#one scene of interaction is not enough!!!!!!

[starcurtain]

A Closer Look at the Phaidei Memory

I've seen so many people talking about this scene with Phainon and Mydei and making fun of how blatantly obvious Phainon is about his... respect for Mydei's... conspicuous body, but one thing I feel like a lot of people missed (or at least I haven't seen anyone discussing) is that this memory seems to come from very early on in their acquaintance.

Looking at it closely, it's clear that the two aren't particularly familiar with each other yet in this memory sequence. For one, Phainon questions things that he should easily know if he was well-acquainted with Mydei already.

First, very comically: "Do you even bathe, bro?"

And second, Phainon questions why Mydei isn't immune to the black tide:

This suggests that, up to the point of this memory, Phainon had not been in enough battles with Mydei (or at least close enough to Mydei) to see him be affected by the black tide. Apparently, this memory-Phainon-and-Mydei don't have years of rushing into battle side-by-side to defend Okhema yet.

It's also hilariously clear that the Phainon in this memory has absolutely no idea how to talk to Mydei.

Breaking this scene down, it's literally Phainon just trying really hard to strike up conversation, doing his best to try to crack the tough exterior and get Mydei to actually interact with him. He jumps around through topics rapidly--the baths, the black tide, their personal sparring--looking for anything that will catch Mydei's attention.

Meanwhile, we can tell that Mydei is not particularly familiar or comfortable with Phainon yet because his dialogue is so different from any of his other scenes in the game. Although Mydei is obviously not the game's biggest yapper, he does always have full sentences to contribute to other conversations and banters readily with Phainon whenever he's baited into it.

In this memory, he instead starts off polite but also completely aloof:

This is the exact sort of response you'd have to a vague acquaintance coming up and trying to talk to you like you're best friends. Phainon skipped at least four steps of familiarity here, and Mydei is obviously at a loss for why the conversation is even happening.

He responds by blatantly stonewalling, answering Phainon's (slightly pathetic) attempts to start an actual conversation in nothing but single word answers:

You can even see Phainon recognize how bad he's failing half way through the conversation, which prompts him to vocally declare that he's going to make a complete topic switch:

And this time, it works!

When Phainon brings up their personal duel or spar, whichever it was, finally, finally Mydei caves and engages in the conversation with him:

Which prompts Phainon to laugh (in relief? lol) and flat out crow about how he's finally cracked the code and figured out how to get Mydei to notice him:

Poor Mydei, however, did not seem to realize his slight display of interest was going to lead him into a full conversation, and he responds to Phainon's blatant invitation to keep talking with a confused:

Witness Mydei accidentally turning down Phainon's request for a date in real time.

The only thing that complicates the situation is what Phainon says late in the memory: that they've battled "all this time." However, looking at his earlier comments, this last statement may just be in a general sense, as in "two Chrysos Heirs who have been fighting the titans for years," especially as the rest of the line "How do you train? Would you consider teaching me?" once again indicates a lack of close familiarity.

(It's also possible this line is just poorly translated in English, and was actually meant to refer to their legendary ten-day-long duel: "We battled all that time, yet I never saw you fatigued." Given the rest of the lines in the memory, I think "dodgy translation" honestly makes the most sense here, and would also just have really funny implications: Phainon and Mydei didn't fall in love at first sight; they fell in comically-long-duel at first sight. Okay, maybe for Phainon it was both.)

Phainon's earlier statements in the memory make it clear that he isn't very experienced with fighting Mydei specifically, with the overall implication of the dialogue being that they've just had their first duel against each other recently:

So anyway, where I am going with all this?

I know a lot of people got distracted by Phainon's (accidental?) pass at Mydei in the first line, but I think taking a step back and looking at the scene as a whole, in context, makes it even more hilarious and off-the-cuff:

Phainon and Mydei aren't well-acquainted in this scene.

Phainon literally walked up on a guy he barely knows and the first words that fell out of his mouth were "Dan Nicky your bobbies." "I would know that body anywhere."

Even Mydei was weirded out at first!

Like, Phainon has absolute foot-in-mouth syndrome around his new "friend." He spends the whole conversation narrating his own attempts to communicate ("Ah, I see I am unwanted. Instead of leaving, I shall try another tactic. Is it working yet?" and "Yes, yes, yes, it worked!") like this is a remotely normal thing to do around a person you're not even close with yet.

You can see his puppy tail wagging. He wants to be friends with Mydei so bad.

He is actively making up excuses to try to get Mydei to spend time with him here--first the comment about "Yay, you're here!" at the baths like he expects them to bathe together, then the whole "Why don't we go somewhere and have a long conversation about the insights we gained from rolling around in the dirt together?" to finally just flat out asking Mydei to train with him.

It's so charmingly earnest, straightforward, and even a bit awkward that I think this scene is really under-rated by the fans. It's not just another example of Phainon commenting on Mydei's muscles--it's a glimpse into what they were like before they were close and just how much Phainon wanted to connect to Mydei, how willing he was to explore to discover exactly what Mydei would be interested in so that he could seize that common ground between them.

Really a masterclass in showing us fans characterization right on the cusp of changing, and for showcasing both Phainon's charming audacity and Mydei's surprisingly-reserved-around-strangers behavior.

