. "Yeah, good, never been better you know? Vacationing now that I have a sick ton of money with practically nothin' to do. Ain't gonna waste it otherwise by being depressed."

You clicked your tongue, oh he would not open up huh? Well, not that you expected this to be an easy ride either. "Yeah, of course. Money does help… helps everyone. At the end of the day I'm sitting on this chair to be paid a hefty by you." You hum, crossing your legs and getting comfortable too. This would be a fierce mental war already. From the determination of a hero and from a healer who's been sought out by the same hero.

"Then again, it isn't everything."

Oh except if you could tell that to childhood Hawks, it was… it was everything. His eyes pale with the answer a little. "Led a very comfortable life haven't you?" He smirked, giving you a miniscule opening.

"Yeah, luckily." You responded, smiling… "Clearly you haven't."

Hawks stood silent at that, and that was an answer enough.

"You were a rich kid since you started your agency, was this your teens or childhood?" Before Hawks could decipher, the session had already begun.

"Well, I was the viral news subject after they found out I was Thief Takami's son." He raised a brow, and you nodded. "Shitty murderer dad, mum?" You felt bad on being so professional, but you also felt Hawks would push you away if you were too kind. Some people have stopped treating him as a person ever since All for One had taken his quirk away.

"Mum was well, absent, mentally." He responded, and shrugged. "Dad was abusive, used to beat me up as a child and mum was too engrossed in her own shit I suppose. Happy for her that she has a new life with a new husband and new kids." It was amusing how Hawks didn't sound salty about it… it could only mean detachment to the finest. A befitting coping mechanism.

"You didn't have to go through that, I'm guessing if I needed to ever, talk to baby Hawks, I can't have a childhood photograph?" You glanced hopefully. "Nah, not a single childhood photograph. Dad was too paranoid of things and mum didn't care."

"We usually uh, have this exercise you know? That you'd keep a picture of your childhood self at your bathroom mirror and remember who you're talking about whenever you feel self-doubt." You smiled, looking into his eyes with empathy but no pity.

"Well, too bad." He chuckled, embarrassed and definitely not liking this emotion.

"Who cares at the end of the day, it's just the first few years of your life." He responded again balming his own thoughts more so than talking to you.

"Yeah, but every phase of our life is important. When your father abused you, hit you, didn't you feel enraged? Or scared? Or both?" You bit your lip, trying to mentally detach as much as possible.

"I felt nothing. I just wanted to not end up like them. If I was as angry as him, then I would become like him. Even my childhood self knew I'm better than that." There was pride in his eyes when he said so.

"True, yes, however… no expectations from your mum to save you?" Hawks shook his head no, shrugging. "She'd get beaten up too."

You nodded, not writing anything down on the paper just yet.

"Alright, I want you to do something for me." He raised a brow when you said that, "I don't want us to traverse further until you try doing this, mkay?" You grinned, "Imagine someone coming to your home, breaking the door at the moment of your abuse, that someone is you. The big, pro hero, you. Then, I'd like you to hold little Keigo's hand, and take him out. How about that?"

Hawks gave you an expression which was a mixture of 'How absurd' and 'Interesting'.

"Do that for me, and do that as many times and in as many scenarios you feel like you needed to be protected. You needed to be healed from." You coo softly… meanwhile Hawks' brain lagged at you saying 'Little Keigo'. So far he thought you didn't know his name… despite it being telecasted worldwide. No, you just refer to old Keigo as Hawks, but little Keigo isn't Hawks… he's just Keigo.

Was he reading too much into this? Would you soon bridge the gap between little Keigo and Hawks? Would you call him Keigo too?

The alarm clock chimed, time was over. You glanced at it and then back at him. "Well, guess you wouldn't be bored anymore, of me." "Hey, give yourself some credit little Shrink." he winked, smirking, "You're really good at this, can't wait to see you next time." "Don't come until you don't do what I asked." "Sure thing jeez."

With that, he left, and you could almost kill yourself at the way you tried to imagine little Hawks in pain. No, attaching to clients is the biggest NO. Yet, you can't help but feel positive tingles at the thought of him doing that little exercise and telling you about it.

Until next time, Keigo Takami.

[takeyourcyanide]

Do What You Will

AO3

TWs: Repeated Mentions of R@pe, Implied/Referenced Childhood/General Sexual Abuse

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Franken Stein, Marie Mjolnir, Spirit Albarn, Yumi Azusa, Lord Death

Tags: Implied/Reference R@pe/Non-Con, Implied Mind R@pe, Implied/Referenced Child, Abuse Implied Childhood Sexual, Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Trauma, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Not Beta Read, Triggers, Franken Stein Has Sexual Trauma, Age Regression/De-Aging, Hurt/No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 6 978

Summary: Stein believes Marie is going to harm him in some way, and it ultimately leads to a belief she has assaulted him in his sleep, and planned to assault him whilst awake. Marie is unsure how to handle the situation.

Note(s): I hope this isn’t all over the place. This took me way too long, I’ve been so scrambled lately. I forgot what I was originally going to say. I can only imagine everyone’s faces when they read that summary haha. I’m working on other shit. When it comes to the series, I’m not sure that I’m going to do multi-perspective. Most likely not.

With the crashing of the thunder came the flashing and burning of the lightning, in which they disguised themselves, capturing Stein freely, flash on, through the now covered window.

Franken stared unnerved daggers into the all-encompassing darkness drawing him in, into the ceiling on which it seemed both spiders and some sort of humanoid creature crawled.

The bugs dashed and chased on and under his unwilling, exhausted, and pallid flesh, fingertips brushing against his scalp, his shoulders, his neck, as he pondered until morning what would be done of his saying too much.

The metal, rusted frame of his unwelcoming bed creaked with fervor from the slightest of breaths, from the slightest of movements. He’d have covered his ringing ears, but his extremities were practically paralyzed under the weight of the raging, unbridled, and crushing trepidation.

He’d been forced to rely on Marie. It wasn’t his fault. He was forced to confide in Marie. He didn’t want to. He hadn’t failed himself. He hadn’t worked against himself. She wouldn’t hurt him. But there was no point in deceiving himself for the sole sake of comfort; then he’d be just the same as each and every coward he’d ever criticized and chided.

What would the woman do to him? He had calculated from the very beginning that her kindness and generosity was a mere act; an easy and banal way in which she could earn the trust of others, particularly Stein, only to suck his soul of whatever life is still left within it.. For whatever life he was born with. But how would she utilize her mask to her advantage? Franken could see through her, and manipulation seldom worked on him… Or did it? What if she had mastered the art and he hadn’t even realized he was being played? Would she do something physical? Or would she simply tell everyone about the deepest pits of his harrowed soul?

He never wanted to see her again. He never wanted to hear of her again. He never wanted to see, nor hear of anyone ever again.

He had to kill her. Not even dissect her. Kill her. He never had an interest in basic and overdone homicide, but how else could he achieve safety? Would he ever? Had he ever once experienced such a feeling? No. He needed to kill her. Maybe a prompt dissection afterwards. Perhaps he’d even experiment on her if he felt well enough. But that was not the goal. He had to kill her. If not kill, then run away from her. He knew not of what she would do, but he knew for certain she’d do something.

His formerly chilled skin warmed to unprecedented levels for reasons he could not comprehend, the steady ringing growing louder, a hushed whisper and a lullaby joining the unending and incessant noise.

Stein wanted to scream, bloodcurdlingly scream… He wanted to scream, and scream, and scream until his sore throat bled, the thick, crimson liquid pouring out from his shredded lips. He wanted to rip each individual strand of tangling, unkempt, and rustling hair from out of his head, he wanted to devour himself whole, just as the supposed “paranoia” was. It was slowly turning his entire body inside out, toying with him as though he were but a helpless rag doll.

But they only wanted him to believe that he was just paranoid, so that they could more easily do as they pleased with him.

Lord Death would surely put him to death for murdering a comrade. But would that be so bad? But then all of the work he put into rehabilitating, or rather, suppressing his violence, his malice would be thrown out of the same window that they were all looking in on him from.

What would become of him if he were to run away? Perhaps he could simply attempt an escape first and see how that pans out; an experiment. His favorite.

Stein glanced over at his small, bedside clock, of which read in luminous, ruby numbers, ‘04:44.’

Marie was an early riser. She’d typically awaken and begin undertaking her habitual routine anywhere from 06:00 to 07:00 in the morning. And it was only a Thursday, meaning she had to be within the DWMA’s walls by 08:00.

Once she leaves and moves far enough away, he’d go… somewhere. He couldn’t simply venture out into the desert could he? The DWMA had eyes everywhere, they’d catch him eventually, especially if he were to be still within the confines of the city. And he didn’t have a plane ticket.

What if he were to hide out at some bar? A tavern such as Chupa Cabra’s, perhaps? No one would expect him to be there… But the staff would surely notify every one of his appearance at their establishment the very moment he’s classified as missing. Not to mention, they’d find his long stay awfully conspicuous… And they’d have to close eventually…

Where could he go? Perhaps he’d simply have to stay in his laboratory. He could attempt to avoid Marie, but she’s a persistent woman.

Then again, he was the strongest meister to ever graduate from the academy… Surely he could defend himself. But he was vulnerable in the current state he was in.

As he checked the clock again, which now read ‘5:14,’ a certain phrase buzzed around, shouting in his skull repeatedly;

“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

🎩 🎩

🍭<(^-^)>🦖

“I made some breakfast, if you’d like some. It’s nothing much, though,” Marie distractedly stated from the bathroom, fiddling with her blonde hair, as Stein trudged leisurely past her.

He spared a concurrently disinterested and suspicious glance over at the kitchen, canned crescents stacked upon a rotund, oxidized pan, the scent of the food wafting out and filling various sectors of the laboratory.

The meister took an almost unnatural-seeming seat down onto one of the two loveseats perched facing one another in the quaint living space, his body taut, muscles refusing to relax, unable to freely sink into the inviting coziness of the cushions.

“You need to eat, Stein,” the weapon gently lectured, sticking the end of one of her golden earrings in and through the teensy little hole in her lobe. “You know you shouldn’t be skipping meals.”

“‘M not hungry,” he muttered under his breath, eyes threatening to close as he babbled out an overtired, and low-pitched whine in protest - one of which Marie herself was unable to detect.

“But you didn’t eat hardly anything last night, surely you are,” she spoke with a tone of disbelief, as thought Stein were the liar and not her, whilst straightening her lengthy skirt.

“I don’t want to eat,” he gripped his lower lip with his sharp teeth the moment his partner’s hand made contact with his scalp, with his silver hair. It was similar to that of the invisible being’s touch, but more soothing, and less attention-seeking.

She gently ran over the more fragile skin with the very tips of her painted nails, running lithe and well-versed fingers throughout his hair just the way he liked it.

Manipulative and calculating was she.

“Come on, Franken. Unless you think it might nauseate you this time, you need to eat something before I leave. I want to watch you. You’re my responsibility now, and that includes your terrible eating habits,” as opposed to continuing with the mauling of his lips, he moved to roll his inner cheek in between his teeth, biting down hard into the ample and soon-to-be irritated tissue, helping him to focus on not allowing his body to go slack, and melt into her beguiling ministrations; that’s only what she wanted out of him.

Though after the noise-filled, restless night he had, he’d be lying if he said the gesture wasn’t lulling him into a soundless sleep.

But that’s only precisely what she intended to happen.

Stein bolted away from her touch as thought it had scorched his skin, a surge of seething paranoia manhandling his limbs for him. Marie’s eyes briefly widened, before a concerned and baffled glint bloomed within her brown eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She prodded with a sincere countenance, though that did not fool the mistrustful and non-naive scientist.

“Nothing,” he stood guardedly, his alert eyes bulging out from their sockets - somehow his most striking feature despite the screw protruding from the side of his head. He held his arms in a folded manner, close to his sternum, as though he were attempting to shrink away from whatever stimulus had disturbed him so demonstrably.

Marie analyzed the ever-clicking clock, reading aloud, ‘7:29,’ with a pensive sigh.

“I’ve got to head to the academy, Stein - just… Please, eat something today.. Something more substantial than a small snack if you can. And if you can’t, then try to eat multiple little snacks or something until I get home. And just remember, you can tell me anything, okay?”

In other words, “feed me more information.”

Stein kept his mouth closed, continuing to shy away from her very presence, as he observed her every step whilst she sauntered towards the door, a perturbed expression on her visage.

“I’ll be back soon,” she flashed him a kind and somewhat knowing smile as she exited the premises.

What did she know that he didn’t?

Upon her departure, Franken spun in repetitive circles, scanning each and every crevice which surrounded him with a simultaneously quizzical and agitated gaze.

And it ran through his head once more;

What does she know that I do not? What is it that I am missing? Does she have a leg up on me? Perhaps. What do I do? What will *she* do?

A rather delicate tapping on his shoulder left him reeling, whipping around, only to discover nothing, save for a promptly dissipating shadowy figure.

They were taunting him.

“Go away,” he murmured, his face rather petulant, as he awkwardly stood in place.

He stared into the abyssal corridor, considering striding his way back into the warmth of his bed, deterred by the clear and unsettling presence howling from within it, audibly groaning in annoyance.

But he needed to walk through the hallway, even despite the stirring, for they were each still monitoring him intently, sniffing out his vulnerability like bloodhounds. What if they were to see that he was too disquieted to enter a stupid hallway? He’d be easy prey for them, then. He was acting as though he were a scared and small child begging his parents to check the closet and look under the bed for the curated ‘boogeyman.’

And if he were being frank, he almost wished there was someone here whom he could send through the daunting corridor before him - or perhaps even walk alongside him. But that was a moronic desire to have, thus he settled on shoving the odd clump of feelings down, mechanically marching through the energies, of which, too, followed after and above him.

Stein rushed under the weight of his blanket, eyes batting back and forth and all over wildly, as he made himself as comfortable as he could possibly be given his current predicament.

He retrieved the little stuffed, stitched up and bandaged T-Rex which laid beside him, cradling it against his chest, as he slotted his thumb immaturely between his two metallic-tasting lips, the blanket up and over his hiding head.

What was he meant to do the rest of the day? Question precisely what would be done with him? He didn’t wish to think about that.

What was he meant to do the rest of the day? He could no longer research, he could no longer do anything other than shout back at the fizzling static. He couldn’t nourish himself, he couldn’t sleep properly, for even if he did sleep, it was never restful. He couldn’t take care of himself. He’d grown into a large child.

The thought left him to curl in on himself even more so. He’d say that at least he was still emotionally independent, but Marie keeps trying to force him not to be. She, the rest of the academy, and the radio wanted nothing more than to take everything from him. Is that what she’d do? No poisoning, no rape, no selling him into sex slavery, no simply being here to mock him, no nothing except for further ruining him? She’d most definitely discuss her breaking of him with the others, though, there was no doubt about it.

Every thought he could hardly process, every foreign feeling rising within him culminated into one large whirlwind swirling and twisting his insides. He clutched the stuffed toy closer to his chest, his chin resting on its fuzzy head, as he closed his eyes, only to reopen them upon hearing their breathing, feeling their presences.

This became a repetitive process long ago; opening and closing, and opening and closing. Over and over again. Eventually, he’d managed to slip into a wasteful sleep, finding himself awake once more within an hour or less. Over and over again.

The more they sang, the more they muttered, the more a certain frustrated ball raged in his throat, the closing muscles in his throat battling and arguing with his open glottis, just as he’d been in a constant shouting match with the popping static since day one.

The foreign sensation worked in tandem with the old friend he was well-versed with, feeding on his decomposing flesh like vultures whilst he supposedly lived, as he shoved his face into his stuffed animal, avoiding what stood all around him, as well as the light of the morning sun illuminating his gelid bedroom.

It was truly a never-ending cycle; the same precise process over and over again.

🎩 🎩

🍭<(^-^)>🦖

Stein groggily peeled his eyelids open, entirely disorientated as he took in the lack of light, his eyes oddly moist, rubbing the obnoxiously yucky, sticky discharge from his eyes, as he jolted his body upwards, coughing and wheezing into his clammy hand. He pitifully whimpered, still feeling too small for the body he was inhabiting, internally frigid, despite his perspiring skin being swelteringly hot, trying desperately to breathe through his snotty nose.

The cacophonous sound of steel cookware banging against various other materials caught his attention, the world spinning uncontrollably after he whipped his head in the direction of the sound.

Was Marie home already? For how long had he managed to sleep? But he couldn’t feel this way when she or anyone else was around.. What was she going to do to him? What did she want from him? And why was he suddenly sick? Had he quite literally neglected and stressed himself to the point of illness?

His train of frazzled thought was ultimately interrupted by the grumbling of his intestines, and the burning within his vacant stomach. A sense of hunger-induced nausea rose within him, leaving him feeling faint and weary.

Perhaps he’d have to eat whatever Marie decided to whip up. At the end of the day, if it happened to be poisoned or anything, at least that would add a layer of thrill to his currently mundane life.

Franken utilized the smooth, stone walls as an aid whilst he stepped lethargically through the corridor, having hardly made it down the stairs without injury, his surroundings still twisting and turning like warping mirrors in a funhouse, squinting his bare eyes as a sudden burst of light came into view.

“Stein! You’re awake!” The weapon joyously spoke, dancing around the laboratory like some sort of conniving, and overly-expressive ballerina. “I checked on you once I got home, but you were deep asleep. It’s already past seven.”

Deep asleep? She went into his room? What? Why? What? What did she- no.. Did she do something? What did she want? What did she do? What happened? He never sleeps deeply, nor for a very long time. How did he manage to sleep that long? Why’d he have to be sick now? Did she touch him, too? What did she do to him? Why didn’t he wake up? Is he that sick? Wha-

“Earth to Stein? Are you okay?” Marie waved the hand that surely grazed his skin in front of his watering eyes, his chest tightening. “Hey… You don’t look so good. Are you sick?” She placed her palm over the male’s dazed forehead, countenance becoming rather worried and shocked, as she gasped out, “You feel really warm.”

The meister remained still, unresponsive towards her manipulation, as Marie gave him the once-over, observing right away how the tone of his skin seemed to lighten significantly since she last laid eyes on him, and how flushed his cheeks were. His shoulders were slumped morosely, his under-eyes blending in with the absence of light in the hallway.

“You should really take some medicine, Franken,” she softly stated, placing a cool hand on his heated shoulder.

Stein flinched away, instinctually grimacing, acting on a sort of fight or flight response. He bit on the inside of his lips, shuffling away from his weapon.

“What’s wrong?” She appeared almost guilty.

He wanted to tell her to stop pretending. To just be honest about wanting to have her way with him. Or mocking him. Or whatever else she premeditates and has done. She was just like everyone else, after all. Unfortunately, however, his mouth would not comply with his desires, opening and closing just as his eyes had earlier, unable to form a sentence properly. So, he simply settled on shaking his head back and forth, twitching his fingers, and continuing to shuffle backwards away from her imminent touch.