And, since we know the future that memory-Phainon-and-Mydei are headed toward... we also know it worked! Mydei is smiling by the end of the conversation! He and Phainon are going to become vitriolic best buds--er, rivals--and Phainon is going to get all the spars he wants.

Persistence pays off!

[chkinpotpie]

I feel things in a big way and have for as long as I can remember.

One of my earliest memories is seeing the world behind the protection of my mom's long and sturdy legs. She was larger than life and shielded me from the loud world coming at me. She was a fireball. She walked into a room and owned it. She could talk to anyone as if she had known them their whole life. I remember watching from behind her legs -seeing her interact with people and being in awe of her ability to connect with people from all walks of life. She was magnetic. People who got pulled into her field were changed forever. She saw no color, no dollar signs, no religion, no gender, no sexual preference, no judgment. She was pure goodness. I cannot say enough good things about her. She chose me, and I am so lucky she did.

About six months before she passed away, we rented a cabin at Rough River. Just the two of us. A "girl's weekend." We packed a cooler with filets and lobster tails. We brought a couple of bottles of wine, a deck of cards, and our swimsuits. We planned on indulging in all the good stuff—food, alcohol, gambling, and gossiping. On our way to our cabin, we stopped to get a few last-minute supplies at the local gas station in the middle of nowhere, Kentucky. My mom was pumping the gas as I returned with the provisions. A man a few pumps over said, "Elaine?!" That was my mom's name. We both turned, and she said, "Earl?!" running to the man as if he was her long-lost cousin. I stood, stuffing Hot Tamales in my mouth, watching the scene unfold.

My mom knew Earl from our local Bingo hall, where she volunteered once a week for the temple fundraiser. After working all day, she would walk back and forth for four hours at Bingo, selling pull tabs. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her. She didn't just know people, though—she KNEW them. The names of their kids, where they grew up, what TV show they were currently into, what beauty salon they went to, etc. So while I was surprised she knew some random guy named Earl out in the middle of BFE, Kentucky, hours from home and on our first visit to this area, I was not really shocked.

I needed someone so fierce to protect me from the world. It was too loud and scary when I was a child. She gave me the time I needed to understand it all, or at least think I did. She gave me the time I needed to build up my own protection. She certainly continues to provide me strength to this day. I know she is watching over me, and I draw on her strength more and more as we enter these challenging times.

I do not feel as deeply as I used to, but I still feel very deeply. I feel other people's energy, as if their souls are speaking to me in a language that has no words—just vibrations and feelings. Lately, I have felt a heaviness like I have never experienced. So many people are feeling scared, uncertain, angry, and confused. I feel it on my chest, like someone's foot is there, pushing their heel into my rib cage. It's tough to not feel this way when every time you turn on the news or check social media, there is an astonishing development that feels otherworldly. Like, seriously, how did we get here? I suspect we have always been on this path—greed, the quest for power, lust for control. I think we have been here for a long time, but as time goes on, the path is no longer a dirt road. It is a moving sidewalk with LED displays and state-of-the-art sound systems. It is information flooding our brains at ridiculous rates every day. It is accelerating in its growth. It is gaining power and momentum.

Fear is what it eats for dinner. Hate is a piece of warm apple pie for dessert. Division is a cup of espresso in the morning. Lack of compassion is a piece of wood-oven-baked pizza, and lack of empathy is a cold beer on the side. Making sure we do not remember our worth is guacamole, and arguing with random strangers on the internet is the chips and salsa. Forgetting that most of us want the same things is a pickle on the side of a corned beef sandwich.

Do not feed the fear. Our energy, our emotions, our thoughts are what create our world. Our inner voice narrates our life and shapes our reality. Realize you have a choice in who and what you let in. If you let someone or something in and it makes you feel scared and hopeless, and you don't want to feel those emotions, then do not let them in. Your energy is your own. It is precious. You are precious. Remember your worth. Remember a time when you knew how special you were. There was no question. Do things that remind you how incredible you are. Lean into your self-care, into moments that light your soul on fire.

Do not fall into the biggest trap fear has set for us all. Just because we are on the "good" side does not mean we should speak poorly about the "bad" side. We certainly CAN speak poorly about the "bad" side. It is hard not to in these crazy times we are living in. We are charged with emotion, and it needs to be released somewhere. Bad-mouthing the bad, however, only makes the bad grow. It feeds off the negative energy, even if the negative energy is being expressed for good reason. Do not feed the fear.

Instead, I invite you to join me and draw on my Mom's strength. You can hide behind her legs, build up your protective shield and strength until you are ready. Then you can lean into the feeling my mom and I had on our girl's weekend. Not a care in the world, as we sipped our Cabernet and dined on our grilled surf-n-turf. The next day, we floated in the lake for hours, playing "I Never" and talking about everything under the sun. That night, we went to the local church Bingo. Earl had told my mom about it and said he might be there. We pulled up to the quintessential little white country church. There were about 12 cars in the parking lot. We walked in, and the music stopped, and everyone looked up at us. Everyone, being about 25 people, including the caller. We got our cards and started playing, giggling to each other about the wild situations we get ourselves into. The top prize of the night was a $250 jackpot, the last game, and a coverall. Well, we won the damn jackpot. The locals, who had probably been attending this Bingo game for 50 years, were not happy. We quickly got paid and left a trail of dust as we screeched away and headed back to our cabin, counting our cash and dancing and just loving each other.

#Love is always the answer

#itsgoingtobeokay

#createyourreality

[varda-star-queen]

Thank you @itwillbeourswansong - I cordially accept your invitation! When do I ever not need an excuse to wail about Adar? (Also, I very much enjoyed reading your thoughts! Nicely put as ever.)

I'll go straight to the questions for my wail-therapy session

-Your most wail-worthy Adar moment of TROP Season 1 or 2

He died! 😭 I don't think I'll ever get over it - not after all the build up and the amazing redemption arc he had. I hear what everyone says about it mirroring what he did to Sauron, but so what? It wasn't a befitting end for such a great OC.

However - TBH I think EVERY scene that Adar features in is wail-worthy (in S2 - and I'll explain that in question 3, but it's no slight on S1 Adar). The scenes where he speaks elvish and black speech... OMG 🔥. His chemistry and interactions with other characters. His tenderness coupled with ferocity on the battlefield! All of it.

I can't watch his scenes without wailing (for happy or sad reasons!)

-The detail/headcanon about Adar that keeps you up wailing at night

Very much like @itwillbeourswansong - It's Adar's huge capacity for love that gets me. We only see his physical scars, but his emotional and psychological ones are likely much worse. Yet, through all that he retains enough heart and soul to dedicate his entire existence to loving the unlovable. At no point do you feel that he would walk away or stop caring. He's capable of malice, of course, and, in many ways, he's ruthless, but always with the underlying motive of providing for his children.

He knows he's broken - when he says to Glug 'with all that is left of my heart', it feels to me like an acknowledgement. And I think when he puts on Nenya and feels whole-hearted again, it intensifies his capacity for love even more. So much so that he proposes peace - a safe place for every being in middle earth.

His patience is also noteworthy - I mean, he's lived thousands of years with an uncivilised bunch of violent kids! But he's always so calm and patient. And he's smart - one minute he's negotiating with a troll, then he's quoting poetry and calling people beautiful, then he's leading his armies into battle - It's high-level competency porn!

-At what point did you realize that you had become a hopeless Baddydaddy Devotee and lost control of your entire life?

Ok, so I am a very late latecomer!!

In season 1, I was intrigued by Adar, but more in conjunction with the 'who is Sauron' mystery. I do remember thinking his haunted look was heartbreaking and wondering what his backstory was.

When season 2 started and I saw Sam as Adar, I instantly clicked with his voice - that was the first thing I noticed and I even remember saying to my husband that I liked the sound of him. BUT even then, I wasn't fully awakened. After the 'Elen Sila Lumenn' moment, I sat up a bit more and was like, ok... what's happening here? Then next episode, when Galadriel got him by the neck, I started thinking, hang on, why am I craving more scenes with him... Which I was rewarded with in Ep 7. And that one was the clincher. After his scenes in that, I was convert and I started rotting my brain on everything I could get hold of in relation to Adar (just in time for him to die next episode 😭😭😭NOOOOOOOOOO).

I've now rewatched every S2 scene so many times and am completely and hopelessly devoted to our BaddyDaddy.... I need to do a complete season 1 rewatch with all this in mind, because I feel I don't remember enough of the details.

It's on my to-do list!

🖤🖤🖤

Season 2 episodes 6&7 were also when i jumped off the Haladriel ship and boarded Adariel (where I've been firmly ever since!). But I also love how Adar gets shipped with EVERYONE. Because it affirms my own thoughts about how attractive a person is when they have a noble heart, even if it's corrupted. (...And of course he's a hot bastard which helps too!!)

No pressure tags @tumblin-theworldaway @iwanderbecauseimlost @laurarcrazystrange @wowstrawberrycow @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @adarswidow

anybody in the mood to wail about Adar??

BECAUSE I AM

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Exploring all of the main Yellowjackets ships (and what makes each of them so compelling)

In honor of everyone fighting about which ship is the best in this fandom, I wanted to do a rundown of each of the main Yellowjackets ships and why they are all so interesting and believable in their own ways. I am only going over the most popular ships in the fandom (romantic pairings with more than 100 written works on ao3), so sorry if some of your favorite rarepairs are missing! And if you’re looking for a post all about how these relationships are so cute and healthy, this isn’t it (except for maybe Taivan). I’m mostly going to talk about how toxic, tragic, and tumultuous they all are, because that’s what we’re actually here for.

Jackieshauna

Jackieshauna is all about possession (in the best, most homoerotically intense way). Their dynamic is fraught with contradictory feelings that somehow exist alongside each other. Shauna idolizes Jackie’s magnetic influence, but she is also deeply resentful of her. Shauna adores Jackie, but she’s also suffocated by her. She feels like can’t live without Jackie, but she also can’t stand living in her shadow anymore. Jackie cares deeply for Shauna, but she also needs to own her; she needs to be validated by her position of power over Shauna.

The queer subtext in their relationship is so strong that it almost doesn’t feel like subtext at all. From the longing stares and the constant, almost hypnotic closeness to the way they interact with each other, the line between platonic love and romantic obsession blurs to the point of becoming indistinguishable. Their entire dynamic reads like a suppressed, unspoken desire, with both women using Jeff (and Travis eventually) as a way of redirecting their intense feelings towards each other. Shauna’s betrayal with Jeff doesn’t just feel like a “best friend stole my boyfriend” situation—it feels like she wanted to be Jackie, to consume her, to get as close to her as possible. And Jackie’s reaction isn’t just about the betrayal; it’s about the fact that Shauna was hers, and suddenly, she’s not. Jackie is so devastated by the knowledge of Shauna sleeping with Jeff that she no longer believes in love and loses her will to live entirely.