She wanted to have her way with him.

“It’s okay, Franken,” Marie had seen him get this way before. He’d behave rather childishly, though given her proclivity towards children, she never once minded taking care of him. The only problem was that Stein minded. “You can tell me what’s wrong.”

A sizzling emanated from the kitchen. Along with the random flashing of a light, which caught the scientist’s waning attention. The woman’s prodding voice disappeared into the ringing, of which overpowered her ceaseless incanting. The only string of words he managed to process happened to be:

“Franken? Are you maybe feeling… a little small on top of sick? Do you want me to get some medicine for you?”

Was it that obvious?

He couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted to rush away from her, and lock himself away from her greedy fingers. Wouldn’t she just transform her hand into her hammer form and knock down the door if necessary? What was the point?

Stein nearly sucked his whole bottom lip into his mouth, concealing the gentle quivering with his teeth, though she was standing directly before him and could easily watch as he suppressed salty tears.

Why was he even beginning to cry? He never felt the urge to weep - even as a small child. He was only failing himself, allowing for Marie to swoop, with ease, in and exact every single vile fantasy she’s ever had onto him.

“Hey… Don’t cry,” she stepped forward, closer to her meister, of whom hadn’t even realized he was blubbering.

Stein began hacking again, shoving his face into the crook of his arm, whining noiselessly as his body convulsed, sniveling.

“Aw, sweetie,” Marie tried to soothingly pat him on the back, empathetically pouting as she ogled at how his frame shook.

Franken, once again, jerked away, shouting, “No!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the woman panicked, as a harsh and distressed sob interrupted his violent coughing. “I won’t touch you again. It was on instinct, I-“

“You ‘ill ‘gin,” he slurred his words together horribly, struggling to breathe and speak as he crumbled completely, sitting on the icy floor, his back against the wall.

“Huh?”

“Y’u will again!” Franken exclaimed, his legs sprawled out in defeat, his arms limp, his chest bumping up and retracting rapidly.

“No, love, I won’t. If you don’t want me to touch you, then I won’t, I promise.”

“S’op lying,” he snarled. “‘Ou went in bedroom an’..”

“Oh, no, Stein, no, no, no, no… All I did was crack open the door. I just noticed you were sleeping, that’s all,” her eyes widened significantly at what he was implying, her stomach falling to her feet. “I would never ever do anything like that to you - or anyone else, for that matter.”

Marie kneeled down, far enough that no contact was made, but still too close for comfort, as any form of ‘by him’ was enough to startle. But, truly, she had no clue as to how she could console Stein without involving physical contact. That’s what she was used to, after all. Evidently, that was the complete opposite of what he was used to or usually enjoyed. Though she’d try her best regardless.

Franken shrunk in on himself, bringing his knees against his abdomen, away from the weapon, hiccuping, wetness staining his face, as his eyes swelled.

She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t the least bit cute to see the typically stoic, somewhat composed and calm man shudder and pout. It was, however, a little difficult to focus on how much she wanted to just squeeze him when he was… seemingly experiencing genuine terror for the first time in his life, and well.. accusing her of a nauseating practice for unknown reasons. Perhaps it was madness-induced?

“Come on, you have to know I’d never do that,” she drawled, earning the most malice-filled glare ever directed towards her. “Okay, look… I know this must be scary for you, but I don’t understand why you’d think that. I mean… While you were pretty deep asleep, I’m sure you would’ve woken up if.. Death, I don’t even want to think about that,” Stein coughed once more, shoving his head into his knees to evade the sheer dizziness of it all.

She sat down, leaning against the wall opposite to the scientist, of whom had returned to apprehensively eyeing her.

“Liar,” he sniffled, somehow managing to back further away into the concrete and stone. “List’ning ‘n watching, too…”

“What?” Marie confusedly tilted her head, particularly taken aback at whatever notion that happened to be.

“Go’way…”

“Are you sure you want me to leave?”

“Go away,” he demanded more persistently than before.

“Okay… If that’s what you need, sweetheart,” she lifted her body, standing and glancing over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen, fully prepared to throw the surely scorched food out.

Stein observed how almost disappointed and distraught she appeared, how sullenly she moved.

‘Someone give that woman an Oscar,’ was the first thought that came to his mind.

🎩 🎩

🍭<(^-^)>🦖

“I just… I don’t know what to do,” Marie abruptly huffed in complaint, playing with the food she had diligently prepared.

A variety of smells intermingled, everyone having cooked vastly different meals for their lunch-break, the Death Room’s brilliantly blue sky blessing their food, never faltering despite the fog and thick clouds saturating the outside.

“Oh, Death, what relationship troubles are you experiencing this time?” Azusa sarcastically questioned, earning a snicker from Spirit.

They were each sitting, comfortably cramped, around a boxy and wooden table, including Lord Death himself, of whom merely chuckled along with the group’s antics.

“No, no…. Actually, it’s not that this time,” the hammer sighed sorrowfully, taking a humble bite out of her chicken. Her eyebrows were pinched closely together, her jaw clenched in anxiety.

“Then what could it possibly be?” Albarn teased, a blithely sardonic smirk stretched across his visage. Mjolnir scowled at him, smacking his upper arm upon hearing his mirthful giggles.

“It’s about Stein, you jerks,” she almost seemed genuinely offended and hurt, visibly perturbed.

“Oh, has something happen?” Yumi immediately placed her utensils onto the table, paying her utmost attention to Marie.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about him… And stop by for a visit,” Spirit, too, attentively sat, too unease to continue plunging food down his gluttonous gullet.

“It’s just… He.. I think the madness is getting worse…”

“In what way? Is he attempting to cut you open?” Azusa jumped the gun, solemnly ready to attack.

“No! No, no… Not yet, anyway.. He just accused me last night of… Ugh, this is.. He, like, broke down and accused me assaulting him in his sleep.. And then he said something about ‘listening’ and ‘watching,’” Marie shuddered, repulsed by the very prospect of the accusation.

Lord Death and Azusa kept silent, analyzing and processing the words said to them intently and pensively.

“What did you say back? How did you respond?” The seriousness and urgency on the scythe’s countenance was uncharacteristic of him, only serving to further trouble the blonde.

“Well- I, uh… I told him that I’d never do that, and I didn’t really get why he was saying that, and I knew it must have been scary for him, and that he’d have to know I would never do such a thing, and-“

“Don’t argue with it,” he held his hands up warily and advisedly.

“What am I supposed to do, lie and tell him I actually raped him?” A wave of defensive surprise washed over her.

“No.. God, fucking no! Whatever you do, don’t argue OR validate that shit. Look - I’ve been through this with him before, though he’s typically not that open about it…. He started acting kinda weird and out soul resonance began to suffer, and I found out he thought I put cameras and shit in the vents and around the house, and was selling the video is online, and telling Lord Death over here literally everything he ever did or said,” Spirit elucidated, pointing informally with his thumb over at his boss. “I made the same mistake of getting defensive about it and arguing with him. We couldn’t resonate for a good couple of weeks until whatever that was went away somewhat, because he had absolutely no trust in me at all.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? He was sick, too.. I don’t even know if he took anything after I went to bed…”

“Just-“

“And it’s not like I could get close enough to try and comfort him or anything,” she neurotically interjected.

“Just remember that he’s not gonna believe anything you try to do to convince him otherwise. He’ll be suspicious of you no matter what you do. And if he’s not accepting any sort of physical contact, just… Erm… Well, say sort of what you said, like, ‘Oh, it must be really scary to think that.’ Though he may not exactly love that either, it’s better than entirely dismissing him. Just ask him why he thinks what he thinks, but be aware that it may sound a little off or strange. You need to allow him to slowly warm up to whatever sort of comfort you try to give him. Be reassuring and patient. It’s a little hard to know what to do in the moment, but you’ll learn, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” Marie had never felt so grateful over something Spirit had said or done.

“Yes, absolutely. I did. It’s not something he really talked about, but whenever he started to act even weirder than usual, it was just like a switch would go off in my brain, and I would just prepare for whatever consequences came from his thoughts,” the ginger tittered in remembrance. “He’d go from, like, his usual… just existing self to startlingly agitated due to this all, so it’s something I just learned how to handle.”

“Yeah, I noticed that… Thank you, Spirit,” she flashed him an indebted and sweet smile, the corners of her mouth stretching from ear to ear.

“Oh! And also, pay extremely close attention to the language you use while talking to him. One wrong word and I was on trial,” he laughed, grinning himself.

“What do you mean exactly?” She curiously prodded.

“Anything that would imply you feel obligated to do whatever you’re doing is a no-go, I noticed. And anything that would imply a loss of control on his part, or… I’d say anything that’d imply you actually did whatever he thinks you did or are planning on it, or are going to harm him in some way, but just your existence is evidence of that to him,” Albarn began to scarf down his food again, feeling a little more confident in his friend’s abilities to assist his other friend.

“Oh… I told him this morning that he was my responsibility.. Is that included? Is that bad?” A surge of guilt and self-directed frustration swirled within her body.

Death Scythe nearly choked on his food, shaking his head theatrically back and forth.

“Fuck, no! Don’t say that again unless you want to infinitely worsen everything,” he swallowed his meal cartoonishly loud. “For him, that’s, like… It sort of equals, ‘Oh, they don’t even want to be here in the first place? They’re out to get me.’”

“Okay…. Ugh, now I feel bad,” she moaned immaturely, sulking whilst sluggishly taking in tiny bits of food.

“Well, use that to improve.. Even I don’t get it right with him one-hundred percent of the time. It’s sort of impossible with Stein.”

“I think Stein finds it impossible to get it right with himself,” Azusa sneered, breaking her long lasting silence, Marie and Spirit chortling along. “What do you think, Lord Death? You haven’t spoken much, which is odd, given that it’s you.”

“I’m frankly a little concerned.. It doesn’t seem that Stein is distinguishing between the madness and the non-madness anymore,” his body language was particularly ruminative, as his usual gleeful voice possessed a lower and more gravelly twinge to it.

“Yeah… He’s not,” Marie stared down at the table, burning a gaping hole into the oak the same size as the one carving into her thumping heart, as she watched her close friend die a slow, and painful death. “Do you think he’ll come out of it?”

“He always does. I have complete faith he will this time,” Albarn offered his opinion, or, rather, desire.

“Yeah… You’re probably right…”

Hopefully right.

🎩 🎩

🍭<(^-^)>🦖

“Stein? I’m home!” Her voice echoed, bouncing off of the walls. “Franken? Where are you?”

Marie sat her purse down onto the coffee table, roaming around the laboratory in search of her meister, finding him seemingly glued to his computer screen, staring at nothing at all whilst sitting in complete darkness, the only light coming from the living room, giggling to himself, as he spun his chair repetitively.

“Stein?”

He nearly gave himself whiplash, having harshly snapped his head towards the weapon, eyes wide open.

“Hey, what’cha doin’?” She stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Marie was a persistent woman.

The scientist continued to stare through her, that same fuzzy glint in his eyes from the previous night readily apparent.

“You still feeling a little small, baby? I know yesterday was stressful for you,” she sympathetically reminisced, Stein ripping skin off of his lips with his sharp teeth, visibly growing more uncomfortable. “How long has it been since you last ate? I know you probably didn’t eat hardly anything yesterday.”

Franken shrug his shoulders, mumbling, “What’d’y’u care? Wan’ keep me alive f’r more?”

Marie tellingly exhaled, remembering her and Spirit’s conversation. At least she could apply what she’d learned to a real situation.

“Well, I’m hungry, and was wondering if you were too. Why do you feel that way, dear?”

Stein’s face contorted into one of blunted repulsion, shrinking away from the already not close Marie.

“Not feeling very verbal, then?” The weapon languidly asked upon receiving no response… And, well, listening to how difficult it seemed to be for him to simply speak. “You wanna come sit on the couch with me? I’m gonna order us some food.”

She wasn’t going to allow for letting more food go to waste.

The meister appeared fairly on tenterhooks at the notion, his formerly bulging eyes narrowing in leeriness.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to.. I can sit out here if you want to come out.”

“Why’re y’u bein’ so nice?” He maffled, his right thumb unconsciously making its way past his lips, as he chewed on it, sucking on portions of the skin at times.

If she were to say it was because he’s her friend, would he view that as obligation?

“I want to be. You’re just adorable,” she beamed, avoiding a variety of responses that floated about in her brain.

That disgusted grimace returned to his face, or rather, a disgusted twinge. It wasn’t something she took to heart, for it was clear to her that it was an instinctual, guttural reaction he was having to the foreign treatment. And it certainly didn’t help that he was entirely mistrustful of her kindness and generosity.

“Ado’ble?” He babbled out quizzically. After all, he was infamous for his violent tendencies. Most wouldn’t consider him anything other than scary.

“Adorable,” she assured, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest.

How could she not find him cute? Sure, she’d seen for herself how malevolent he could be, but watching his sadistically and atypically giddy, curious expression as he dissected anything and everything lit up her world. Though, maybe not as much as it lit up his world.

“You wanna come sit on the couch?” Marie asked once more before leaving.

While the couch did sound cozy and inviting, would she not pin him down and have her way with him? Could he use his soul-thread sutures to keep her from moving, giving him the upper-hand and ability to escape?

Stein began coughing, sniffling into his arm as his thoughts encased him.

“Aw, still a little sick? It’s hard to see how you look in this darkness,” she chuckled, waving her hands around as to almost point at the shadowy room. “How about I get you some medicine? I think we still have some liquid cold and flu stuff…”

Franken pursed his lips in response, another painful reminder of an experience he did not want, nor choose to have. That is, other than the finger lodged in his mouth that he had long since forgotten to force out, for Marie would find something to exploit regardless.

Liquid medicine was only for when he felt too incompetent to swallow pills, though she always called it “feeling small.”

“‘Kay,” his mutter was barely audible, as Marie beckoned him to follow after her, Stein complying, desperate to rid himself of his pestering illness.

When all was said and done, she’d hurt him whether he avoided her or not.

“You don’t have to speak, okay? It sounds like it’s a struggle for you right now. You don’t ever have to feel pressured to around me,”

He peered up at her most likely feigned sincere expression, his mind unfortunately betraying him as he was pushed further down into headspace.

He shouldn’t enjoy her lies. But he was. It was fuzzy-ifying in a pleasant way, for once.

Why was he even enjoying it? That’s what she wanted out of him, anyway.

A needle-less syringe filled with icky-tasting medicine was placed between his lips, floating between the two, not coming in contact with either, as the horrendously sticky liquid ran down his throat. He swallowed, snarling as he chugged down the glass of water he was given, chasing a tasteless paradise.

“Doesn’t taste very good?” She mimicked his displeased countenance, a fascinatingly empathetic response that the scientist, in any other state of mind, would pick apart until there was not an atom left. In his current mindset, he couldn’t even process thought, however, so only a quick and brief analysis was conducted, being stored in his head for a later date.

The both of them sat side by side on the quaint, little sofa, Stein still too apprehensive to sink into its warmth, though Marie sighed in relief as she fell peacefully into the cushions.

She pulled her phone out from her pocket, clicking away at what was evidently some sort of food delivery app, leaving the meister to wonder what else must’ve been in her pockets. Condoms? Or would those be in her clearly intentionally-placed purse… Right by the place she wanted Stein to be. And what was stored in her leather bag? Rope? Some sort of sex toy to use on him as he tried to writhe away? Was there a variety of toys?

Speaking of toys, the longer he found himself stuck inside of his aching skull, the more he desired to rub his hand around his T-Rex’s fur.. To caress its tail in an effort to maintain his composure.

Tears welled in his eyes, causing him to feel more pathetic and moronic than he’d ever felt before, bring his knees to his sternum, shoving his face into the crack in between.

His heart felt as if it evaporated from his body, a cavernous, hollow hole left in its place. He felt as though he might faint, though that most certainly would only give her easy access.

A sob racked his body, garnering the attention of a certain individual.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” She promptly tossed her phone aside once finished, rushing to quell whatever storm was raging on within him. “You want me to get you your dinosaur? Maybe that would help?”

Oh, God, could she read his thoughts, too?

He lifted his head, slamming it against his kneecaps repeatedly, struggling to merely inhale and exhale, teardrops having seeped into his pajama pants.

“No, no, no, don’t do that, baby,” she worriedly chided, holding his head still reflexively, immediately backing away once Stein bolted to the other side of the sofa, eyes bugging out of their sockets.

His lower lip trembled as he bit into it, whimpering as he returned to his former position, though this time yet another finger found its way back into his mouth, despite its unsanitary nature.

“Yeah, how about I get you your T-Rex? I’ll be right back, okay?”

At least something could cuddle with him. Perhaps it could soothe him and offer him some form of tranquility?

It still pained her to walk away from what might as well have been a weeping baby, especially since that baby was Stein. And Stein didn’t cry. So, it was more than obvious that something was deeply wrong.

Eventually, she’d rushed back to their shared living space, holding out the stuffed animal for him to latch onto and take.

He lifted his eyes cautiously, speedily yanking his favorite stuffie from out of her covetous, unrelenting, and grabby hands, tucking it in between his knees and against his sternum.

What if the supposed “medicine” he was given was a sedative?

His bawling only grew in intensity, as he nuzzled into the softness of his toy, gasping for air as the revelation of just how monstrously he’d betrayed himself fell upon him as crushingly as if the weight of the sun had been the thing to fall on top of him.

“Why’s ever’one wanna touch me?” He began to ramble, a few wheezes here and there as he snuffled.

“What do you mean, sweetheart? Why do you think that?” She moved back towards the sofa, plopping down onto the farthest side.

“Everyone a’ways does,” he whined into the head of the T-Rex, kicking his feet up and down, upset, similarly to a toddler. “Don’ wan’ be touched.”

A toddler…

“I’m sorry you feel that way, sweetie. It must not feel very good..”

What was she supposed to say in this situation?

“Don’ feel ‘at way! I’s the truth!” He choked on yet another convulsion-inducing sob, hugging the T-Rex even tighter than before.

Marie knew Spirit said she’d eventually adapt to Stein… But she was beginning to doubt that idea. What was she supposed to do? Just sit here and listen to him wail?

“Why do you think that?”

“‘Cause tha’s what a’ways happens!”

“Has it happened before, love?”

He glowered at her for simply asking, forcing himself deeper into the corner of the couch.

“Go’way,” he repeated once more. “Jus’ like everyone else.”

“No,” Marie denied his request. “I’m not just going to leave you alone again, Franken.”

“Why not?” He caterwauled.

“That’s not good for you. Come here, sweetheart,” she held her arms out.

“No.. I wanna be alone..”

Marie leaned closer, pulling him in, allowing for his head to rest in the crook of his neck.

Franken squirmed away from her, the weapon only continuing to hold him, hoping to Death it was comfort him in some way.