Shauna’s grief over Jackie isn’t just guilt; it’s, once again, possession. She talks to Jackie’s frozen corpse, hallucinates their conversations, braids her hair, does her makeup, eats her ear. It’s as if, in death, Jackie becomes more hers than she ever was in life. I just can’t get enough of the line, “I don’t know where you end and I begin.” Shauna eating Jackie is the ultimate culmination of this. It’s an act of worship—taking Jackie into herself, keeping her close in the most visceral way possible. But it’s also an act of domination—Shauna, who spent so long being beneath Jackie, is now consuming her, overpowering her in a way she never could while Jackie was alive.

There are so many layers to Jackieshauna; it’s love, admiration, obsession, ownership, codependency, resentment, and jealousy all wrapped up into one severely intense relationship. Their story is so tragic because it’s full of unspoken things—words that were never said, feelings that were never acknowledged, and a love that was never fully realized until it was too late.

One word to describe them: Possession

Their best scene: Their last fight

"Did I force you to live in my shadow, Shauna? It must be hard being this jealous all the time. You're so fucking jealous of me you can barely breathe."

“Are you quoting Beaches at me right now?”

“No…”

"I'm not jealous of you, Jackie. I feel sorry for you. Because you're weak. And I think that deep down, you know it. I’m sure everyone at home is so fucking sad to be losing their perfect little princess, but they’ll never know how tragic and boring and insecure you really are, or how high school was the best your life was ever gonna get.”

Taivan

Taivan is a peak golden retriever/black cat ship. Van is the golden retriever: loyal, endlessly optimistic (even in the face of getting nearly fatally attacked by wolves), and always trying to bring humor and lightness to situations, even when things are at their worst. She’s playful, affectionate, and follows Taissa around with unwavering devotion, even when Taissa is pushing her away or making choices that Van doesn’t agree with. This loyalty extends to Taissa’s sleepwalking, as Van’s support of her never falters even when faced with a darker, more dangerous side of Tai.

Taissa, on the other hand, is the ultimate black cat: fiercely independent, emotionally guarded, and always trying to maintain control, even when she’s clearly struggling. She’s skeptical, calculated, and reluctant to accept things that don’t fit her worldview. This initially translates into her relationship with Van, as she doesn’t want to be vulnerable, but you can tell she feels such a deep love for Van that keeps drawing her back in; unable to hide this softer side of herself. Van softens Taissa in the best way, cracking open that hard shell and allowing Taissa’s vulnerability and warmth to reveal itself. The most telling moment of this is Taissa’s willingness to enter Lottie’s spiritual circle to support Van. For someone as practical, skeptical, and grounded as Taissa, this is a significant sacrifice of her usual hard-edged pragmatism. But her desire to be there for Van, to show up in a way that is vulnerable and supportive, speaks volumes about the way Van has brought out a warmth in her that no one else ever could. Taissa’s love for Van is not just a passive emotion—it’s an active, deliberate decision to let go of control. The fact that she does this for Van is a testament to just how deeply she cares. And the Doomcoming “I want to see you” scene? That girl loves Van with her entire being.

In the adult timeline, Tai and Van cope with what happened in the wilderness in opposite ways. Taissa obsessively looks to the future and refuses to look back, while Van remains stuck in the past, refusing to move on. When they reunite in Season 2, they’re able to meet somewhere in the middle; a collision of the past and present.

It is clear that these two will do anything for each other, whether it’s fighting off a pack of wolves, tying themselves to each other at night, or going on life-threatening expeditions just to support each other. They are devoted to each other in any form. I can't wait to see them fuck on a table in the adult timeline in S3.

One word to describe them: Devotion

Their best scene: I ❤️ you (in blood)

“This is how you’re choosing to say ‘I love you’ for the first time?”

“You’re kind of leaving me hanging here, lady…”

“I love you, too.”

Lottienat

Lottie and Nat are classic narrative foils. They contrast so sharply with one another, yet in those very contrasts lie hidden similarities that shape their dynamic. Natalie was raised in a trailer park while Lottie was raised in a mansion, but they both grew up lonely and neglected by the people who are supposed to love them. Both of them feel alone and unloved, but where Natalie learns to toughen up and rely solely on herself, Lottie begins to seek connection in something bigger than herself—spirituality and the Wilderness. Natalie is the pragmatist/skeptic while Lottie is the spiritual prophet, but they both want what's best for the group. Lottie and Nat are arguably the two most compassionate, empathetic survivors, but they wield this empathy in different ways (i.e. Lottie offering Travis hope that his brother is alive, Natalie offering support through the grieving process as she guides him towards accepting his brother is dead). Together, they are two halves of a whole, each offering something the other cannot.

Lottie is both Nat's salvation and her undoing. Lottie offers Natalie the hope, purpose, and sense of belonging that she so desperately craves in her lowest moments, but in doing so, she inadvertently sets in motion a chain of events that ultimately leads to Natalie’s emotional and physical destruction. When Natalie is more alone and outcasted than she has ever been in the wilderness after the card draw, Lottie grants her the title of the group’s new leader. With this new title, Nat finally receives the love and appreciation she has always needed, but she also receives the burden of being in charge of (and therefore responsible for the actions of) a group rapidly descending into darkness, only intensifying the guilt and trauma she lives with for the rest of her life. When Natalie is on the verge of suicide, Lottie rescues her and takes her to her wellness community, which leads to Nat discovering self-forgiveness but also places her on the path towards her untimely death.

Their dynamic is defined by Lottie reaching out, trying to hold Natalie, to nurture and protect her, while Natalie fights and resists. The hypnosis/sharing shack scene is so important. It's Nat finally surrendering to Lottie (and all that Lottie represents). It's Nat allowing herself to be held (thinking of the way she lays her head in Lottie's lap, and the way she and Lottie are embracing each other as they dance around the fire), to be vulnerable and receive the love and care she never thought she deserved. It's so tragic that Lottie begins to spiral again just as Nat is beginning to trust her.

There are so many great Lottienat moments: the hint of pre-crash banter in "You don't talk shit unless someone really deserves it", Natalie comforting Lottie in the middle of the night when they sleep in the cabin for the first time, "Did you read that on a fucking fortune cookie?", Lottie always offering Nat her blood, Lottie's "I just want you to be safe", the iconic bathtub truce scene, the coronation scene with Lottie kissing Nat's hand and Nat looking up at her with awe and tears in her eyes, Lottie keeping tabs on Nat over the years to make sure she's okay, kidnapping her before she could kill herself, Natalie regressing to her teen self in the sharing shack as she rests her head on Lottie's lap, Natalie's "I think it's time for you to stop resisting", and Lottie and Nat dancing together around the fire.

One word to describe them: Tension

Their best scene: The bathtub scene

"Good game, you fucking loser."

"You talking shit? You little bitch, you ended up with nil, the same as me. But fine, good game."

Lottielee

So much of Lottie’s life leading up to the plane crash was about shame and self-confinement. Her father made her afraid of her own mind, and she spent much of her youth suppressing herself through medications and a socially acceptable mask. Laura Lee is the first person to accept Lottie as she truly is. She’s the first person to offer Lottie an alternative to her father’s control. Where Lottie has only known repression and self-doubt, Laura Lee provides a safe space where Lottie is believed. Not only does Laura Lee offer Lottie validation—she offers her a sanctuary for expression. She’s not afraid of Lottie’s abilities or her spirituality; she sees it as a part of who Lottie is, something to be embraced rather than suppressed. Lottie’s relationship with Laura Lee is foundational to her entire character; her psyche, her self-identity, her motivations going forward, and her path in life. Laura Lee helps Lottie develop an assertiveness and confidence she had not been able to access before, which in turn allows her to ascend to the extremely influential figure she ends up becoming.

I think so much can be said about the importance of touch in their relationship. Holding each other’s hands to guide each other, embracing each other, placing a hand on the other’s chest and holding it there. Laura Lee provides a gentleness/tenderness in her touch that Lottie has been craving her whole life. The act of placing a hand on the chest is particularly significant. When Laura Lee touches Lottie in this way, it is a moment of emotional anchoring. The chest is where the heart is, where one’s truest self can be felt and expressed. To have someone touch you there with reverence is a profound act of acceptance and recognition. And this is something that stays with Lottie, becoming an integral part of her spiritual practices. When Lottie offers this kind of touch to others, she’s not just comforting them; she’s offering the same acceptance and safety that she first received from Laura Lee. It’s a form of healing, of passing on the love and belief that Laura Lee gave her, a way for Lottie to channel her strength into others and to demonstrate the kind of acceptance she once craved.

Lottielee is about nurturance and sustenance. I love the absolute awe on their faces when they look at each other. In a way, they have faith in and worship each other.

Laura Lee’s death is extremely impactful and devastating to Lottie, so much so that she still sees Laura Lee’s ghost even 25 years later. Echoes of Laura Lee exist in everything Lottie does.

One word to describe them: Acceptance

Their best scene: The lake baptism

"I saw fire— a light."

"That's the holy spirit, you've been touched."

Mistynat

This ship has got to be the most hilarious out of any on the show. On paper, it makes absolutely no sense. Natalie is dark, brooding, cynical, and emotionally guarded to the point of being downright cold in the adult timeline. She has carefully curated an emotional armor; an air of detachment and apathy that she uses to maintain distance from anyone that could possibly become close to her. In contrast, Misty is a perpetual ray of sunshine—a walking bundle of overzealous energy and bubbly optimism wrapped in frilly, vintage-inspired cat sweaters. She's needy, socially unaware, and often acts out of a desperate desire for affection and validation. Their personalities, seemingly at odds, create a rich, almost absurd juxtaposition that makes their interactions fascinating to watch.

At the heart of their relationship is a shared sense of longing. Both Natalie and Misty crave connection and appreciation, but they have no idea how to foster it in healthy, meaningful ways. Both of them have been deeply isolated throughout their lives, though for different reasons. Natalie’s isolation stems from her trauma. She doesn't feel worthy of love and she's afraid of hurting people, so she keeps everyone at arm’s length, often sabotaging any potential for intimacy. Misty, on the other hand, is isolated by her intense neediness and socially awkward tendencies. She becomes overbearing and obsessive, constantly seeking affection in ways that alienate others. This creates such an interesting dynamic when the two are together, as Misty is obsessively pouring all of her loyalty and energy into Nat, while Nat is constantly pushing her away and struggling to maintain a safe distance between them.