He tried to use his soul-thread sutures out of pure fight-or-flight, they sparked and dissipated like the flame of a failing lighter, evidently too distressed to properly utilize his skill.

Was it because he never was really distressed? And thus using it in such an anguished state was something he genuinely needed to practice?

Whatever the case may be, he eventually just gave up, succumbing to her unbidden whims.

‘I thought she said she wouldn’t touch me if I didn’t want to?’ The thought left him hollow.

People weren’t to be trusted. This was going to happen whether he avoided her or not. But why did he let himself cry in front of her? He’d betrayed himself for nothing.

A few monotone-sounding, dead sobs escaped his mouth.

He should probably keep it shut if he wants nothing inside of it.

Why did she continue to hold him even when it was perfectly clear he wasn’t enjoying it? Wasn’t she supposed to be the “caring” one?

No matter her intentions, it didn’t make it feel any better.

With the crashing of the thunder came the flashing and burning of the lightning, and soon he was too empty, too betrayed despite having always expected it, and had been much too sapped to cry.

She could do whatever she wanted with him. He was done.

[viishwakarma]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [AADHYA VISHWAKARMA]! You must be the [TWENTY SIX] year old [SWEET SPOT ICE CREAM SHOP ATTENDANT]. Word is you’re [LOVING] but can also be a bit [BRASH] and your favorite song is [SOUL NO.5 BY CAROLINE ROSE]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!  / @aurorabayaesthetic

born in canada , lived there for like not even a year and raised an aurora bay native but she assures you she's not an american . no tragic backstory here, unfortunately. while her parents could be strict growing up: sleepovers only on weekends, curfew at 10 PM, no cell phone until she was fourteen. she was loved by them very much, held a lot as a child, hugged every day and told she was important. boring, sure, but at least she doesn’t have any of the icky trauma that those with shitty biological parents have:

a white youth pastor told a 10 year old aadhya that her dreams of being the first female president was unlikely so, out of spite, she worked ten times harder than all of her peers to prove him wrong. the plan was to become valedictorian in her local high school where she’d give a really nice speech then add “oh and fuck you pastor armstrong” at the end of it but …. then he died… so she figured it was in poor taste. ( also she never made valedictorian )

she was a straight a student, a bona fide nerd who wore braces up until the age of eighteen if that gives you any inkling of who she was in high school.

she lived with her mom, father, and grandma on aurora bay drive. again , very loved but right after graduating high school her grandmother became sick and her parents were unable to take care of her. it was either send her to a nursing home or aadhya put a hold on colleges to step up to the plate, so she did. grandma got better and they hired a live - in nurse when aadhya was twenty-one, so she skipped on over to accept her enrollment at UCLA

that shit was truly life changing. she had her first kiss at twenty - two, went to third base with some dude in a frat and took so many fireball shots that she blacked out for the first time when she was twenty - four. she was a hot girl. or maybe she just acted like she was. putting herself in extremely frightening situations was so riveting that aadhya realized she had sheltered herself from all of the fun things growing up because of her grudge. so, while she graduated with a bachelor’s in research science (to be a chemist!), she did fuck all with it and decided to move into seabrook quarter six months ago.

PERSONALITY . 

                             enfp    ,     7w8      sanguine  ,     ethical slut  ,    caring                       admirer of hugs ,   vulgar  ,  makes a lot of confusing euphemisms.        has a list on her notes of celebrity men and women she’d love to ( EXPLICIT )

CONNECTIONS . MORE ADDED SOON.

childhood friends or people who knew aadhya growing up!      ride or die  .    best friends  .   drunk friends  . all friends  .   enemies ( she’s a lot )  .   crush  .   neighbors .   roommate   

[cherrygirl-28]

I posted on May a post about my own L headcanons but was deleted accidentally. Luckily, I still got the text on my phone notes.

————

«Hello anon, thank you for asking! ❤️ I have a few headcanons for our beloved detective, although I've been in situations where I would argue with people about those headcanons. You know, most people in the fandom want L to be flawless, but I think it's because he's a complex character on his own. Nothing is black and white with him.

Here we go!

• Besides sweets, he also eats regular meals but only behind the scenes. He eats sweets only when he is in deep thinking, or when he tries to focus on a difficult case. Think about it. If he only ate sweets whole of his life, he would have died long before the Kira case started. Also, yes, he does sleep.

• He was born intelligent but received some training to become a detective. He passed through an intelligence test, in which all the children participated, so that people of the Wammy's house can choose which candidate will eventually become a detective.

• Doesn't remember his parents but would like to meet them and find out where he comes from.

• His mother was a... Luxury escort to make money since she had ran away from home at 17. Although she was generally careful with her costumers, she accidentally became pregnant by one. She was 20 and he was 75. Of course she was fired and didn't want to go through the surgery process, so she gave birth to him in Moscow, Russia.

• As for his strange behaviour when he arrived at Wammy's house and thought that hugging someone is a violent behaviour, (there's a scene about that in a one-shot manga) was a response to some trauma he had. He probably suffered through an abuse, or a severe shock. Remember he was only a child.

• Respects human life, even when circumstances don't allow him to respect it as much as he should. He feels pity towards a dead person whether they were a criminal or not. I think the reason he continues the cases with such stubbornness, it's because somewhere deep there's a smouldering desire for justice. Even though he says his job has nothing to do with it. (Referring to his speech about monsters)

• Loves animals. There is no preference. He loves all the species, although cats seem to like him and he can't understand why.

• Has a good relationship with children. And by saying good I mean he's patient and never yells at them. We have seen this concept again in "L: change the world" and it made him a great babysitter! L himself said he's childish and hates to lose. Well… Maybe there's an immature child inside of him who just wants to have fun, but didn't had that opportunity in his childhood. That's why he's so understanding towards them. Because in his mind it feels like he's talking to his younger self. Also, the children of the Wammy's house have him as a role model and admire him for his achievements.

• Is an artistic soul. As a child, he had been involved in music and even played the piano and violin. Later, he wanted to learn how to play electric guitar but didn't make it due to work obligations.

• He's a good listener. Even if he doesn't have great advice to give, he gives his full attention to the conversation.

• If he falls in love, he will become protective and endearing. And that's because he actually has a heart. You just have to be willing to see what is hidden behind that deadpan face.

• Never fell in love. He had some crushes in middle school, which felt intimate. Close to be love, but it was never actual love. It was something in between feeling friendly towards someone, and at the same time having that butterfly feeling when seeing them.»

[stellarboystyles]

serendipity

ahhhh she’s finally done!! now i can rest my weary soul. thank you to my lover @bfharry​ for putting this lovely event together, and i’m sorry this late, i’m a mess.

7k pining, fluff and smut

friends to lovers college au // trigger warning - mentions of illness, family death and childhood trauma, mentions of alcohol use.

She was reaching as high as she could, desperately trying to get to the book on the shelf that was much too high for her to reach. She turns to Harry, who’s smirking down at her with crossed arms.

“Need a lift, sprout?”

She gives him a look of eloquence. “Please.” 

She giggles as he dips down, wrapping his arms around her legs and lifting her up. Now, she’s happily at eye level with the desired shelf. 

Her fingers skimming over the spines of all the hardbacks sitting comfortably on the wood surface. E...F...G...H...

“Found it!”

Once her eyes lock on the title, she pulls the book out as fast as she could.

“Okay, let me down.” 

“Sure? Don’t like the view from up there? Know you’re not used to it-”

“No, now let me down before I bruise you like the peach that you are.”

“Ouch.” he snickered, setting you back down onto the ground beneath. “S’harsh.”

“Deserved it.” she teased before he sticks out his tongue in a playful response. 

“What d’ya need the book for?”

“It’s for that analysis we have to do for poetry class.”

He blinks at her once, eyes widening slightly. “What analysis?”

She giggles at his expression. “You didn’t read your emails, did you?”

“Fuck!” he exclaims, voice slightly above a whisper, but it was enough to agitate the other students in the library who are trying to either study or get their own work done.

“Shhh!”

“Sorry, sorry.” he apologizes to the people around them before Y/N puts a hand on his bicep and he leans into her to hear her whispering words.

“You just have to pick a poetry book, analyze it, make a conclusion, all that stuff.”

“So it’s like an essay?”

“Kind of.” she follows Harry as he starts to examine the shelves for a book himself. “You know how Greene is, he’s super chill. He wants it to be more of a review, what you think of the book and the author.”

“So, like a review.”

She blinks at him. “That’s what I just said.”

“M’tired, gimme a break.” he sighs. “He never challenges us in that class.”

“I guess not.” she shrugs. “Easy grade, right?”

“Sounds like it.” he gives a casual nod. “When’s it due?”

“Tuesday.”

“Sweet.” he nods, eyes skimmed across the shelves before landing on a cornflower blue hardback. Harry chose books by their cover a lot. Not metaphorically, just literally.

“Ready?”  

He nods again. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Once they’d both gotten their book signed out, they started down the path across the patch of grass, making their way to their next class that they had together. 

“So you really didn’t check your phone all weekend?”

He shakes his head. “No, my phone was off ‘cos Gem was visiting over the weekend, remember?” he taps on the side of her head with one finger. “Helloooo, earth to Y/N, you were there.”

“Quit it!” she scolds, swatting his hand away. “Yeah, I think I remember her. She’s the least annoying Styles’ sibling, right?”

Harry unexpectedly clutches his chest, wincing in pain. “Ouch, ow!”

Panic rushed through her, the first thing popping into her mind was that he was having an asthma attack. “Haz, are you okay?” she drops her bag onto the ground so that she can help him. “You’re scaring me, do you need your inhaler?”

He leans over, eyes squeezed closed. One hand is resting on his knee, the other still grasping at his sternum. 

“My ego...it hurts.”

As soon as the words registered, anger washed over her, jaw rippling before punching him in the bicep.

“You’re such a little shit.” 

“Oi, tha’ hurt!” he laughs, which makes her even more angry, whisking her bag off the ground and walking away from him as quickly as possible. 

He lets out a lighthearted sigh before starting to jog up to her. “C’mon, wait up.”

“Go away.” she grumbles, quickening the pace of her steps towards the building that their next class was in. Her hand was less than a foot away from reaching the door, about to push it open but she was no match for his longer legs as he jogged to catch up with her.

“Hey, hey.” he manages to get her hand in his grasp. She turns around in his grip, eyes fiery with vex. 

“What.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” he frowns, moving so that he’s holding both of her hands in his as he stood in front of her. “Please? M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the brick wall behind her. “Yes you did.”

“Let me make it up to you?” he offers, resting his palm on the rough surface above her head. 

“Whatever you want.”

The pounding heartbeat in her ears is deafening, but the prank that he’d just pulled wasn’t quickly forgotten.

“I’ll let you know when I think of something.” Pushing herself off the wall, she turns and pushes the door open to the classroom, leaving a sad Harry behind. He trudged along behind her, silently moping before sitting next to her. Not even a minute after they sat down, Harry was leaning over to her, trying to get her attention. 

“Y/N, please.” he whines, laying his head on her shoulder. “M’sorry.”

The butterflies in her stomach were crumbling her resolve, and she lays her cheek on top of his curls. “It’s okay.” he can hear the smile in her quiet voice. He peers up at her, an endearing smile beaming back at her.

“Not mad at me anymore?” he clarifies, voice filled with hope.

“How long have we been best friends?” she laughs. “Y’know I can never stay mad at you.”

“We were babies, don’t you remember?” he snickers. “Like, actual babies.”

Neither of them really remember. 

Harry and Y/N’s parents had been neighbors and friends for years before either of them were born, and when Harry was almost two, they’d given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

“Harry, look.” Anne coos to her son as he sits on her lap. “See the baby?”

He stops playing with his teddy, toddling over to the sound of his mummy’s voice and he’s so fascinated, probably because he’s never seen a real baby before. 

“I hold her?”

The new mum says “of course” before she gives her baby to Anne, now holding her in Harry’s lap. 

“I pet?”

He carefully lifts a chubby hand, places it on her tummy and pats gently at the pale lavender onesie. 

“My sweet boy.” Anne kisses the top of his head, smoothing out his blonde bangs.

Harry leans down and pushes a soft kiss onto her cheek, and it’s safe to say both mums melt at the sight. 

“They’ll be best friends for sure.” 

He looks up at the baby’s mum. “She seepin’?”

She nods with a smile. “Yeah, she's sleepin’.”

He gives her another kiss on her cheek before speaking again, this time in a hushed voice. 

“Night Night, baby.” 

“Our mums are never gonna let us forget that day.” he groans, twisting open the cap of the drink in his hands.

“Or that you had a crush on me.” 

He nearly chokes on his juice, making her split into a fit of giggles.

“Maybe I did.” he admits, leaning his elbows onto the desk. “So what?” 

“You definitely did, remember when you kissed me?”

His cheeks heat up at her teasing, arms crossing on top of the desk before laying his head down in embarrassment. He cracks one eye open at her laughing. “y/nnnn.”

When Harry was five and Y/N was four, he asked if he could kiss her, at school.

“You’re the prettiest girl in the whole world.” Harry tells her as his fingers draw in the dirt.

“That’s what my mummy and daddy tells me!” she cheers, and he may only be five years old but he knows that no other girl on the playground would happily sit in the dirt with him like she would. Her cheeks are resting against her hands and Harry thinks that they’re the cutest cheeks he’s ever seen.

“Can we kiss now?” 

She thinks for a moment before speaking.

“You can’t tell your mummy, because she might tell my mummy and we’ll be in trouble.” 

“Won’t tell anyone, not even Niall.”

Her eyes go wide with a gasp. Niall was his best friend, he must really mean business.

“Really?”

“Promise.” he holds out his pinky for her to squeeze.

Unfortunately for them, while Y/N was over next door at Harry’s for a playdate Anne caught them kissing in the back garden and they were both forced into the friend zone. Y/N was super sad, and Harry didn’t like that one bit, so he tried to make her feel better. 

“Don’t cry, someday when we’re grown ups we can kiss and hold hands anytime we want! We can be best friends ‘til then, okay?”

“The start of an epic friendship.” he reminisces, flashing her a wink. 

“Good times and bad.” she nods, and the mood drifts to sad silence.

“We’ve really been there through everything, huh?” he acknowledges, meeting her gaze. 

When Harry was twelve and Y/N was eleven, Harry’s dad left. Left his family with nothing and Harry was devastated.

“How could he? This isn’t fair to any of you.”

Y/N was standing in Anne’s kitchen listening to her painstakingly tell her what had just happened. He’d left while Anne was working and Gemma and Harry were at school, leaving the remainder of the family devastated. 

“I know darling, but we’ll get through this. I’m worried about Harry, he ran off. He was so upset. Do you know where he could be?”

“I’ll find him.”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Her mind and legs worked together to pedal faster than she ever had before through the park behind their street. As soon as she crosses the bridge she sees him. He’s sitting under their favorite oak tree, knees dew up to his chest.

“Harry!”

She throws her bike down and sprints to him, falling next to him.

He looks up, releases the grip on his hair and reaches out, grasping her hands and she quickly pulls him into a hug and she’d never held anyone so tight in her entire life. Her own hot tears started to fall from her face at the sound of his heartbreaking cries and she doesn’t know how long they stayed there like that, slowly moving her fingers through his curls as she held him. He let out a whimper when she forced his face out of her neck, cradling his cheeks in her hands. He looked so defeated and she had to use every ounce of strength in her body not to sit there and cuddle him against this tree all night. His mum and sister needed him, and he needed them. Her fingers brushed across his wet cheeks and he leaned into her touch as she repeated the action. 

“I’m so sorry, Haz.” another sob escapes him at her words. “You don’t have to talk about it. You can cry, scream and yell, whatever you want...but we gotta get home., it’s getting dark.”

“Don’t wanna go back there.” he shakes his head and tightens his hold on your shirt. 

“H, your mum and sister need you, and you need them.”

“I need you.” 

Y/N’s heart flutters and she’s not sure why, but she’s sure Harry can feel it because he’s still fisting her shirt. 

“I’ll stay the night at yours, my mum won’t care.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’ll get over it.”

Understandably, of course her father wasn’t too fond of the idea of his daughter sleeping over at her best friend’s house, because he was a boy. But she reassured her dad countless times that “boys were gross” so he begrudgingly allowed it.

They’d cuddled countless times, that night was no different. She held him, stroking his hair some more as they talked. The mood is lightened after awhile. Even though the healing process hasn’t even really begun yet. Harry was gonna be okay, because he had Y/N. 

“Gemma gets so jealous because she can’t have boys in her room.” he jokes, making her giggle. 

“She’s also fifteen and has a boyfriend.” she reasons. “We’re just best friends.”

“True.” 

Comfortable silence engulfed Harry’s room for a few moments, the vibe was mellow from each other’s presence before Y/N spoke again.

“It’s gonna be okay.” her voice was barely above a whisper, brushing the stray hairs away from his forehead. 

“You don’t know that.” he whispers, peering up at her. The moonlight shining through the window is enough to illuminate their faces while they talk.

“Yeah I do.” she argues softly. “It’s bad right now, but it’ll be okay someday. Promise.”

When Y/N was seventeen, her world came crashing down.

“Harry, can you come down please?”

He quickly put down his phone, shoving it into his pocket when he heard the urgency in his mum’s voice coming from downstairs. Ever since his dad left he’d grown closer to his mum and sister, more protective.

He rushes downstairs, finding her in the kitchen. 

“Mum? What's wrong?”

“I need you to go next door and check on Y/N, alright?”

His face fills with confusion and fear but Anne doesn’t give him any time to respond. 

“I just got off the phone with Rachelle, she and Will had gone out to dinner and he started to have some terrible pain. They’re at the hospital now, they did some tests…they found something and they think it might be cancer.”

Harry’s face falls.

“Oh God, Mum—”

“I know, baby, I know.”

“Does she know? She had to work after school today, does she know?”

“Her mum said she was going to call her once she’d gotten home from work.”

“She gets off at eight thirty,” he pulls out his phone and sees that it’s nine fifteen. “She should be home by now.” He briskly walks over to the window that faces Y/N’s house. 

“Her car’s there.” he reveals. “M’goin’ over there. I’ll be back.”

She agrees and without another word Harry’s at her front door. 

Locked.

“Shit, shit, shit.” he mutters to himself before remembering the spare key under the flower pot by the door. Once it’s retrieved, his trembling hands fumble with the piece of metal before successfully unlocking the door and pushing it open. As soon as he’s inside, he hears muffled crying from upstairs and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s rushing upstairs and down the hall to her bedroom. Normally he would never just walk in her room uninvited, but when he saw the white wooden door decorated with silver stars all over, he wasn’t going to stop until he got to her. As soon as he pushes her bedroom door open, the sight alone is enough to make him cry. He watches her yank her desk chair out, screaming as she throws it as hard as she could across the floor.