While Mistynat is definitely stronger on Misty's end than Nat's, I think you can see the soft spot Nat has for Misty. Nat is begrudgingly charmed by her. Christina Ricci has said that she thinks Natalie was the only one to show any kindness towards Misty growing up, and I couldn't agree more. There are moments when Natalie shows a surprising level of affection and understanding toward Misty, even if it's fleeting or passive. Nat protects Misty from Shauna after Shauna punches her ("It's not her fault! Misty did everything she could!"), she appears genuinely happy to see Misty at the reunion, and the line "We're all like this, aren't we?" is Nat realizing how alike she and Misty are; how they share the same trauma.

It is so heartbreaking that Misty, who saw herself as Nat's greatest protector and most loyal follower, was ultimately the one to kill her. And it will also be so heartbreaking to see Misty's obsession with Nat extend to her wearing Nat's clothing and taking on her persona in Season 3 as a way of remaining close to her. Here's to seeing more of them in the teen timeline this season!

One word to describe them: Unpredictable

Their best scene: Misty snorting Nat’s coke

"Misty! Get off my coke! Oh my god you're possessed!"

Lottieshauna

Lottie is the only one to truly understand and embrace Shauna (even the darkest, most suppressed parts of herself). While she has other close relationships on the show, they all accept only a portion of Shauna (the portion they’re comfortable with, the portion that doesn’t feel dangerous, the portion that Shauna displays to others because she knows it won’t scare them away). Jeff, Jackie, and even Taissa can’t fully comprehend the depth of Shauna’s rage, the thrill she gets from danger, her desperate need to be seen, or the fact that she wants an outlet for the violent impulses she keeps buried. But with Lottie, Shauna can be her full, unfiltered self.

Lottie doesn’t just accept Shauna’s darkness—she encourages it. She doesn’t flinch from the things that would make others recoil. When Shauna is discovered to be talking to Jackie’s corpse in the meat shed, Lottie is the only one to extend empathy and understanding to Shauna. She covers up the piece cut out of Jackie’s arm and gives Shauna Jackie’s necklace because she knows that it’s what Shauna needs. After the death of Shauna’s baby, Lottie risks her life to allow Shauna to take her rage (and her intense grief) out on her. In the adult timeline, Lottie’s goat trust exercise (not sure what else to call it lol) is what makes Shauna realize how she has been keeping the people she loves at arm’s length; and it is what lays the groundwork for true healing. Lottie always understands what Shauna needs.

Shauna initially resists Lottie’s influence, but as the story progresses, you can see her slowly being drawn in to her web. I think there’s something thrilling for Shauna to be seen and accepted for her true self (instead of all of the masks she puts on to be what others want her to be). Their connection is one of shared experience, unspoken understanding, and the potential for something both destructive and healing.

One word to describe them: Cathartic

Their best scene: The beatdown

"Shauna, I know there's a lot of pain right now, but let it out. Shauna, we need you, let it out."

Travnat

There’s only room for one heterosexual ship on this list, and that is undoubtedly going to be Natalie and Travis. Travnat is tragic, toxic, and narratively doomed in all of the best ways. Travis and Natalie are two people who cannot help but destroy themselves and each other. Nat and Travis are birds of a feather, which means they have a deep understanding of each other (an understanding they have never received from anyone else), but it also means they have a mutual capacity for self-destruction.

When Travis lashes out after his father’s death, Natalie sees herself. She recognizes that rage, that despair. It’s something that no one else in the group can fully understand or sympathize with, because they haven’t been through the same kind of loss and alienation. But Natalie does understand, and she is the only one who offers him any kind of empathy or care initially. Even when Travis resists, when he pushes her away, she remains steadfast, because, deep down, she knows exactly what it feels like to be abandoned in your pain, to have no one who understands the depth of your grief. It’s this shared history of suffering that makes their connection so strong, yet so toxic. It’s not just about comfort—it’s about two people who have never been allowed to heal properly, and who are only capable of hurting each other as a result. They have the same coping methods: numbing and distraction (whether that be through drugs, sex, or reckless behavior), which causes them to spiral and relapse into their old habits whenever they reconnect.

Natalie describes Travis as "my best friend, the only person I ever loved, the only person who ever really knew me." There is no denying that these two have a deep love for each other. In their light, playful moments in Season 1, you can see what might have been if they had connected before the plane crash. But now they have gone through so much of the same trauma that there is no way for them to be around each other without reminding each other of their shared pain. Nat is a constant reminder to Travis of the loss of his little brother, and Travis is a constant reminder to Nat of the intense guilt of what she did to survive out there. Despite this, they attempt to take care of each other over the course of 25 years. There’s a tragic dance between them: they push each other away, only to pull each other back in, over and over again. The more they try to heal each other, the more they wound one another, and this constant tug-of-war between love and destruction is what makes their relationship so compelling.

One word to describe them: Trauma-bond

Their best scene: Post-Doomcoming hug

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to. I fucking love you, Natalie."