“Y/N!” 

He rushes to her, pulling her in the most protective hug he’s ever given. Her arms retreated to frightfully gripping the front of his shirt, knees buckling. They ended up crumpled on the floor, backs against the wall as he held her. Her gut wrenching cries were hushed by Harry’s embrace.

“Hey, hey—shhh. M’here, look at me, okay? Deep breaths, breathe with me, okay?” 

“I can’t, it’s too much. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.” her cries made his heart ache, all he wanted to do was make it better, but he just couldn’t.

Needless to say, they’ve been there for each other through everything. Y/N’s dad passed away later that year, leaving everyone devastated. Harry waited a year to go to college to be there for Y/N and her mum.

“Are you excited for NYU?”

She tried to sound happy for him, but her voice was laced with sadness. His back was facing her so she couldn’t see his face as he glanced at the sunset out her window.

“M’not going.” he admits, voice small and her jaw goes slack.

“What? What d’you mean you’re not going?” 

“Can’t leave you two here like this.” he turns around and tears are brimming his waterline. “Already talked it over with mum, and the bakery’s not really willin’ t’let me go yet.” 

“Harry.” she warns.

“Hey,” it’s alright.” he pulls her into a protective hug. “We’ll get everything sorted out, okay? It’ll be nice to take a year off from school anyway.”

His lighthearted tone isn’t enough to soothe her anxiety. “You don’t have to put your life on hold for me.”

“I’m not.” he promises. “We’ve been there for each other through everything, yeah?” he pulls away slightly, giving her a warm smile. “That doesn’t just stop because we aren’t kids anymore.”

“We make a good team.”

Her words warm his heart and he turns to her, nodding with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, we do, don’t we?”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Her.

Admire her.

Tell her how the crinkles in her eyes are like crescent moons, glowing when she smiles. 

Watch how she giggles at your jokes that aren’t funny, and how coy she gets when you’re sweet with her. 

She couldn’t help but get lost in books like this. Somehow they managed to capture everything she’s ever been through, and everything she’s struggling with now. It was torture, really, being in love with her best friend, seeing him everyday, hiding her feelings from him in fear of their friendship being ruined forever. She couldn’t even fathom if that horror were to become her reality, she surely wouldn’t survive the heartbreak.

Touch her. 

Tell her that the stretch marks that paint her skin are magnificent, and that her body is just one dazzling part of who she is.

Snuggle her with tender touches and soft fingertips, love on every curve of her body.

She found herself daydreaming at times like this—the midday sun beaming down on her through the window of the library as she sat in one of the lounge chairs, reading one of her favorite poetry books. She would think about how Harry would touch her if she were his. How he would caress her skin, what his lips could do, where his hands would go.

Adore her.

Cherish her. 

Her reading was quickly interrupted, her vision obstructed by a pair of hands covering her eyes followed by a familiar voice.

“Guess who.”

“Uh...Bigfoot?”

“Heeeey.” he protests, moving to sit in the lounge chair next to hers. “S’mean.”

She giggles at his pouting, squeezing one of his cheeks. “Poor baby.”

“Ouch.” he brought his hand up to his face to rub the sore skin. “Like beatin’ up on me, do yeh?”

“Just a little.” she winks. 

“Yeah, yeah.” he playfully rolls his eyes before turning his attention to the book in his best friend’s hands. “Whatcha readin’?”

Her heartbeat quickened as she realised that she had been caught, swiftly shutting the book and tucking it into her bag. “Nothing.”

“Nooo, lemme see!”

He didn’t give her another chance to respond, knowing her all too well. She shied away from his words, cheeks splashing with pink.

“C’mon, pleeease?” he frowns, nudging her arm with his elbow. He notices her apprehension, not wanting to push her.

“S’just me.” 

His voice is softer, giving her a fluttering feeling as he leans in closer. “Y’trust me, right?”

The close proximity made her heart thump in her chest. She gives him a slight nod before quietly replying. “Yeah.”

He gently bites down on his lower lip, his eyes flickering from her eyes, down to her lips.

Were they going to kiss?

“Why won’t you tell me what you were readin’?” he quirks with a small smile, tilting his head slightly. You can see the wheels turning. “S’it naughty?”

“No!” she gives him a look, as if to say stooooop, Haz.

He chuckles at her nervousness, patiently waiting as she keeps fumbling over her words, avoiding his captivating eyes. “No...no, no, it’s a...it’s just a book.”

“Obviously.” he blinks. “What kind of book.”

“Just poetry.” she mumbles, hoping he would drop the subject quickly.

“S’it for your poetry analysis thing? What kind of—”

“Harryyyyy.” she whines, hiding her face in her hands. 

“M’not doin’ anything! Can’t I be interested in what you’re readin’?” he defends, resting his cheek in his hand, elbow leaning on the arm of the chair. 

“M’only teasing.” he swipes his fingers across her heated cheeks as he speaks softly to her. “You’re bein’ so shy.”

It’s so adorable, he thinks to himself. 

“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” he reassures. “M’starving. Did you still wanna go to lunch?”

She perked up at his question, the book in her bag eventually forgotten, just as she wished. “Please, I’m so hungry.”

“Can we get—”

“Chinese?” his face lights up. “Please please please?”

“We had that last weekend.” 

“So? S’the best food ever, and since when do you turn down chinese food?” he rests his head on the table. “I’ll help you with French Lit.”

“Compelling argument, I didn’t know you were taking a debate class.”

“So funny.” he rolls his eyes. “C’mon, please?”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

“I love chow mein so much.” 

Y/N’s words barely register in his ears, let alone his brain as he admired the sight of her, eyes closed in bliss as she slurps another noodle.

She’s just so fucking cute.

“I love you so much.”

“What?”

He’s sure his heart had just dropped into his stomach and his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud! 

“Didn’t say anything.” he mumbles, mentally cursing himself after feeling the heat radiating off his cheeks. He avoids her gaze as he shoves another spoonful of hot and sour soup into his mouth.

“So how’s your story for creative writing going?” she wonders, twirling some noodles with her fork, because no, she didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and yes, Harry never missed an opportunity to tease her about it.

“Awful.” he pouts, to which she mirrors his expression. 

“You stuck?”

“Very.” he groans. “Just can’t seem to get the words out, y’know?”

“I’ve been there.” she nods. “Do you want some help?”

“Please.” he begged, giving her puppy eyes. “S’due next friday, been workin’ on it every night and still can’t get a single word out.”

“I think you just need to take a break, babes.” she offers. “Let’s have a sleepover this weekend and I’ll help you.”

He gives a sigh of relief, making her laugh. “You’re a gem. What would I do without you?” 

“Your life would definitely be less exciting.” she notes, taking another bite.

He was silent for a moment, probably thinking of a comeba—

“At least I know how to use chopsticks.” 

“You won’t teach me!” she pouts at his teasing. “Quit being mean.”

“Want me to teach you?” he perks, peering up at her.

“Yes.” she lets out a breathless giggle while nodding. 

He playfully huffs, slightly rolling his eyes as he moves to sit behind her on her bed. 

“Okay, so you hold them like this…”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary, 

I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him. I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend? Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his. How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much. Sometimes I feel like I should just tell him, bite the bullet, rip off the band aid and hope to God that our friendship isn’t ruined forever. In a perfect world,

Y/N drops her pen at the vibration of her phone.

Harry is calling…

“Hello?”

“We’ve known each other for how long and you still answer with hello?”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you having a bad day or are you just making fun of me for shits and giggles?”

“Lil bit of both, yeah?” she can hear the cheekiness in his voice. “We still havin’ a sleepover this weekend? Might have to do it at yours, Niall’s havin’ a party and I doubt we’ll get anything done.”

She could hear the sheepish tone in his voice. “Oh no, if you wanna be at the party we can totally reschedule.” she offers.

Harry scrunches up his nose. “Need to get this paper done, m’never gonna finish it with all the noise.” he’s lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Besides, I’d rather spend the weekend with you.”

She feels her heart flutter at his admission, cheeks tingling with heat.

“ Okay...can you bring some snacks?”

There were no two humans on earth that loved fruit more than Harry and Y/N. so around fifteen minutes later, when Harry showed up to Y/N’s door with two smoothies, she melted like sugar. 

“Berry for you.” he hands you the icy purple smoothie in his left hand. “Strawberry banana for me.”

“Awh, thank you!” she gently pinches one of his cheeks. “You’re so sweet.”

“Oi, worse than my mum, aren’t you?” he rubs at the newly pink cheek. 

“No.” she defends. “C’mon, I’ll help you with your story so you don’t drag it out all weekend.”

“I resent that.” he mutters, sitting beside her on her bed as he flips open his laptop. 

“Do you have an idea of what you wanna write?”

“I have a little bit finished, now, about five thousand words. Wanna have a look?”

Y/N reads it over and it’s nothing short of a masterpiece so far. How can he be so pretty and talented at the same time?

“This is beautiful,” she gapes, turning to look up at him. “This is so good, H.”

“Oh, stop.” He sheepishly brushes off her praise. “Don’t think it’s bad so far, just need to come up with a conflict.”

“Just figure out what breaks your characters, what makes them the most vulnerable, what would completely crush them?”

“Losing each other.”

“More specific?” she tries, staring at the screen in front of her. “It’ll help with the details.”

“Rory’s afraid to tell Daisy that he’s in love with her.” he says. “He’s afraid that, if she finds out, it’ll ruin their friendship.”

Y/N’s lungs felt empty, like all the air had been sucked out by Harry’s words.

“Okay, um,” she gulps, trying to collect her thoughts. “So...write about that, and see where the story takes you.”

Three hours later

“Can we take a break?” he groans, laying back on the pillows of her bed. “M’starving.”

“Me too.” she pouts, fiddling with her hands. “Whatcha hungry for?”

“Mmm,” Harry thinks for a few moments before speaking up. “A veggie grill just opened up downtown, we should go there!”

“You’re making me crave nachos.” 

“You always crave nachos.”

“Why do you always have to call me out?” she whines, giving him a bashful glance.

“S’fun, innit?” he smirks, nudging her shoulder with his bicep.

“No.” she giggles, lying down next to him. “I’m gonna go get a shower then we can go.”

“Okay.”

An endearing smile adorned his face as she snuggled slightly into the soft pillows. Her eyes leisurely blink at him, falling closed after a few seconds.

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm.” 

“Thought you wanted a shower?” he hummed. Although, he wouldn’t mind staying here all night. “You can stay here, I’ll go pick up some food.”

“No, it’s okay.” she yawns, pushing herself up off the bed. “I’ll be quick.”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Harry gets bored easily, although his best friends room was much more lovely than his. He thinks his room is pretty basic; but Y/N’s room was much more charming. The walls were painted a pale ivory, decorated with fairy lights above her bed, which was dressed with a crisp white comforter and matching pillows. The knitted plum blanket that Harry had gotten her ages ago for Christmas was at the end of her bed. He vividly remembers when he had given it to her.

Her eyes were sparkling with joy as she pulled the blanket out of the box.

“Your mum helped me make it.” he mentions with a sheepish smile. “She was so patient, even though I had no idea what I was doing.”

“It’s beautiful.” she beams, pulling it close to her heart before looking up at him as they sat on the floor of Harry’s living room. “I love it.”

He gives her a soft smile, but he feels melancholic energy surrounding him. He keeps telling himself that he didn’t have a reason to be sad, because they weren’t together...but all he wanted was for her to be his. She was so cute, beanie snug on her head under the glow of the Christmas tree.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” 

To which she nods. “Of course.”

“Do you think,” his lips are pressed together in thought for a moment. “Do you think that fate is real?”

“Like kismet?” she cocks her head with a smile and he nods, breaking into a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, like kismet.”

“I think,” she takes a moment, fumbling with her hands before looking up at him. “Yeah, I think it’s real.”

Ten thousand words. Harry has to write ten thousand words by next Friday and he doesn’t have a single word typed out. Creative writing was supposed to be fun, and he had to write a romance fiction piece? Harry didn’t exactly thrive when it came to love. In fact, his love life was bone dry, to put it lightly. Other girls were...boring, compared to Y/N. Harry was charming and romantic and sweet and loving—but he didn’t want some random girl, he wanted Y/N to be his girl. Pining over her was his full time job, always has been.

He walks over to her desk, admiring the pictures that graced the wall just above. One of the photos that catches his eye is Y/N, probably about three or four, and her dad is reading her a bedtime story, her mum most likely being the one taking the photo. Sorrow washes over him, because it never gets easier, does it?

His eyes float to a few photos of Harry and Y/N laying  next to each other on their friend Jess’s parents house on the terrace. It was the first time they’d ever gotten drunk and they were trashed. The first photo is them attempting to sit up for a picture.

“You guys are so drunk.”

“M’not drunk.” Harry glances at Millie and Jess, who were behind the camera. “M’Harry! Who’s drunk?”

Harry’s rebuttal left both of them bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Haz, Jess wants a picture of us, pleeeeaaaase?”

Harry holds himself up by leaning back with one hand on the ground, the other arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder. He then turns to nuzzle his nose into her hair.

“Y’so pretty.” he murmurs drunkenly into her ear.

“Shut up, you’re drunk.”

“M’not, m’serious.”

 The last one from that night was them cuddling on the sofa at the end of their night, Harry’s face nuzzled into her shoulder as they slept soundly well into the afternoon.

His fingertips brushed across his favorite photo of them. They were working together at the bakery, and Harry had just traced his flour dipped fingertips in a line across Y/N’s cheek before she retaliated by sweeping some icing across the bridge of his nose. He grins from ear to ear at the memory.

“Hey Y/N, guess what?”

She turned around to face him when he abruptly drew a line with his flour dipped fingertips across her cheek.

Her jaw went slack at his bold action before icing was swiped across the bridge of his nose.

“Now we’re even.” that is, until she flicks some of the remaining blue icing from her fingers onto his face. 

“Aw, c’mon!” he wipes his face with his apron before narrowing his eyes. “Really?”

“You started it.” she pointed out and Harry gave her a shrug.

“I am so gonna get you back the next time we bake at my house.”

His eyes fall down to her desk, and he promises he didn’t mean to see it. It was his name, in her handwriting, written in purple gel pen inside an open book. Was it a journal?

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary, 

Shit.

He looked away for a moment, lip caught between his teeth. Should he read it? No, but he couldn’t help himself. 

I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him. 

Him? Who’s she talking about? Does she like someone? The empty feeling in his chest isn’t a good feeling by any means. 

I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend?

All the color drains from Harry’s face. 

“Is she talking about me?” he murmurs.

Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his. 

His heart flutters at the mention of his name, aching at the next line. 

How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much. 

He felt like he was going to cry. How could this girl not know how much of a sucker he is for her? His heart thumped inside his chest and he could feel the heat radiating off his flushed cheeks.

Okay, don’t panic. Just calm down, don’t freak out.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he had just read whilst trying to decide what to do. Does he just tell her? Show her the page? No, she’ll be so angry that he read her diary, who does that? 

In that moment, he chooses to do the only thing that makes sense.

He listens to his heart.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

She’d just hopped out of the shower when she heard a knock on her bathroom door.

“Hey, s’just me.” Harry’s voice clarifies through the wood. “Already ordered some food, m’gonna go and pick it up, I’ll be back.”

“I can go with you if you want-”

“No, s’okay! Be back in fifteen.”

And he’s gone.

After exiting her bathroom, she changes into some comfy clothes before deciding to read something from her book collection until Harry gets back. WHen she turns to go over to her bookshelves, she sees it.

A familiar lavender book, her diary, was lying open on her desk, and her heart sinks. Had he read what she’d written earlier? That must be why he was in such a hurry to leave! She probably scared him off. Y/N’s heart was racing as she stepped closer and realised that the page the diary was open to wasn’t written in her handwriting.

It was Harry’s handwriting.

Hi lovie, it’s Harry. 

I was too nervous to tell you this to your face, so I’m gonna write out my feelings. 

You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I absolutely adore everything about you. 

I love how you talk in your sleep, and yes, you do talk in your sleep. I know how much you love to snuggle when you’re sleepy or sad or you just want a cuddle...and how you still sleep with a night light on like when we were small. You always tell me it’s so you can see in case you need to get up and have a wee in the middle of the night, but I know it’s because you’re still scared of the dark.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Was she dreaming?

I love how you crinkle your nose when you laugh, and how your smile glows like moonlight and how you play with your hands when you don’t know what to say. I love your love for books, and how much better your taste in music is than me. I love how you love to snuggle, especially when you’re...inebriated.

She giggles silently to herself, because he was so right. Not that he was any better.

I could go on forever, but I don’t wanna get caught writing this.

I am so in love with you, Y/N.

Love, H. x 

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. Her heart was warm, but she was so nervous. What does this mean for them? How will this affect their friendship? Hundreds of questions run through her brain until she hears a knock on the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” she whispers. “Okay, just... be chill, please be chill.”

Trying to calm herself down in a matter of seconds was pointless. Walking over to the door, she took a deep breath in before opening the door.

“Hi.” he blinks at her, letting out a light laugh before setting down the two paper bags in his hands. “M’back. They didn’t have the-”

“I read it.”

He avoids her gaze and he feels frozen by her words, digging his vans into the carpet.

“Harry.” she breathes. “Say something.”

His eyes flicker to meet hers, taking a step forward.

“I...I love you.”

Y/N feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest, like she just came for air after being kept under water for too long. 

“If this makes things weird, I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, but I love you to pieces and I-”

“I love you too.” 

His smile is pure joy before he takes her hand in his, pulling her closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” he begs, almost breathless. “Please.”

She nods, and he cradles her cheeks in his hands, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.  

His lips were so soft, moving with hers like they were made for each other.

Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, her thighs straddling his hips and she sat across his lap. Her hands were in his hair, the fluttery tendrils twirled around her fingers. His hands are settled on her waist, slowly moving to her thighs.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs the serious question against her lips and she nods quickly. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” he breathes. “M’just checkin’.” 

“It’s okay.” she laughs breathlessly against his lips. “Everything's okay.”

Reluctantly, he pulls back slightly to look at her, searching for any sort of doubt, but there was none.

“Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

His voice is cautious. “M’not goin’ anywhere, ever. Don’t have to rush anything.”

“Just go with the flow, H.” she murmurs, sliding her hands up his clothed biceps.

“Sorry, who are you?” he raises his eyebrows, a baffled expression on his face. “Since when do you ever go with the flow?”

“A lot of things have changed today.” she confesses, hands resting on his shoulders. “Why not?”

They’d always felt so safe with each other, so now was no different. 

They both dived back into the kiss. Harry’s tongue swiped across her bottom lip, testing the waters before lips and tongue worked together to deepen the kiss.

“Wanna ride my thigh?” he wonders, mumbling against her lips. “Don’t have to if-”

“Yeah. yes.” she gulps, moving to slide her shorts down while he shuffles out of his jeans. Once they were both without pants, they didn’t waste anymore time.

“C’mere, darlin’.” he flicked his fingers, encouraging her back onto his lap.

“Just feel my touch.”

The tone of his voice was unbelievably hot, raspy and low as their lips continuously brushed. His hands grip her hips, guiding her movements.

“Feel good?” he suckles on her bottom lip, drawing a whimper past her lips. She’s rocking against his bare thigh, coarse hair stimulating her even closer to the edge.

“Feels so good, Harry.” 

Her moans are nothing short of melodic, chasing her orgasm through the lace. He pushes her t-shirt up, kisses are decorated down her neck until his mouth is on one of her breasts. She tilts her head back at the suckling sensation with another moan, and it’s so fucking intoxicating to Harry. His tongue flicks her nipple a few more times before lifting his head.

“Like that?” he hums, moving to cup her breasts. She nods and his thumbs start to tweak her nipples and she arches her back at the feeling.

“Harry.” she whimpers, gripping the material of his shirt in her fists. “Please.”

“Whatcha need, tell me darlin’.”

“M’gonna come, m’gonna come.”

He gives a thick moan, hands moving to hold her backside. “Know you are. C’mon angel, you can let go.”

His sweet words coax her through her orgasm as she’s coming down, and she feels like she’s floating.

“Did you like that?”

“Mhm.” she nods, her eyes fluttering closed as Harry’s hand brushes some baby hairs off her forehead. “Wanna keep going.”

“Jeez, at least let me take you out to dinner first.”

[clvmtines]

welcome aboard, clementine martinez, student #2. we are excited to set sail with you !  has anyone told you that you look like alexa demie? according to our records, you hail from florida, usa, prefer she / her pronouns, are a cis woman, and are here to study creative writing. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your online lottery win — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + charming, + free-spirited, but also - restive. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the billiards room. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a casino chip carried around for luck from home. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hi friends! i’m very excited to be here. i’m jay (est, she/her) n i used to play astrid nyland a few months ago if anyone remembers bt i had to leave for personal reasons. i’m so glad to be back now that i hve life sorted and some free time for summer break <3 read on for some details abt this new muse of mine, clementine. 

01. biography !

so ! clementine was born in florida. & yes, her real name is clementine. her mom thot it was the cutest name idea ever. clementine mostly goes by clem. she comes from the town [redacted] in florida bcoz i am too lazy to look up a specific town <3 but alas ! it was swampy and humid and she lived in a trailer park. 

her parents got knocked up at nineteen. clem was born nine months after a particularly wild 1999 fourth of july. her birthday is march 26th and she’s an aries. 

(TW: addiction, child injury) clem’s dad was a gambling addict and petty criminal—he wld steal credit cards n whatnot. he wld gamble away diaper money n it would cause constant fighting until her dad finally left. her mom took this very hard n began drinking a bit too often, leaving clem to to make cereal for dinner n fend for herself. once clem tried to make hot dogs on the stove and spilled boiling water on herself. got a p bad burn on her arm/shoulder and still has a big scar.

the soundtrack of her childhood was cicadas buzzing and stray dogs barking. the sizzle and pop of natty light cans. turning up her ipod to max volume to drown out the sounds of her mother fighting with her new boyfriend.

throughout her upbringing, clem’s dad was always in and out of the picture. he’d blow into town when he hit it big. he’d take her on these little “adventures” like staying in a motel 6 n renting movies at block buster n ordering good pizza nt the dominos shit she ate with her mom lol. ofc he was charging it all to someone’s stolen credit card. he’d always promise to, like, take clem away. n clem was a daddy’s girl so she believed him. the last time it happened was her h.s. graduation. her mom didn’t show ( "overslept” after a bender ) but her dad did and surprised her n said everything wld be different. bt then he bailed on their plans for the next day n when she called his cell, the number was disconnected. tht was the defining “i’m done” moment. clem promised to never be disappointed by her father again.

(TW: racism) her mother has mexican ancestry and clem’s always been called her twin. but clem was raised in a predominately white area and honestly ?? it was really hard without her even realizing it. she’s still unpacking a lot of things today abt her youth that jst weren’t okay bt she thought were normal. like microaggressions, stereotypes, being fetishized by boys in high school. gross shit.

as a kid, clem was rumored to be really poor bc she wore tattered clothes n got free lunch at school. once she invited a friend to her house & the next day they told everyone it’s in a trailer park. that reputation—the “trailer park girl”—was really hard to shake. and clem got almost desperate to shake it. she was endlessly trying to set her old self on fire and emerge from the ashes like a phoenix.

eventually clem became more “popular”. in school she was, like, a straight b student. very average although super creative and quick-thinking. she always had street smarts. problem solving skills. independence. more of, like, practical intelligence as opposed to book smarts because academia bores her tbh. she was like why am i reading these overrated boring books by dead white men or learning abt polynomials when i know nothing abt how to pay a mortage or do taxes. like...she saw the american education system as bullshit and put in modest effort because she didn’t believe it deserved her sweat and tears. 

however, she entered the online lottery for the seas program on a whim and got in. so she’s studying creative writing now.

02. personality !

first thing you shld know abt clem is that she’s a compulsive liar essentially—she tells various stories to make her life seem better than what it was. to one person, she’s an heiress to a real estate company and grew up wealthy. to the next she was raised by nomadic hippies. some of her lies are small fibs while others are grandiose tales. she rarely talks about her actual upbringing. she hates talking abt her family or the v real trauma of growing up in a household where both parents struggled w/ addiction; the uncertainty, the broken promises, the fact that she had to grow up so soon and deal w/ so much. it wasn’t fair, and if she thinks about it too much, she feels this anger. anger at the universe. anger at her circumstances. she doesn’t know where to put this anger. she doesn’t know how to shrink it. so she avoids it.

despite her rough upbringing, though, clem is actually really sweet and kind. she’s adventurous, fun-loving, free-spirited, and bold. 

bt ! she can also be closed-off, competitive and restive. 

she’s seemingly tight with everyone? like she’s jst that girl who can get along with anyone tbh. 

in her spare time you can catch her tanning by the pool, hanging at the bar, playing pool ( which she learned from her dad ), and socializing. she’ll never say no to hanging out with people. 

she learned a lot from her little “adventures” with her dad, who was very good at conning others and often involved her in his dumb little scams. clem is suuuper good at pulling the ‘im baby 🥺’ card to get what she wants.

she can be a little selfish, because she grew up looking out for herself. 

stubborn and dogmatic as hell !!!

she doesn’t do too many relationships but when she does fall, i imagine she falls hard and fast. she refuses to be made a fool of, tho. when she gets vulnerable she flashes back to being a kid, waiting all day for her dad to show up only to have him bail on her. again. she hates that feeling. so if she, like, senses a shift in someone’s energy she’ll b like, “i’ll break up with u before u can do it to me” and the person wasn’t even tryna dump her lmao.

has a lot of sex. too much ?? sex?? mayb. but she’s v sex positive.

her personal style is v late 90s. hair clips, big scrunchies, neon, fur trim, crop and tube tops, hoop earrings, chokers, patterns, platform shoes, biodegradable glitter cuz it’s good fr the earth *winks*. clothes from o-mighty.......actually jst google o mighty, pull up the images and That is clem. she dresses like a bratz doll. she’s dedicated to the aesthetic.

03. headcanons !

her item brought from home is a hot pink poker chip from a casino. her dad gave it to her. he said it reminded him of her because of the color; he got it during one of his winning streaks and said it was lucky. she has a complicated relationship w/ her dad n doesn’t even speak to him anymore, bt she will never go anywhere without it.

she’s a smol bean—only 5′4

an astrology girl and she reads palms ! she absolutely makes astrology tik toks that people only watch because she’s hot. her flirting technique is to ask you to read your palm.

she doesn’t typically drink to get drunk. but she does love a good sugary cocktail. to her, a drink is like an accessory. a blue fishbowl by the pool, a jack and coke as she stands around a bar. usually she'll nurse the same beverage for a while. if you see her wasted it usually means she’s going thru it emotionally lol. the one thing she does do is drugs tho 

pretty much listens to exclusively female artists.

a bit of an activist. environmentalism, feminism and the like, she’s v outspoken. vegan for ethical reasons (TW: drugs) bt still does cocaine. she wears shirts with ‘my pussy my choice’ bedazzled on the front.

loves to rollerblade ! back home she didn’t have a car so she’d bike or rollerblade. now she still has her blades and she’ll use them when the ship docks. 

03. wanted connections !

Friends, bffs, ride or dies, friends who are like siblings to her, maybe a friend with an unrequited crush on either side ??

an ex she dumped/cheated on/otherwise self sabotaged their relationship because she was afraid of vulnerability.

an ex friend who realized she lies a lot abt herself n felt betrayed. OH ! ESP if they opened up to her on many occasions abt intimate, personal stuff. imagine the betrayal they felt when they found that everything they thought they knew abt clem is a lie.

someone who she actually opens up to. a confidant. or, maybe, like, a stranger she drunkenly spilled her soul to and now she avoids them like the plague.

a rival. clem can be competitive.

her drug dealer 

someone she knows she shouldn’t hook up with and… does it anyways. like a friend’s ex or smthing. spicy <3

i welcome anything !

[wazafam]

K-dramas have a theme for about anything a viewer is looking for. There are suspense, dramas, thrillers, and highly popular love stories. Some may not want to admit it, but love stories involving falling in love with the boss is a guilty pleasure.

RELATED: 10 Best Time Travel K-Dramas, Ranked (According To IMDb)

Maybe it involves the shy new girl who catches the eye of the handsome and rich CEO. In some cases, the power play is reversed. Regardless, K-dramas have a way of hooking in audiences with their dynamic storylines. If looking for some new K-dramas to add to your roster of must-watch, look no further. Here's a list to get you started.

Updated on April 22nd, 2021, by Gabriela Silva: There's a storyline for every K-drama fan to enjoy from thrillers and the supernatural to unique romances. To add a level of intrigue to a love story what better way than to center it around the blossoming love of a worker and their boss. K-dramas are no stranger to the storyline theme and are quite popular. It's a fairytale story that fans wish happened in real life. 

15 Oh My Ghost (2015)

Oh My Ghost is one of the most recognized supernatural dramas. It focuses on three main characters and the main love story is between a young woman and her boss who's a famous chef. There's a catch. Na Bong-Sun (Park Bo-Young) is shy and timid and has a huge crush on her boss. She can also see spirits.

One day, she's possessed by a young lustful female spirit who believes the only way to go to the afterlife is by losing her virginity. Being the puppet of the ghost, Bong-Sun now becomes a firecracker and confident woman who catches her boss's eye.

14 Radiant Office (2017)

The 2017 drama, Radiant Office has multiple elements that make it a fun boss-employee storyline. Eun Ho-Won (Go Ah-Sung) is down on her luck looking for work and attempts suicide. At the hospital, she learns she terminally ill but succeeds at landing a job.

With a new purpose in life, Ho-Won takes on her new job with full force. Her superior and boss, Seo Woo-Jin (Ha Seok-Jin) thinks she's a huge pain in the neck and often bickers. Their odd relationship might just turn into something more.

13 Protect The Boss (2011)

This K-drama doesn't have the typical boss characteristics seen in other shows. Protect the Boss centers around Cha Ji-Heon (Ji Sung), a childish director at DN Group. He soon meets his match in his new secretary, Noh Eun-Seol (Choi Kang-Hee).

Eun-Seol is determined to not lose her first professional job and gives it her all. Her kind and spunky demeanor start to attract Ji-Heon. That's not all, the drama has a love triangle between Ji-Heon and his rival and cousin, Cha MuWwon (Kim Jae-Joong).

12 Master's Sun (2013)

Master's Sun is another K-drama with a supernatural base. Tae Kong-Shil (Gong Hyo-Jin) gains the ability to see ghosts after a bizarre accident. Her abilities leave her unable to keep a solid job. Kong-Shil works as a cleaning lady at Kingdom's, a conglomerate company, shopping mall.

She soon meets the company's cold and distant CEO, Joo Joong-Won (So Ji-Sub). In a turn of events, whenever Long-Shil touches Joong-Won, the ghosts disappear. After some begging, Joong-Won stays by her side in return for her help in recovering something stolen from him.

11 Jugglers (2017)

2017 was a good year to binge-watch multiple boss-employee relationship K-dramas. Jugglers followed the trend and revolved around a secretary and her cold as ice boss. Jwa Yoon-Yi (Baek Jin-Hee) is a devoted and diligent secretary whose put on hold when her boss's wife accuses her of having an affair with her husband.

On the other end, Nam Chi-Won (Daniel Choi) is assigned to be the managing director at Yoon-Yi's company. Yoon-Yi becomes his secretary. Chi-Won suffers from childhood trauma and is indifferent to socializing. After Yoon-Yi gets drunk at a dinner party, Chi-Won takes her home and realizes she lives in the place where his trauma originated. Seeing the 'tenant wanted' sign on her door, he becomes her neighbor to overcome his past.

10 My Secret Romance (2017)

What happens when you meet your one-night stand three years later? To make matters worse he happens to be your new boss. Lee Yoo-Mi (Song Ji-Eun) is insecure about herself but has to attend her mother's weddings. She meets Cha Jin-Wook (Sung Hoon). They're less than cordial with one another but soon start to feel an attraction and spend the night.

Yoo-mi is unaware of who he really is and flees the following morning. Years later she is hired to be his nutritionist. Jin-Wook changed his ways after that night and takes over his father's company and never forgot Yoo-mi. He tries to romance her and get to admit her feelings for him. Interwoven is a storyline involving Yoo-mi's baby brother that is blown out of proportion on who the father is.

9 Rich Man (2018)

Rich Man might also be known for its original Japanese television drama version, Rich Man, Poor Woman. The K-drama was a 2018 remake that did well on television. The show takes an interesting route with the main male character. The CEO of a popular IT company has a facial recognition disability.

This has caused him the inability to recognize his first love. At an employee recruitment meeting, he picks on a particular girl with photogenic memory. She stands up to the mean CEO and says something that catches his interest. She ends up working for the company and helping the CEO.

8 Strong Girl Bong-soon (2017)

Strong Girl Bong-Soon is a highly popular K-drama and has a lot of the same characteristics of an employee falling in love with their boss. A young girl is born with unexplainable superhuman strength. It's more of a family trait. This leads to an intriguing storyline.

After beating up some bullies, she is hired by a rich CEO of a gaming company. While having a crush on her friend, she starts to realize who she really has feelings for. All while protecting her CEO from a possible threat and kidnapper.

7 My Shy Boss (2017)

Sometimes opposites attract in the most bizarre way possible. My Shy Boss or Introverted Boss follows the tumultuous relationship between a CEO and his new employee. The CEO of a public relations firm is the exact opposite of what one expects.

RELATED: 10 Best K-Drama “Second Lead” Couples That Every Fan Rooted For

He's highly introverted, shy, sensitive, and can come off as cold. On the other hand, the company hires a new employee who is extroverted, loud, and not afraid to speak her mind. She takes an interest in the CEO and wants to uncover who he really is under his hood.

6 Lucky Romance (2016)

Audiences will surely have a good laugh with this K-drama with its peculiar antics. In Lucky Romance, a 26-year-old attractive woman is highly superstitious believing she was born unlucky. She follows every precaution possible and consults a shaman about her sister. The only way to save her? She has to sleep with a man born in the year of the tiger.

She soon meets a CEO and genius game developer. Who happens to fit her criteria. Their personalities clash, but Shim Bo-Nui (Hwang Jung-Eum) is determined to see save her sister even if it means wooing her boss.

5 Level Up (2019)

Level Up follows a lot of the typical boss-employee storyline details; mixed in with some drama. This CEO specializes in helping reconstruct failing companies. He takes on a company called Joybuster despite his previous childhood trauma with gaming.

As the new CEO of the company, he soon meets its head designer. A passionate and sweet young woman clashes heads with a cold and meticulous boss. Will they put their differences aside and complete their new game and maybe fall in love?

4  Hotel Del Luna (2019)

Hotel Del Luna is a fan favorite amongst K-dramas. It mixes the supernatural with some dramatic romance. Jang Man-Wol (Lee Ji-Eun) is moody and bad-tempered for having to run Hotel Del Luna for the past thousands of years. She must atone for her indiscretions and change her attitude.

The hotel is only visible to souls, ghosts, and humans at special times of the year. Things heat up when the hotel gets a new general manager due to a contract signed by his father. Gu Chan-sung (Yeo Jin-goo) is a stoic MBA graduate who has to confront his fear of ghosts. He soon changes his demeanor and helps melt Man-Wol's heart and keep her safe.

3 She Was Pretty (2015)

She Was Pretty is a fun roller coaster ride for anyone who watches. Fans of Parasite will recall the lead actor in this drama.  Two childhood friends grow up on the opposite ends of the spectrum for both success and looks. Kim Hye-jin (Hwang Jung-Eum) ended up having her father's red cheeks and frizzy hair, while Ji Sung-Joon (Park Seo-Joon) becomes a strikingly handsome man.

RELATED: 10 K-Dramas With A Vampire Storyline, Ranked (According To IMDb)

They decide to reconnect but Hye-jin backs out seeing how much they've changed. Instead, he mistakes her best friend for her creating a fake love story. Sung-Joon then becomes her boss at her magazine company unaware of who she really is. Will Sung-Joon recognize his first love and fall head over heels? Or will her co-worker woo her away?

2 What's Wrong With Secretary Kim (2018)

What's Wrong With Secretary Kim is at the top of the list and regarded as one of the best romance K-dramas when it comes to the employee-boss dynamic. Kim Mi-so (Park Min-young) has been Lee Young-Joon's (Park Seo-Joon) right-hand woman for years as his secretary. Her announcement of resignation doesn't sit well with her cold and professional boss.

He then starts to see her in a different light beyond the professional. There's jealousy, romantic gestures, and changing of heart in his drama. Not to mention there are some steamy kissing scenes. Young-Joon will do whatever he can to keep Mi-so in his life.

1 My Private Life (2019)

Park Min-Young is back as Sun Deok-Mi in My Private Life. The show is based on a popular Korean webtoon. Deok-Mi is a talented and highly regarded art curator who harbors a secret. She's an obsessed fangirl. Her secret can ruin her career at the museum. An acclaimed but retired artist, Ryan Gold (Kim Jae-Wook) becomes the museum's new boss.

After some rumors spread, Gold and Doek-Mi must pretend to date to stop scrutiny towards her favorite idol and new museum client. Fake dating soon starts to blossom into real love. Deok-Mi must try and let go of her secret fan page and obsession.

NEXT: The 10 Best K-Dramas With More Than One Season, Ranked (According To IMDb)

10 K-Dramas About Falling In Love With The Boss | ScreenRant from https://ift.tt/32fsvjl

[isrustandstardust]

1. What type of criminal would you be?

A very very sick serial killer like Ed Gein.