Jackienat

On an outward, surface level, Natalie and Jackie are polar opposites. Jackie is the classic queen bee—privileged, popular, and used to being admired. Natalie, on the other hand, is the rebellious outcast, rough around the edges and unwilling to conform. The ‘queen bee’ and the ‘burnout’. The ‘prude’ and the ‘slut’. Jackie cares too much, Natalie doesn’t care enough. But, in actuality, these are the cliche labels that have been placed on them/assigned to them by external sources. These are the false fronts they put on to hide the vulnerability underneath. Nat and Jackie are actually much more similar than either of them would probably care to admit.

At the core of their conflicts is jealousy. Jackie envies Natalie's ability to be carefree and unapologetically herself (you can hear genuine admiration in her compliment to Nat, “I love that you don’t care what anyone else thinks. You are so completely yourself). Jackie, for all her outward confidence, is constantly performing the version of herself that others expect, and she longs for the kind of authenticity that Natalie seems to embody. On the other hand, Natalie is jealous of the life Jackie represents—privilege, stability, being adored without having to fight for it. But they’re both deeply insecure in ways that mirror each other. Jackie isn’t as effortlessly perfect as everyone believes, and Natalie isn’t as indifferent as she pretends to be. They are both trapped by expectations, and neither of them truly feels like they belong.

If circumstances had been different, I think they would have actually been very close. Their humor is actually similar—sharp, a little sarcastic, but often disarming. They’re both sarcastic, raspy-voiced little shits and I would have loved to see them play off of each other a little more. My personal headcanon for these two is that they actually used to be very close friends when they were little but grew apart in middle school/high school due to societal expectations. Maybe Jackie used to be more carefree before she learned she had to be perfect, and maybe Natalie used to be softer before she learned no one would protect her. There was no huge falling out, they were just gradually pulled apart over time, placed into their respective roles, and now there’s a part of both of them that quietly misses the other but also feels like the version of themselves that once connected with each other is gone. They just don’t understand each other anymore.

And Nat being the one to lay Jackie’s bones to rest? Rejecting Travis’ offer to come with her so that she could have a moment alone with Jackie to pay her respects, release her jealousy, and apologize? Nat being the one to take Jackie’s position of leadership in the group (the queen bee) after she’s gone? Tragic.

They are the perfect enemies to lovers trope (or, in my opinion, friends to enemies to lovers) that unfortunately will never come to fruition.

One word to describe them: Jealousy

Their best scene: Nat apologizes to Jackie's bones

"You're lucky, you know? I think shit is going to get a lot worse out here. But you're already dead so, way to make everyone jealous of you one last time. I'm sorry, for what we did. Who knows, maybe you could be the reason we survive the winter, so thanks. Rest in peace, Jackie."

—

And if you’re interested, the most-written romantic pairings on ao3 at the time of making this post are as follows: Shauna Shipman/Jackie Taylor (1,564 works), Lottie Matthews/Natalie Scatorccio (1,202 works), Van Palmer/Taissa Turner (1,019 works), Laura Lee/Lottie Matthews (396 works), Misty Quigley/Natalie Scatorccio (258 works), Natalie Scatorccio/Jackie Taylor (185 works), Lottie Matthews/Shauna Shipman (182 works), and Travis Martinez/Natalie Scatorccio (120 works).

[rightwheretheyleftme]

The definite list of my favorite Zukka fanfics

I wanted to compile and recommend all of the Zuko/Sokka fanfics that I’ve read and enjoyed :)) so here it is

Real Enough to Get Me Through, by marriedzukka

status: incomplete (15/16)

rating: M

word count: 216k

description: After Iroh passes, Zuko reaches his breaking point. As he navigates the path through grief, he meets a kindred soul and begins to heal in more ways than one.

not my proudest moment(s), by veronica_soy

status: complete (1/1)

rating: E

word count: 12k

description: 5 + 1 stories where Sokka gets jealous at Zuko’s interactions with other people. very cute

i'll tell you the truth (but never goodbye), by lesmiserablol

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 19k

description: zuko and sokka get divorced and try to make it work over 20 years. this will make you cry like a baby

I have no expectations; Cant trust my imagination, by miraclesandmishaps

status: complete (1/1)

rating: M

word count: 5k

description: smut!!! zuko and sokka get married for political reasons and have their wedding night

Sleep with Me (no really, go to bed), by secretsmutcompendium

status: complete (2/2)

rating: E

word count: 6k

description: more smut!! zuko has insomnia and sokka has a very creative solution

Changing Tapestries, by Gwyn_Paige

status: complete (1/1)

rating: G

word count: 8k

description: cute canon-compliant fic where zuko just adopted izumi and sokka visits the palace to meet her

Please Return if Found, by CSHfic, VSfic

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 5k

description: a real world but with bending au where druk gets lost and sokka returns him

what did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth (what were you digging), by Draco_sollicitus

status: complete (1/1)

rating: M

word count: 18k

description: hades and persephone au where zuko is hades, sokka is persephone, and katara is demeter

by the stars above, i knew we were in love, by theycallmesuperboy

status: complete (1/1)

rating: E

word count: 35k

description: more divorced zukka! canon-compliant fic where zuko proposes and it goes wrong. angst with a happy ending

Nip It in the Bud, by ranilla_bean

status: complete (3/3)

rating: E

word count: 15k

description: fun smut! sokka finds out that zuko got nipple piercings. chaos ensues.