2. What are you listening to right now?

I lived with a Killer. I watch it every morning.

3. If you had to choose a stripper name, what would it be?

Vixen.

4. If your phone started ringing, who would you hope is calling?

Nobody, I hate talking on the phone.

5. Do you drink?

A little.

6. Do you smoke?

Way too much.

7. What is the first thing you notice in someone?

Eyes, attitude.

8. Do you get attached easily?

Definitely no.

9. Do you like your eye color?

It’s pretty common but I like it.

10. Have any stupid human tricks?

11. Humor me. What physical ideal do you imagine in a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner?

I don’t have an ideal. I like blue eyes, but it’s not a must have. I don’t dwell a lot on physical features.

12. What type of personality traits do you look for in a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner?

Honesty, kindness, intelligence and a little bit of perversion.

13. Any other essential quirks/interests/other you look for in a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner?

I need someone with similar interests.

14. Any romantic gestures you really like?

I’m not into romantic gestures at all.

15. Any sexual fantasies? Are you daring enough to share one?

I have lots, but I keep them private.

16. Have you ever been in love?

Once.

17. Do you have a crush/romantic interest in anyone?

I’m in love with my husband.

18. What’s your sexual orientation (if you feel comfortable answering)?

Bi.

19. What’s your favorite color and why?

I’d say black but technically it’s not a color. So I’ll say orange and teal.

20. What was your most embarrassing moment?

I really can’t remember one.

21. Do you ever wish you were someone else?

It happens.

22. What were you like when you were a kid?

Awkward xD

23. What would your dream house be like?

Full of light, with a big garden.

24. What last made you laugh?

My husband being silly.

25. Do you have a place you like to go to collect your thoughts?

I stay at home when I need to.

26. What is your favorite/least favorite food?

I like red meat and I do not eat bread or pasta.

27. What turns you on?

Intelligence and perversion.

28. What turns you off?

Stupidity.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Once.

30. Would you go bungee jumping/sky diving if given the chance?

Yup.

31. Do you have any siblings?

A younger brother.

32. Do you like to dance?

A lot.

33. What is your definition of cheating?

Doing something you cannot talk about with your partner.

34. Have you ever stolen anything?

Yes.

35. Do you regret anything?

I could have done a few thing better.

36. Do you have any phobias?

Arachnophobia, thalassophobia, atelophobia.

37. Ever broken any bones?

No, never.

38. Ever come close to death?

Twice.

39. What is your religion/spirituality, if any?

It’s a really complex matter.

40. Have you ever been to a psychiatrist/therapist?

Yes, with no use.

41. Are looks important in a relationship?

No.

42. Are you more like your mom or your dad?

I’m not like my parents.

43. What is your favorite season?

Autumn.

44. Do you have any tattoos?

I have 15.

45. Do you have any piercings?

Not atm, but I’d love to get pierced again in the future.

46. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had?

5 boyfriends, 1 girlfriend.

47. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Like, always xD.

48. What is your favorite thing to do?

Drawing.

49. If you could only visit one place outside of your hometown, where would it be?

Iceland.

50. Do you get jealous easily?

No, not at all. But I get jealous with a reason.

51. What is your favorite type of food?

Low calories food.

52. Do you ever want to get married?

I am married.

53. Who was your first kiss with?

My best friend at the time.

54. How many people have you kissed?

I don’t know tbh.

55. What is your idea of the perfect date?

Being with someone I like.

56. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

Introvert, almost asocial.

57. Do you believe in life on other planets, ghosts, or mythical creatures?

I believe in life in the universe.

58. What talent do you wish you’d been born with?

The kind of music talent my husband has.

59. What is your saddest memory?

All the memories related to my mother.

60. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Yes.

61. Do you believe in soul mates?

Yes.

62. Have you ever dyed your hair?

A lot. Pink, blue, red, purple, blonde, gray, orange.

63. Has someone ever spread a nasty rumor about you?

You have no idea XD

64. Would you go against your moral code for money?

It depends on how much money.

65. What are three things most people don’t know about you?

I have several personality disorders [family and friends do not know], I can write backwards like DaVinci, I’m into pretty weird stuff.

66. Have you ever been diagnosed with depression?

Yes.

67. Have you ever contemplated suicide?

Yes.

68. How long was your longest relationship?

4 years and counting.

69. Is the glass half empty or half full?

I don’t know, is it alcoholic?

70. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

Leeet’s not go there...

71. Who is your most loyal friend?

My best friend Francesca.

72. If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, what is your favorite thing about him/her?

He’s a good man.

73. What is your favorite thing about your body and your personality?

I like my hands and lips. And I like my wit and sarcasm.

74. Are you a bad person?

Maybe.

75. Are you a lover or a fighter?

Both.

76. What did you do on your last birthday?

Had dinner with husband and friends.

77. What is your favorite quote and why?

So it goes. It helps me let things go.

78. If your best friend died, what would you do?

I’d be crushed I guess.

79. If you had to go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?

Human evolution?

80. If you only had 24 hours to live, what would you do?

I’d love to be by the lake one last time.

81. What is the strangest dream you’ve ever had?

Where do I start? I dream about apocalyptic end of the world pretty much every night.

82. Are you happier single or in a relationship?

Being single or in a relationship does not define my happiness.

83. Who were you in a past life?

A witch.

84. What is your happiest childhood memory?

Me and my dad watching western movies.

85. Have you ever experienced unrequited love?

Yes.

86. Have you ever had an imaginary friend?

No, it I had an imaginary guardian angel when I was young.

87. What is the story behind one of your scars?

My scars are from self harming.

88. What is your ideal career?

The one I have.

89. Do you want kids?

Maybe, in the future.

90. Do you live with your parents?

No, I’m not 8.

91. Do you have any pets?

Not atm. I want a Rottweiler and a Sphynx tho.

92. How do you feel about PDA?

I’m ok with that, I’m very affectionate.

93. If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?

People.

94. Where would you like to live?

Iceland.

95. Where would you go on your dream vacation?

I’d love to visit Japan, Russia and Iceland.

96. Describe yourself in one word.

Smart.

97. Describe yourself in one sentence.

‘You seek traumas as the night seeks dreams’.

98. Where do you see yourself in five years?

I honestly have no idea, I guess still here, with a better house and still doing my things :)

99. What is your greatest accomplishment?

Overcoming my mental illnesses enough to function as a normal human being.

100. What is the meaning of life?

42.

[theblackandwhitespacecadet]

About my GoFund Me Campaign

Update: 22/09/2019

I am a proud Mummy to beautiful Miss Shyloh-Marie & Future Wife to Craig Daniel Van Oosten, A Rare chronic Illness Warrioress...

Excluding Certain area's of my childhood I feel a need to share with my friends what I could never say. Now 35+ year's on, the monster remains, hauntingly near me. I have battled, struggled & lost because of Eating Issues for the majority of my life. But more recently due to factors beyond my control, the choice to eat has no longer become of my volition. My entire GI system is progressively becoming paralysed. The consequences of this are not clear enough to be treated as they are a direct complication of both severe Anorexia leading me through both Cachexia & at times Sarcopenia & a rare condition called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Some no'one have guessed Would have anything to do with either conditions. But why? is this, it's because People perceive what that Will, Little is actually Told of the true insurgient truth's, People Don't take the illness Seriously due To how common or fashionable these illness's had become, apparently.... (that's not saying they don't care), they do, their feelings have been tuned out & their frequency has been muffled by their own pain in life. Eating Disorder's have dated back to when whale bones were used as corsage & before bra's were invented & "Eating" & "Disorder" are a poor use of words as the causes have very little to do with actual "Disordered" Eating & everything to do with accepting who we are which is a symptom of a very deep underlying problems with emotional health that have nothing do with eating at all. But what for me came first, the chicken or the egg???? I’ve spent time donateing my body as a guinea pig so to speak for invaluable research to discover a strong correlation with both GI disorders & Anorexia Nervosa, more research is on the way!

I recently was diagnosed with an umbrella of rare & debilitating illnesses Firstly Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, the types have recently been recategorised to help medical teams distinguish between the symptoms loft better as research is being done wherever it can be afforded. However, unfortunately many beautiful people have lost their fight whilst they have tried to seek appropriate treatment & management for this insidious condition.

I have the rare form of two kinds that crossover, an even rarer occurrence of when Vascular type is seen alongside the most common form of classical. Because collagen makes up at least 85% of our bodies in each systemic function of the body all organs, vessels & connective tissue are in effect "Falling apart" these two words have been said to me by many Dr's & yet at the same time they've said do everything you want to do. Do it now before you age more & subsequently lose more ability. Back when I was born so very little was known of Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, my parents cannot be blamed for not knowing about these conditions. Regardless, they just couldn’t have understood my behavioural reactions to the troubles I kept silent, but that has literally torn our family apart on so many levels, we are estranged & this crushes me in ways my existence could never have been imagined.

I have Dysautonomia which causes Gastroparesis & more recently Intestinal Dysmotility & paralysis, where I'm certain my years of anorexic behaviour, due to dreadful emotional trauma had a huge impact on the manifestations of my health.

haven't helped at all & strange in contrast now is the fact that now I want to live, eat & grow my stomach has given up on me & to do so isn't beneficial.

I can however feel hunger, so it's a form of torture. I've also been in CCU for many smaller scale MI's that have lead to being diagnosed with LongQTsyndrome (Brugada) which is frightening, because it is the same type of sudden Arrythmic death syndrome that sports people have been found to suddenly drop on fields from. Lately other conditions that are linked have been exacerbated by Each other genetically. Once the systems of the body are damaged From Starvation & trauma, they then start affecting the genes. Nervous system Starvation leads To Myeln sheath or epithelial Cells To be destroyed because the Complex fatty acids that protect the Nerves are eaten away Once the mitochondria has digested all available sources of fats in the body this then destroys Brain tissue which is fatty acids From Omega 3 amongst other's. As a result of Being starved/neglected as an infant, I developed Anorexia. As a consequence of Anorexia I now have autoimmune disorders, (Lupus) these flare Inflammatory responses to sugars & proteins making it even more difficult to stay reasonably healthy. Collagen cannot be replaced, restored by re-feeding, as I found out the hard way. Anyone That eats can become unwell, These conditions are extremely rare, estimated around 1/500,000 people will be born without the gene to make their own collagen.

Every living thing must consume to survive Life whether they are young, old, thin, gay, or ethnic background.

Ahhh, so that's done for now...

Regardless of what my physical vehicle in this life causes me though, I feel I'm growing stronger in my soul... I don't hold grudges or allow negativity to stop me chasing my dreams, I love theatre (I miss it) & have many similar media skills, a patent called ZeraphicGraphics© Aspirations to touch as many lives with humanity & unconditional love as possible & travel to spend time with the most inspiring people in the world! I love being where the thrill of art in many forms helps people live. My one dream mentor (of almost 20 years) still inspires me today, even more in recent times when with amazement she was cast in a wonderful show on pay TV.

I chose to not allow my illness to be the main focus though, It's hard with a feeding tube not to feel that this is what people see... I feel often that I'm invisable behind the stripes of these conditions. So escape is rather important in the form of Arts!

Update 5/04/2018

Almost a year ago, after being fed by tubes directly into my intestine (after some proper nutrition) I found out I was expecting my miracle baby, Shyloh-Marie... So many turns, twists & tribulations! But we are all alive, grateful & looking forward. Still being a warrior, being a pin cushion like a pro & trying to make things more visible for those like me in the world... We are currently struggling with bubs sleep pattern, but other than that she is more joy than life itself! I have been able to see my now “friend in the theatre” Pamela Rabe at least twice more since our first meeting in Melbourne & I’ve finally found one of the most important people to me from my Carramar year’s... I cannot believe it’s been over 25 years ago that I was a teen, I am very privileged to be able to say this. Maybe, I will write that book! Maybe it will be a best seller lol....

Sarah-Marie Seraphic-McFarlane (Van Oosten)

My darling fiancé is my rock, we are twin flames, we met in a children’s home for adolescents, we have found each other again as we always had hoped might be possible & if possible, we hoped to have healed in the time apart. In these times precious relationships for Craig, were formed & he had a beautiful son as well to a former partner in our time apart. To such pride he was a wonderful dad but sadly, his sweet first born son passed away from a rare condition known as Menkes Disease. Since we have formed our own little family & are wanting to be married next April, we have a fundraiser to help us, as medical cost are exorbitant with my being on peptide pump feeds for nutrition, medication & treatments for a blood disorder yet to be diagnosed officially.

[1112pm]

I come from a generation of women who have dealt with situations that made them grow vindictive and hard around the edges that were made to be the softest. I come from a generation of women who have been called crazy, a little unwell and a little unlovable.

My great-grandmother lived in the time when feet had to be crushed small, when the bones you were born with weren’t good enough and had to be wrapped in layers of bandage and made to bleed until beautiful. My great-grandmother didn’t live very long but lived just enough to give life to so many children that my grandmother was the one she sold off to another family for money.

My grandmother sold cabbage on the streets of sidewalks as a young teenager. Later on, I would understand why my grandmother took home left-over french fries from Mcdonald’s to reheat later and kept every extra ketchup packet. She would scold my mother for throwing away moldy bread and food that had been long-expired. My mother would often tell me quietly, “your grandmother is a war-victim” as if she was afraid I would be ashamed, as if I didn’t understand. And I didn’t.

I think my grandmother fell in love, once. Once was enough for her to question all male identity and to remind me so when I came home in the 2nd grade and told her about the boy who gave me a flower. “You can’t trust them,” she would say in Chinese when the language barrier had not yet grown too thick. I would just nod and forget, nod and forget.

She fell in love with the man who she would later walk in on with another woman. The other woman would be her best friend who had only one arm. My mother tells me, though, that my grandmother did not cry. But not only does infidelity break a woman’s heart– she hated herself for not being as worthy as another woman who had no arm. At the time I shamefully wondered if maybe there was something more to it than a lost arm. Regardless, nobody could tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that there was nothing wrong with her, that she didn’t need to change.

But I think she did, anyway.

Spite became the soul of my grandmother but when I look into her eyes, I know that she is wonderful and loving.. that the heart of her is still there even if it was buried beneath years of trauma. Pain can change a person. Pain can change a lot.

She met my grandpa a few years later and had my mother. I’d like to think she did love him, but with more caution and less ease. One morning, while her and my ma were wrapping 粽子 (Taiwanese tamale), she kept dropping them and missing the table. My ma said there was nothing wrong with my grandmother’s eyesight but that something felt wrong about the air.

My grandpa died the next day. That was my grandmother’s last marriage.

Over the years, she would dedicate herself to loving me when my mother was too young to. She would pay for my mother’s trip to America to start her life over and she would raise me to love the color red and big, extravagant hats.

I would sit beside her and watch her reflection in her vanity mirror as she applied bright red lipstick to her lips. She would smile at me, tell me to scoot closer and make me pucker up. I am told that I am more like my grandmother than my own mother sometimes. I wanted to grow up too fast and I wanted to wear heels before I learned how to tie my own shoes and I absolutely loved red nail polish. My grandmother taught me how to be a woman before I could read or write.

My grandmother was my rock. She was my steel soldier, my only guidance to what a woman should be and how a woman should love. And maybe I took too much of what she had said to heart. Maybe I took a part of her coldness with me. But she would be the one who would hold all of my secrets, the fears I had for my biological father, my wishes for her to take my mother and me away. She would be the first number I would dial when he would come home late at night and I knew it was going to be another one of those nights. She would be the first one to teach me how to dial 1-1-9. She would be the one who made sure I was fed, that my skin wasn’t bruised, that my eyes weren’t too soiled, too young. My grandmother was my benchmark of how one could overcome anything, especially my childhood when images felt like glass held between my palms that would bleed and she would be the one to make all of it stop.

I can’t really talk to her anymore. The years and the age have caught up and made her weak in her bones and in her speech. I avoid looking at her sometimes because I feel shame for not taking care of her enough, for not loving her more, for not showing it the best I could, for not being able to communicate and open up like I used to when I was little. Sometimes she’ll look at me and smile, weak but always the same. The kind of smile that says to me I will still love you the way I always have even if time and circumstances and life changes.. even if we change.

I remember hearing a song come up on the television, once and it was the same song she would sing to me when I was little, the same song I would struggle but learn to learn. I asked, excitedly, “Nainai, do you remember this song? It’s the song you used to sing to me!” She would nod and chuckle but in a way that made me realize she couldn’t remember. But she smiled because I did.

And I turned my face quickly to hide away the salt rolling onto my cheeks because my grandmother taught me not to cry.

[dirtylevi]

Allow me to apologize for this mass of canon angst ahead of time, but I have been sitting on this for a long time and I think I’m finally in a mental state where I can write this out without sobbing all over my keyboard. My disclaimer isn’t really necessary for this post, but regardless, you can look at it anyways just in case:

DISCLAIMER: This is my personal opinion. In no way am I stating what I say here is canon or completely accurate. if you disagree with my opinion, that’s perfectly fine! Everyone has a different interpretation, but if you are going to send me messages trying to argue points of view with me or send me hate messages; please do us both a favor and just don’t even bother with it. WARNING: Manga spoilers ahead. Mentions of death, decomposition stages, etc. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Also note that this is just... Rambling tbh. Like, the post is organized, but I don’t even like calling it meta because it’s really not??? Maybe it is, idk. Either way, it happened, it’s sad, and it’s getting posted god dammit.

Now then, you want know what really fucks me up the most about Levi’s incredibly horrid life? His early childhood. Knowing that not only did he have to watch his mother die from illness right in front of him without being able to do anything about it. But, also knowing that after she died, no one in the entire brothel gave enough of a shit to check on either of them despite knowing Kuchel was sick and dying, and knowing she has a little boy living in the room with her.

In the panel above, we see a woman behind Kenny, who I can only assume is one of the working ladies, and we see the owner of the brother informing Kenny that Kuchel “is no longer for sale because someone got her sick a while back.”  This makes it pretty ovbious that it was common knowledge that she was dying in her room, with her son in there with her, and it was something people working in the brothel were well aware of for a long time.

But still, despite knowing, no one fucking checked on her. Not one fucking person working there took it upon themselves to just open her door to see if she was still alive or not. To see if Levi was eating or not. To see if they were okay. You could argue that this was for quarantine purposes, but that doesn’t negate the fact that everyone working there left Kuchel and her son, a child, alone to die while carrying on with business as usual. 

The outright lack of human compassion Levi experienced right out the gate as a child is just astounding to me. Because you have to keep in mind that up until Kenny showed up, or up until Kuchel got sick, these are people Levi was around all the time. These are the people he took cues from as a child, and their treatment of him and of Kuchel were his first experiences of human emotions towards others outside of what he learned from his mother. That lack of outward compassion or even blatant noncaring is something I think shaped him into the very stoic character he is now. Because even Kenny, the murderous hardass in seek of power was far more expressive than Levi has ever been.  

Seriously though, I want you guys to let all of this sink in for a minute:

How long had she been lying in bed like that before she died, and how long had her corpse been there before Kenny showed up? Allow me to answer this for you. A really long time. I’m not going to get into the gritty details of this, but let me just say that Isayama drew Kuchel to be in the Active Decay stage of death here, which is the fourth stage of decomposition out of five. This is made apparent by the tight, dry skin, exposed teeth, etc. She had to have been dead for at least a month for her body to be in this state. 

I have people ask me all the time why I think Levi holds cleanliness in such high regard and fears germs and mold. I’m finally going to thoroughly answer this question:

Considering how neatly tucked into the bed Kuchel is with her head placed perfectly center on a fluffy pillow, and how well preserved her body is in these panels despite knowing she had to have been deceased for a very long time, I can only assume Levi did all he could to preserve her remains (i.e. cleaning her, tucking her into dry blankets to ward off insects, etc). So, not only did Levi grow up in an Underground dump full of people that were sick and dying, but he had to watch his mother wither away from illness too, and care for her despite her already being dead, and starving to near death himself in the process. Plus,it’s been shown that in the underground, it is not uncommon for corpses to be found on the side of streets and that it’s as normal as us seeing a streetlamp. The smell of death there must be something everyone living there is numb to if no one in the vicinity of a brothel noticed the stench of a month old corpse. 

Overall, Levi’s living situation was very bad, but for at least a month, Levi lived in this state:

Huddled on the floor so his mother could remain comfortable in death, as he slowly starved to death while wearing nothing but her tattered shirt. 

I’m well aware that there is no way Levi would have survived that long without water. Especially as a child. But without food? Yes. He could survive that long without food. However, considering the delirious state he seems to be in here, with his eyes bordering on death so severely that even Kenny questions if he’s alive or not, and how dry and shriveled his lips are from apparent dehydration; a few more days, maybe not even that long, and Levi would have been dead too. 

I question how old he is in these panels all the time because you’d think a child would seek help in this situation, yes? But it’s very apparent to me that Levi did not do this. Mainly because the pimp of the place and everyone working there were blissfully unaware that Kuchel was already dead and had been for a long time. Most kids would have been scared, confused, and overwhelmed in this situation. Running to any nearby adult to help them in any way possible. Plus, dying due to starvation is excruciating and very slow. So why didn’t he seek help? 

The only logical conclusion I can appoint to this reasoning from a child in a situation this severe, even if that child is Levi AckermanTM, is that in watching his mother die slowly with absolutely no offer of help from anyone aside from the pimp taking her off the paying roster; he had already concluded that no one cared enough to help him. That he was inevitably alone in this world, and that’s how it was simply meant to be.

Just picture Levi sitting in this room, tending to his mother’s corpse by himself in silence as he hears all the commotion going on in the brothel around him, knowing people are outside. Knowing that they know he’s there with his sick mom, and having them do nothing to help him or check to see how they were doing for months. Sleeping on the floor so Kuchel could remain in the bed, and simply allowing himself to rot away with her because he didn’t believe there was anything else for him to do. That there wasn’t anything else he could do. 

Imagining him, Humanity’s Strongest, in a mind state like that, ESPECIALLY as a child just kills me. The situation and realizing how severely this must have affected him as an adult. I could go on and on about this, really because it is so incredibly soul crushing. So much of what this man has gone through has just been utterly horrible. But I think, out of everything, the earliest memories of his life... Watching his mom die and accepting death in turn because he believed that’s all he could do is the most saddening to me. To know the physical and emotional pain he’s experienced, and that Levi would have died thinking no one cared about him had it not been for Kenny reaching out his hand to him really fucks me up. Especially knowing the incredible man he grew to be.

                                          C O N C L U S I O N

The trauma Levi suffered as a child is nothing short of sickening, and this only covers what he experienced in terms of his mother. The list of horrors this man has had to endure throughout his life is simply heartbreaking, and all of it shows in his personality one way or another as an adult when you really sit back and think about it.

He’s able to sleep easily and comfortably in a chair due to spending months slowly dying on the floor.

He lacks trust because, for a majority of his youth, he only saw people who thought solely of themselves. 

He’s a verbal train wreck thanks to Kenny being his only outlet for learning how to properly communicate. 

He’s bad at conveying his emotions due to being ignored emotionally.

He’s awkward in affection because he’s never truly experienced it in terms of what he can remember.  

He’s compassionate because he knows from experience how shitty it is to be alone in your suffering.

He’s numb to death because he’s lived his entire life with it, but he understands and feels how devastating it is.  

He’s violent because that’s how he was taught to survive and move things to his favor. 

Every time I see Levi in the manga, I am just amazed by him to be honest.

He is the bastard child of a prostitute that was born in the rotting dump that is the darkened cesspool of the underground city. He is someone who, as a child, watched his mom sell her body, fall ill from doing so, and slowly die without being able to do anything about it. Then chose to slowly die with her because he felt like no one cared enough to help. 

He watched Kenny - the only person to reach a hand out to him and offer him means of survival and validation as a helpless kid - leave without saying a single word. 

He watched the only friends he’d ever made living in the underground, people he considered family, die right in front of him because he made the wrong choice. 

He has watched countless innocents and comrades die, all while fighting for freedom and a better world. 

He has basically watched everyone he has ever really cared for die without ever really being able to do much about it, aside from recent events. And even then, there is no doubt it has all affected him very deeply. 

The fact that this man has managed to carry himself as far as he has in life, while bearing the weight of being a hero on his shoulders along with the lives of those lost is nothing short of astounding. He has helped so many and has done so much self-sacrificing for the sake of others and a better future, and the universe has given him little in return for everything he’s endured. And even though he has suffered so much since the very beginnings of his life, and even though he started in literally the lowest possible place in society; he grew to be one of the strongest human-beings in existence physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

Kuchel would be so proud of her son if only she were still alive because regardless of everything, she brought him into the world out of love despite outside opinion, and now he’s one of the very few leading that world forward.  

I wish Kuchel could have lived long enough to see her son grow into the man he is now, but knowing the way of the butterfly effect; his life would probably be vastly different had things progressed down another path. As sad and as angry as his childhood makes me, I understand the affect it had in shaping his future. 

How bleak the world of snk would be if it weren’t for this incredibly strong and worthy man. I sincerely hope he experiences the true peace and happiness he deserves one day, and I hope he knows that his mother loved him dearly. 

[masksandtruths]

Never Normal: Part One

A/N: This was done for @revwinchester's Y1K Challenge, and in typical "me" fashion, I got a bit long winded. The prompt I chose is towards the end in bold font. This one isn't going to be a series, but there will be a part 2, which will explain a few things, including the story behind the reader's post-it note. Anyway, congrats Rev, and I hope y'all love it!

Summary: When the Winchesters found Y/N the moment after her world fell apart, she never expected they’d be the ones to help her put it back together--but that’s exactly what they did. From friends, to brothers, to the possibility of something more--their lives together were far from normal, which was exactly how she liked it. 

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (mentioned here, but the majority will be in Part 2 & 3); Sam Winchester; Reader's sibling

Warnings: Swearing, Semi-fluffy, Drinking, Violence, Sibling death, so of course, also a little Angst.

Word Count: 3400-ish

“Okay, I give up. Where the hell do you two turds keep the ketchup in this dimly lit den of testosterone?” you asked, slamming the pantry door closed and throwing your hands up in defeat.

Sam looked up from the pot of green beans he was preparing on the stove and smiled when he saw you standing there in a state of distress over their poorly stocked fridge and cabinets. “Unless Dean has some leftover ketchup packets from the last fast food joint he raided, I’d say you’re out of luck.”

“That’s about par. No coffee creamer either…or fluffy pillows…or chick flicks…definitely no feminine products…and if your hair wasn’t damn near as long as mine, I’d bet my big toe there’d be no conditioner in this joint either,” you joked, playfully tugging a piece of Sam’s long hair as you passed by him on your way to finish setting the table.

When you were done placing the last steaming bowl of food in the center of the table a few minutes later, you took a step back and admired your handiwork. Three real plates accompanied by actual silverware, cloth napkins, and crystal glasses sat on its wooden surface. The rest of the space was filled with heaping bowls of salad, green beans, mac and cheese, mashed potatoes and dinner rolls. It was enough to feed an army, and there was no way all of it was going to get eaten—even though you had a strong feeling Dean would give it his best shot—but it looked exactly like you hoped it would. Like the birthday dinners you used to share with your little sister.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you mentally braced yourself against the wave of crippling pain and overwhelming sense of loss that usually slammed into you seconds after recalling memories of your younger sibling—but it never came. Normally at this point, a sadness like none you’d ever known before would flood your soul, the weight of it knocking the air from your lungs and crushing the already broken heart beating in your chest—but not this time.  This time, the simple, happy memory of your little sister didn’t rip open the gaping wound inside of you—the one you’d been struggling to heal since the day you’d found her lifeless body in your kitchen—and leave you in a crying, crumpled mess on the floor. Instead, you felt what you assumed most people felt when they started to come back from that level of emotional trauma—something like a mixture of closure and relief and acceptance.

You allowed yourself to remember the first time you decided to have a fancy dinner in honor of her birthday. Five months prior to that day, you had held her hand in the cemetery as you both cried and said goodbye to your parents for the last time. Afterwards, you had told the few distant family members in attendance that you would become her legal guardian, and she’d be living with you from now on. Maybe it was because you were a full decade older than her, finished with college, and working a full-time job…or maybe it was the way you spoke so matter-of-factly—your words filled with love and determination, but everyone had accepted your declaration without argument or objection.

In the blink of an eye, you went from being a sibling to also being a parent, and you never—not even for one second—doubted or regretted that decision.  You found strength in each other as you both grieved and adjusted to your new version of normal—and before you knew it, nearly half a year had passed, and her thirteenth birthday was quickly approaching. You recalled thinking that no kid should have to become a teenager without her parents at her side, so you did what you do best and overcompensated, hoping it would bring her a little bit of happiness on a day that could easily take a turn into a more depressing territory. You talked to a couple of her friends and arranged for them all to go to the movies after volleyball practice that day, giving you a few hours to set everything up.

After you got off work, you rushed to the grocery store, gathering the ingredients to whip up all the foods she loved most in the world, and then spent the evening rushing around the kitchen like a madwoman. Just as you were setting the last piece of your mom and dad’s wedding china on the table, three very excited teenage girls burst through the front door squealing about the Harry Potter movie they had just watched.

“Oh my gosh, sis. You wouldn’t believe how good the last movie is. Seriously, people clapped. We totally have to go back so you can--.”

She stopped midsentence as she took in the scene before her, eyes lighting up when she noticed the bowls of food on the table and the presents purchased by you and her friends stacked all around her chair. “Surprise! Happy 13th birthday, kiddo!” you shouted happily, popping the cork on a bottle of sparkling white grape juice as you did so. She stood there in shock for a brief moment before jumping up and down and shooting straight towards you, nearly knocking you off your feet when she threw her arms around your neck and excitedly told you over and over how much she loved you. A few months later, she did the same thing for your birthday, and just like that, your special birthday dinner tradition was born.  

Five years later, the tradition still held, and you watched as she blew out eighteen candles on her cake and chattered happily about her upcoming move to Houston and her acceptance to Rice University’s premedical program. Never in a million years would you have imagined a vampire would rob you of the opportunity to watch her add another candle to her cake, but on one horrible night, in the middle of June, just five weeks shy of her 19th birthday, that’s exactly what happened.

When you found her that evening, the sane part of you knew immediately that she was gone—that the light of your life—your best friend—your baby sister would never open her eyes again. You’d never see her graduate…or become a doctor…or have a family of her own, but you just couldn’t wrap your mind around that right then. So instead, you dropped to your knees and pulled her into your lap, rocking her and stroking her hair like you did when she was a little girl and was sick or had a bad dream.  Out of habit, you rested your chin on top her head and quietly started singing the words of her favorite childhood song.

“Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember; And a song someone sings, once upon a December; Someone holds me safe and warm...”

At that point, your voice broke and you held onto her a little tighter, squeezing your eyes shut as you silently willed her chest to rise and your tears not to fall. But when her chest never rose, your tears decided they didn’t have to listen either.

When the monster found you sitting there a short while later and promised you the same fate, you looked him dead in the eyes and calmly told him to get on with it—that it was better than living in a world without her, anyway.  You kissed her forehead one last time and took a steadying breath, ready for him to put you out of your misery, but before he could follow through, the Winchesters came barreling into the room, machetes swinging. A normal person probably would have felt relief at narrowly avoiding a date with death, but when the monster’s severed head landed next to you that night, the only thing you felt was regret.

They disposed of his body and later helped you bury hers next to your parents. Some small part of your brain was vaguely aware of the concerned glances aimed in your direction, the hushed whispers shared between them, but you were just too drained and heartbroken to care. They must have sensed the depth of your despair—must have somehow known you couldn’t carry the weight of this agony alone—because when you climbed into the back seat of the Impala with blisters on your hands, your clothes covered in dirt from your sister’s freshly dug grave, they didn’t take you home. Dean just slid into the driver’s seat, stuck the key in the ignition, and drove you straight to their bunker. Later you realized that Sam had stayed behind to gather a few of your personal belongings and pack up some of your clothes so you never had to go back to your house if you didn’t want to—a small kindness for which you were eternally grateful. And so, the most horrible and excruciating healing process of your life began.

Over the next seven months, they taught you all about things most people only imagined in their worst nightmares. They taught you how to fight, how to shoot a gun, how to face those monsters when most folks would run screaming in the opposite direction. They checked on you when you cried out in your sleep. Held you as you kicked and screamed—angry at the universe for stealing away the most precious thing in your life. Carried you out of bars when nothing but drinking yourself into a blind stupor seemed to numb the pain of that loss. Laughed with you when the darkness that had smothered your sense of humor for so long started to fade away and you discovered you finally found things funny again. They helped you heal, and in the process, they became your family. A new one. A different one. But family nonetheless. That’s why, when you’d discovered Dean’s birthday was coming up, you’d suggested having a dinner to celebrate—something that seven months ago, you never would have dreamed you’d feel like doing again.

A smiled played across your lips, happy you were now at a point where you could look back on the memories you made with your sister with fondness instead of excruciating pain. Happy you could start to move forward with your life and begin creating new memories with the two men that helped bring light back into your world. You absentmindedly reached your hand into your pocket and touched the post it note you carried with you everywhere, rubbing your thumb across it affectionately.

“Soup’s on,” Dean announced as he stepped into the kitchen carrying a platter of steaks fresh off the grill in one hand and a beer in the other, effectively jolting you out of your walk down memory lane. “Where do you want me to set these babies, Y/N?”

You pointed towards the one empty place on the table, catching a whiff of their scent as Dean placed them in front of you in the spot you’d chosen. “Holy crap, those smell amazing.”

“You’re telling me. Try being the one cooking them. Took everything I had not to grab mine right off the pit and start going town on it.” He looked over at you as he straightened, a warm smile lighting up his face, causing the little crinkles you loved so much to form around his green eyes. He walked over to you and dropped a quick kiss on the top of your head, which made your stomach to do an embarrassing number somersaults. “Thanks for this, sweetheart. It’s already the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”

“Sure. No problem. It’s a family tradition,” you answered with a shrug, trying to play it somewhat cool. Shit, why couldn’t you just talk to him the same way you talked to Sam? “Oh, because you don’t want to get naked with Sam, that’s why,” you thought sarcastically, rolling your eyes at your own silliness before walking towards the liquor cabinet. You needed a damn drink. You unscrewed the top on the bottle of bourbon and poured yourself a glass, mixing it with a little coke to help soften the bite of the alcohol.

“Uh huh. You were complaining about living with us earlier, but it has its perks, doesn’t it? We may not have the condiments of your choice, but we’ve got an endless supply of liquor,” Sam teased, throwing a wink in your direction—and like the mature, almost thirty-year old you were, you responded by sticking your tongue out at him.

Dean nearly spit out his beer. “What the hell did you just say? What about condoms and liquor?” he sputtered, his green eyes widened in shock and quickly darting back and forth between you and his younger brother. 

Well that was odd. You had initially assumed the choking was due to him thinking Sammy was funny, but the rest of his reaction was just…off. Was that seriously a hint of jealousy you heard in Dean Winchester’s voice? No—couldn’t be—could it?

“Not condoms, you nimrod. Con-di-MENTS,” Sam replied, over exaggerating each syllable of the last word.

“Well excuse me for not speaking moose, asshole,” he bit back, the angry tone of his voice making Sam pull his head back in surprise. Your body, on the other hand, had an entirely different reaction. You knew you were probably reading too much into it, but just imagining there was the slightest chance Dean was acting all grumpy and possessive because he thought you and Sam had been sharing some quality alone time together had you a little…excited. Shit, was it warm in here?

“Dude, chill out. I know your hearing is failing in your old age, but it was just a joke…and no one said anything about condoms.”

For one tense moment, Dean didn’t respond. He just stared at Sam and slowly raised the bottle of beer back up to his lips. Then, just when you started to get really nervous, he let out a small chuckle.

“Geez, you two should see the looks on your faces. Classic.”

You released the breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding and shook your head. While you were legitimately relieved that WWE Smackdown: Winchester Edition wasn’t about to take place in the kitchen, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment that all of Dean’s huffiness had simply been another of his jokes. That’s what you got for letting your imagination run wild. 

“In all fairness, you have been known to get hangry a time or two, Dean. Thought maybe your growling stomach got the best of you again.” 

“Me? Hangry? Never.”

“You want to run that by me again?”

“I didn’t stutter, and your ears don’t flap, darlin’.”

“Whatever you say,” you snorted. “Since it’s your birthday, I’m not going to argue with you. Now can we please eat?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“You first, birthday boy. Dig in,” you order, swinging your hand forward to smack him on the ass.

“Alright, now,” he warned, quickly reaching behind him to capture your hand before you could pull away. You giggled. Yes, giggled—there was no other way to describe the sound that fell from your lips. Jesus H Christ, you had to pull yourself together.

 “I thought the birthday spanking was supposed to be served during dessert,” Dean joked, releasing your hand, affectionately bumping the underside of your chin with one finger, and flashing you a crooked smile. Lord have mercy—now he just wasn’t fighting fair. It felt as though every drop of blood in your body suddenly made a beeline for your face, overheating your cheeks and turning them as red as the ketchup you’d been searching for earlier.

“For an old man, your brain is still pretty imaginative,” you finally managed to quip back. “Now, get your mind out of the gutter and enjoy the food Sammy and I slaved over all afternoon.”

“Umm, if I remember correctly, I cooked the steaks—which is kind of the most important part of the meal.”

You cocked your hip out and crossed your arms, directing a pointed glance at the long row of bowls filled with sides lining the kitchen table. “Okay,” you sighed dramatically. “You are right. I guess I’ll go ahead and dump all these out…and get rid of the pecan pie that is baking to perfection in the oven as we speak.” You managed to take exactly one step towards the oven before Dean blocked your path. So predictable, you think, a smile lighting up your face as you look up at the older Winchester.

“You take one more step towards that pie, and I’ll throw you down and hog tie you, Y/N. I’m not even playing.”

“You sure know how to make a girl’s heart go pitter patter, Dean. But how about we save that little fantasy for dessert, too?”  Before you even realized what your body was doing, you took a step towards him then slowly reached up and gently tugged the middle of his shirt, batting your long eyelashes and rolling your bottom lip between your teeth as you did so.

You noticed how the playful look vanished from his green eyes, quickly replaced by something a little darker and a lot hotter. How his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and then stiffened his spine like he might be anticipating something. How his tongue flicked out and slowly ran across his full lips. For a split second, you were proud, and also more than a little shocked, that your flirtations seemed to have some sort of effect on him. But then you caught yourself and realized that was exactly how a normal girl would react, and you refused to fall into that normal girl category. Normal just wasn’t your thing, never really had been, but after…after everything, you developed this freakishly strong aversion to anything to falling within that realm. Your thoughts once again drifted to the note tucked safely away in your pocket.

So instead of following through or allowing yourself to imagine where things might go if you kept up your little performance, you simply grinned at him and spouted off the line he’d used on you a few moments ago, “You should see the look on your face. Classic.”

Your heart was still racing as you  walked straight for your mixed drink, picked it up and downed it in a few big gulps.

Dean’s eyes were still fixed on your back, watching as you poured yourself another one. The sound of Sam’s chair dragging across the floor as he settled into his spot at the dinner table finally broke him out of his little trance. He gave his head a quick shake and cleared his throat before stepping forward to take his seat as well. When you finished mixing your cocktail, you sat down too, and Dean immediately rubbed his hands together excitedly and dug in.

Appreciative groans echoed around the table as everyone took their first bites of the meal. “I swear I could die happy right now,” Dean mumbled through a mouth full of ribeye. “Thanks for springing for the good steaks, Y/N. Totally worth it.”

“Yep," you agreed, "the only thing that would make them better is ketchup.”

“That’s what you wanted to the ketchup for?” Sam asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “We always ate them with ketchup.” You glanced to your left and saw Dean had quit chewing and was now sitting dead still and staring at you like you had just sprouted a second head.

“Ketchup? On a steak? But why?”

“Because it’s good, you big cry baby. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Well for starters, it’s just downright un-American, that’s what. But second of all, I cook a damn good steak, and I know for a fact they don’t need any friggin’ ketchup to make them edible.”

“It’s not an insult to your cooking skills, Emeril. I just like what I like—and in this case, it’s ketchup…on my steak.”

“You’re not normal, you know that, right?”

A smile tugged at your lips as you leaned towards him, looking him straight in the eyes, and asked, “And when have I ever striven to be normal, Dean?”

He made a show of considering your question, pursing his lips, squinting one eye and looking up towards the ceiling, brow furrowed in concentration. “I’ve got nothing. Guess that means you are a freak.”

“Yep, just like the rest of my family,” you chuckled, leaning back and pointing at Sam and Dean. “But I've got to admit, if I have to eat ketchup-less steak, there’s no one alive I’d rather eat it with than you two idjits.”

Read Part 2 ->

Tags: @dancingalone21 @wheresthekillswitch @trexrambling @escabell @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @revwinchester @atc74 @goldenolaf25 @-lovepeacenhope- @messy-buns-and-shotguns @avc212 @shutupiminlooove @kathaswings @nostalgic-uncertainty @arryn-nyxx @deanssweetheart23 @sofreddie @michellethetvaddict @roxyspearing @akshi8278 @horsegirly99

[actualltr4sh]

alright its time for another of these

1. describe yourself. i’m 5′4. i’m goofy when i feel like it. i’m pretty sarcastic or condescending depending on the mood of the receiver. i’m smart, but not on paper. i’m creative. and i’m a hot young ebony. *finger guns* 

2. if you could go anywhere for a week all expenses paid where would it be? antigua & barbuda. it’s where my dad is from and i neeeeed to be an island girl for like two seconds pls.

3. do you have siblings? 4 sisters 1 brother.

4. what is your favorite constellation, why? do not have.

5. favorite color. black.

6. what kind of music do you listen to? i like R&B, early 2000′s or that shit that’s pretty mainstream but everybody swear is lowkey (SZA, Kelela, Daniel Caesar, whoever idk). i like pop punk or alternative a lot too. florence & the machine saved me. or modern baseball, the front bottoms. whatever.

7. favorite flower. (you can name as many as you want cause flowers are awesome) i like roses. i literally have one one my arm so.

8. if you could do magic, what is the first spell you would learn? probably an invisibility spell. it seems simple and like the first thing you should do lol.

9. favorite childhood memory. wow i’ve never thought about this. there was this one christmas where they let me open all my gifts at 12. i got my nintendo DS that year and i remember hearing ‘you are my rock’ by beyonce for the first time.

10. have you ever been cheated on? ish. it sucked. he broke my heart lol.

11. if you could describe your perfect room, what would it be? it’s currently my living room. it’s really cool. actually it’d be more perfect if there was more shit on the wall. but it’s a couch and a playstation and a big tv. it’s lit.

12. favorite animal. owls. ravens. crows. i’m terrified of birds though lmao.

13. what was the last photo you took of? a board in a classroom for this project.

14. do you believe in soul mates? absolutely. i’ve had the pleasure of meeting a few.

15. do you hang toilet paper over or under? i let that shit do what it do.

16. your go to place to eat & your favorite thing to get there. i love texas roadhouse but i try something new whenever i go. chilis i get cajun chicken pasta though. no tomatoes cus i’m not a crazy person.

17. do you believe everything happens for a reason? sometimes. i do think shit just be happening though.

18. guilty pressures? what?

19. favorite mythical creature, why? witches. although i want to believe they’re real. cus they be changing shit. and shit be needing change.

20. something most people don’t know about you. i can’t drive. i’m like a C+ driver lmfao. like we won’t DIE but i’m not who you suggest to do it.

21. where did you grow up, what was it like? detroit. straight as hell. coney slaps lmfao.

22. do you believe aliens exist? that would be narcissistic of me as a human to think that we are the ONLY species to exist.

23. what was your last google search? “how to poop better.” i bullshit you not LMFAOOOOO.

24. what did your last relationship teach you? BITCH. it taught me what i needed in a relationship. what i didn’t need. to put my healing first before anyone else. that love does not always conquer all. to never put a significant other before a friend. to give myself the same love & forgiveness i would forgive anyone else. bitch, i got nothing but lessons lmao.

25. would you relocate for love? i would do anything for love with my dumbass.

26. do you hold grudges or forgive easy? i forgive, not easy, but i forgive. i also don’t hold grudges, but i don’t forget.

27. favorite book. many. eleanor & park is a easy one to say though. i’d have to think forreal. 

28. do you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert? bitch i am introverted as hell. i go days without speaking to people lol.

29. have you ever kept a journal, do you now? i have kept a diary/journal religiously since i was 5.

30. top 5 favorite movies. paid in full, bring it on, halloween, stepbrothers, horrible bosses.

31. do you believe that everything happens for a reason?: didn’t i already answer this? sometimes, nigga.

32. what is your greatest fear? falling in the oven. or never being happy.

33. favorite alcoholic beverage. crown royal vanilla. or anything. i’m that friend lmao.

34. most embarrassing thing you’ve done. be born probably.

35. do you believe in ghosts? all of that.

36. what is the best and worst part of your personality? i make a joke out of everything. the good shit, the bad shit. i’m making fun of it.

37. should you split the dinner bill? if y’all struggling, sure. if you feel like it, sure. money doesn’t matter to me honestly idc lmfao.

38. are you a good liar? ish. i try not to tbh because i don’t really know if i can pull it off lol.

39. what keeps you up at night? i be knocked out forreal LMFAO but anxiety. if i’m not asleep i’m panicking. about.. anything.

40. would you rather go without your phone or music? i truly only use my phone for music. give me an ipod i swear i’d be good.

41. do you believe in god? i believe so. i think so. maybe. yes. i’m the worst christian LMFAO

42. how do you relax when frustrated? i don’t. i have anxiety. jk. ish. lmfaooo. i shower. i write. i watch tv. i sleep. i cook.

43. what’s something that offends you? hearing people talk about mental illnesses in a way that doesn’t accurately depict the experience.

44. favorite food nachOOOOOS

45. if you were on a 10 hour flight and could sit and talk to any person the entire time, who would it be? my ex :/ he was really my best friend LMAO

46. when do you feel the most confident? lowkey, when i’m naked. i got abs and my titties sit. lmfaoooo

47. what do you do on your free time? sleep or watch tv or write.

48. is there anyone who has completely lost your respect i be looking at people differently but i don’t think i don’t respect anyone.

49. have you ever broken someone’s heart? doubtful.

50. did/do you play sports in school? yeah lol i cheered and did gymnastics.

51. when are you happiest? writing or escaping with a tv show.

52. coffee or tea? CAFFEINE ME PLS!

53. what is one possession you own you wouldn’t want to live without? as of late, my camera. i love my baby.

54. what is the first thing you notice about a person? idk. haven’t met anybody new lately.

55. what is your favorite season, why? spring or fall. spring is rainy, fall is gloomy.

56. what makes you laugh? trauma.

57. are you a clean or messy person? messy normally, clean if i’m manic or suddenly tryna shape my shit up.

58. what is important for a successful relationship? COMMUNICATION.

59. what was your upcoming like? fine. rocky. confusing. okay i guess though.

60. favorite holiday? halloween :)

61. what is the first thing you’d do if you won the lottery? pay off my all my debt. student. medical bills. all of it. i don’t wanna owe shit.

62. what’s the best pizza topping combination? bacon and ham is all i get.

63. favorite outdoor activity. going back inside, the fuck lmfaoooo.

64. how are you? honestly. i’m drunk right now so.

65. would you rather go camping in the woods or stay at a beach resort? i hate outside in general. but beaches. less bugs.

66. what is the most beautiful thing in nature? the sun/moon.

67. favorite type of candy? sour patches watermelon or swedish fish or carmello chocolate bars.

68. if your life was a book, what would be the title? ‘pieces in print’

69. what movie quotes do you use of a regular bases? oh god, do i use any?the first thing i thought of was “cha feel? cha definitely feel.” from 21 jumpstreet and i rarely even say that lol.

70. what was cool when you were young but not cool now? webkinz.

71. what’s the craziest conversation you have ever eves dropped on? i don’t remember her words exactly but something about fucking a monkey my freshman year of highschool.

72. what’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched? they’re all pretty interesting. that abducted in plain sight shit was DUMB tho.

73. what’s the worst hairstyle you’ve had? bangs in the 7th grade like anybody lmao.

74. what do you like to cook? all of it. i love cooking!

75. what’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild? ...in the wild? i saw a rat in the street once.

76. what’s the funniest tv show you’ve ever seen?: bitch this is hard. schitts creek. arrested development. the office. misfits. idk tv is funny as hell.

77. do you usually follow your heart or your head? both. once someone told me i made calculated risks and i will never forget it. if i want to do something i WILL do it. but before i do it i think about the best, worst, and most realistic case scenario lmao.

78. what is your favorite quote? “if you are neutral in times of oppresion you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”

79. what’s the weirdest crush you have ever had? my after school teacher in 5th grade. he actually reminds me of jim halpert now that i think about it. makes sense.

80. what’s your love language? quality time and words of affirmation. so literally hang out with me and tell me you love me.

81. do you ever feel alone? yeah. this time last year was the worst of it. i don’t feel like that too much anymore though.

82. ever been bullied? yes nigga. shit sucks.

83. are you usually early or late? on time or late. i can’t be early for the life of me you asking for too much lmfao.

84. what kind of art do you enjoy most? writing. poetry. stories. you know.

85. what do you wish you knew more about? myself.

[skyteglad]

do all the flower asks too you little heathen

Alisons: Sexuality? pansexual!! i used to go with demirom pansexual but pan alone is good enough

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender? he/him, it/its is okay too! bigender but also i’m?? leaning towards just trans masc at this point?

Amaryllis: Birthday? dec 11!

Anemone: Favorite flower? oh fuck uhhhh chrysanthemum but only bc i love that word?? i like how flowers look a lot tho

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show? oh shit fuck uh. there’s a lot but soul eater, desperate housewives, and heroes are three i can think of rn

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger? i have no clue what this question means!!

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes? h

Aubrieta: Favorite drink? soda… root beer, sunkist, and (currently) dr. pepper?

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love? YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Baneberries: Favorite song? THERE’S… A LOT OF THEM, OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD THOUGH, FIRST TO COME TO THOUGHT? between the bars by chris garneau

Basket of Gold: Describe your family. they’re actually pretty good? like, really good. not perfect, though. i still haven’t come out to them, but they’re very good in comparison to many other parents

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it? imma go w my irl besties bryson and alyssa they’re fantastic, love them

Begonia: Favorite color? this is hard? i love colors??? fuck? i’ll just go with color combo instead here, which is a tie between red/black/white, and brown/teal/white

Bellflower: Favorite animal? I HAVE A LOT. CATS, DEER, AXOLOTLS??

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person? night

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be? cat cat cat cat cat

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? teacher, lawyer, forensic psychologist

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children? love them! they deserve kindness in the world and it makes me sad as hell knowing not all of them have that. no child is inherently evil, they’re still forming and changing and growing, and there’s still a chance to help them be a good person

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why? oh man, lots of things. i’ll go with… *spins the wheel* … abandonment! and yeah lol it’s bc losing people is scary and terrible

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood. not a fact abt my childhood but apparently i was born with an anxiety disorder lol

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?  question too deep, pass

Buttercup: Relationship Status? **MARRIED** i’m not married but i’m happily taken by two of the best people to ever exist ever???

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go? SEE MY BOY NORSKI

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved? when i’m around my bfs and they’re being cozy and gay and sweet

Canna: Do you have any tattoos? nope!

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  nope!

California Poppy: Height?  fuck you! i’m 4'11

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts? sure do babey!

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  pajama pants, socks that are too tight, a tank top, and my bfs heart player hoodie

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight? yes i still do lol

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?  cotton :D

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed? cotton!

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font? fuck uhhhhhh yes

Columbine: Are you tired? lol ya

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to? LOVE BOYS LOVE BOYS LOVE BOYS

Coneflower: Dream job? forensic psychologist :c

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert? introvert!

Crocus: Have you ever been in love? this was already asked but YES

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about? ALL THE WAY ALL THE WAY

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it? UHHH YYYESSS???? imma go w booger bear, a green bear… shade of boogers

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign? sagittarius!

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering? i… guess? maybe??? not really imo but idk!

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment? i have no braincells rn so pass

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?  cry (they do like them tho thank fuck)

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to? COTTON AND NORSKI

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at? d…raw…?

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at? everything lol

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month? CON! HALLOWEEN SPOOKY STUFF! POTENTIAL MOUSE BABIES which is also a bad thing that happened but shh

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today? it’s been ok

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life? well… not exactly? i’m thrilled to be where i am w my bfs, i’m thrilled that i’ve grown and gotten through some bad trauma, but i want to be doing more, i want to feel accomplished, so.. i’m not :c

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two? FUCKING MOVE.

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life? oh fuck numbers. 1-2) cotton and norski 3) lee!!! 4) my family 3) my friends 4) there’s more but i have no braincells so :p

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?  nothing

Hellebore: How do you show affection? many

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of? :D.. i don’t rememeber

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day. shrug

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?  drrrawww??? procrastinate lol

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them? i’ll go w alyssa! almost 16 years, it was in kindergarten! my aunt had lied abt mama bringing me lunch so i was left kind of just… without any and alyssa stayed behind while i ate when everyone went to recess :’) we also just shared a class but still

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything? cotton and norski

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have? bitch? how am i supposed to know?

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? hhhhhh

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself? suck

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself? i give a shit about others

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?  i give a shit about certain others :\

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child? draw

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid? alyssa

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for? SO MANY THINGS HHH JUST. BEING A THOUGHTLESS BITCH.

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about? retaliating against my abusers and saying harmful things to them while they were basically cornering me bc i had a breakdown and that was ‘rude’ somehow.

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name? bc im trash! and it means 'thunderous skies’ (i found out that skylar is a popular/overused trans guy name and now i’m sad at myself but also fuck u i love the name skylar it stays as my middle)

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it. texas lol i havent moved out of the city ive lived in my whole life

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up? its never been personalized… it’s… just a bed, a tv (not anymore but thats ok) and thats it. currently its two beds but, again, thats it

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  depression!

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom. shes great!! she sucks sometimes and doesn’t understand my boundaries at all (maybe she does and just purposefully ignores them), and she babies me to fucking hell, but she’s very very nice and tries her best and i appreciate her

Onions: Tell about your dad. we don’t mention him he’s a piece of shit :\ my step dad’s great tho lol

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents. ging and popo are treasures to this earth

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable? i don’t want to talk about that.

Peony: What was your first job? haven’t had it yet

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any? COTTON: MET HIM IN A HOMESTUCK KIN SERVER. NORSKI: COTTON’S OLD FRIEND, INTRODUCED US. the first thing i ever said to him was great…

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain? i don’t.

Pink: Where is home? where the heart is uwu

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change? terrible people from hurting millions of others.

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them. norski tbh? he’s so talented and brave and has done so much in life. he’s not perfect but he’s grown so much and tried so hard to do good and i’m so proud of him and admire him a lot

Primrose: Describe your ideal life. no mental illness, with financial stability, and also the world wouldn’t have fucking oppression and harm in it tbh.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child? THAT BUTTERFLIES WERE VENOMOUS AND IF IT TOUCHED U U’D DIE.

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life? norski and cotton… and also lee

Rose: What’s your favorite sound? my bfs’ voices

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory? most memories of good times we’ve had

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory? :) pass

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?  TO CUDDLE MY FUCKING HUSBANDS. also to go pee i’m gonna go pee intermission break here pee break done

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things? :D hard!

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without? norski or cotton hh

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night? uhhhh a good amount???

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning? staying in bed hurts my body

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job? that i wish i had one

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing? i have a rly hot hoodie now…

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.  EDGY BUT COLORFUL

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you? stuffed animals… esp pokemon ones (or video games)

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now? life :D!!!!

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called? I DON’T READ HHHHHHH

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year? living with cotton like… permanently (also spending time w norski irl!!!!!!!!! pls!)

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is? :)

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself. I DON’T HAVE A BRAIN RN