breakable heaven, by haley625

status: incomplete (10/11)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 87k

description: canon-compliant fic where sokka asks zuko to be his fake boyfriend

and i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands), by nebulastucky

status: complete (11/11)

rating: M

word count: 88k

description: sokka and zuko are friends with benefits. this fic altered my brain chemistry

isn't this the vision that you wanted, by nebulastucky

status: complete (6/6)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 34k

description: canon-compliant fic where zuko is in love with sokka and plans to tell him. so, so tender.

i never get to hold you (as long as i want to), by nebulastucky

status: complete (3/3)

rating: E

word count: 28k

description: the sequel of the previous fic. read this if you want to swoon.

it's the illusion of separation, by argentoswan

status: complete (19/19)

rating: M

word count: 117k

description: real world au where sokka gets a job at iroh’s tea shop and reunites with his high school bully, zuko. enemies to lovers with a lot of fluff

this is me trying, by argentoswan

status: incomplete (19/?)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 91k

description: au where moon-blessed sokka has an arranged marriage with prince zuko. they have a rocky start but slowly fall in love

(do you take this jerk to be) your one and only, by jatersade

status: complete (10/10)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 55k

description: au where prince zuko has an arranged marriage with princess yue and sokka has to teach him water tribe culture. this fic has the most intimate non-sexual scene i’ve ever read

Operation: Get the Fire Lord a Boyfriend, by RejectsCanon

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 10k

description: 5 times that Zuko’s staff tried to pair him up with ambassador Sokka… without knowing that they were already dating

Strange Young World, by CSHfic, VSfic

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 8k

description: In the weeks following the war, Zuko faces a gauntlet of Agni Kai challengers. Sokka worries. (it’s more of a zuko-centric fic with some sprinkles of zukka)

how to survive your hot best friend (a study in failure), by SyciaraLynx

status: complete (1/1)

rating: E

word count: 17k

description: post-canon fic where sokka visits the palace and zuko is unbelievably horny and in love. druk is also there

how to get your dad a mate (a lesson in meddling), by SyciaraLynx

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 5k

description: the previous fic retold from druk’s perspective. read this if you want to read about zuko being loved

Blood Lust, by SyciaraLynx

status: complete (1/1)

rating: E

word count: 3.9k

description: assassin zuko and moon-blessed sokka smut

The Boy Who Smells like Cinnamon, by dabblingwithwords

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 11k

description: Sokka has a crush on the boy who works at the Jasmine Dragon Tea Shop. He's not subtle.

everybody knows, by sulky bender

status: complete (2/2)

rating: M

word count: 3k

description: fire lord zuko is slutty and sokka is enthralled. smut

Hot Fire Lord Summer: 2 Hot 2 Fire Lord, by sulkybender

status: complete (1/1)

rating: M

word count: 1k

description: sequel of the previous fic. The problem with being exclusive is that Zuko has a massive sex drive. Which... is not really a problem for Sokka.

call me by some other fucking name, by sulkybender

status: complete (1/1)

rating: M

word count: 2k

description: sequel to the previous 2 fics. the palace staff starts referring to sokka as zuko’s concubine

sometimes a future I've already had before, by sulkybender

status: complete (8/8)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 15k

description: sokka and zuko adopt 8 year old feral izumi while zuko struggles with depression. this will make you cry

beloved of the sun, by sulkybender

status: complete (13/13)

rating: M

word count: 32k

description: post-canon fic where zuko faces a civil war. so much angst but also love

a shame you don’t know, by Haicrescendo

status: complete (3/3)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 9k

description: child zuko finds refuge in sokka’s home

a subtle electric fire, by agni_kai

status: complete (9/9)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 60k

description: trans zuko!! he’s a single parent raising izumi and sokka is the distractingly attractive teacher

How to Prepare for the Unexpected, by secretsmutcompendium

status: complete (5/5)

rating: E

word count: 9.8k

description: smut! sokka hides lube bottles in multiple unexpected places in case he and zuko get freaky outside the bedroom

chaliced flowers, by zuko96

status: complete (1/1)

rating: M

word count: 4k

description: zuko wants to get sokka’s attention. the solution? send him nudes and pretend they were for someone else

a great chord sings, by zuko96

status: complete (1/1)

rating: E

word count: 9k

description: zuko and sokka are friends with benefits and the gaang does secret santa

Bǎobèi, by Haicrescendo

status: complete (1/1)

rating: E

word count: 10k

description: zuko and sokka get drunk at a party and fuck. very cute teenage love

Love And Fraud, by Haicrescendo

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 6k

description: sokka and zuko pretend to be a couple to get free stuff during valentine’s day

People you've been before, by sulkybender

status: complete (8/8)

rating: M

word count: 11k

description: post-canon fic where sokka gets amnesia. this will make you cry like a baby

zukki fics! (suki/sokka/zuko)

three’s a crowd (series), by overcomewithlongingfora_girl

status: complete (7 fics)

rating: E

word count: 43k

description: a series of fics where zuko, suki and sokka are a throuple

maybe there's room in a heart for more, by veronica_soy

status: complete (1/1)

rating: E

word count: 16k

description: a rewrite of the boiling rock where zuko, sokka and suki catch feelings for each other

The Iconoclast, by ranilla_bean

status: complete (5/5)

rating: E

word count: 36k

description: au where fire lord zuko sends a call for a new bodyguard across the four nations. suki and sokka respond

My Son & The Fire Lord (And Also Her), by avatays

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 7k

description: Hakoda doesn't know who is dating Sokka - until he sees Zuko and Suki kissing. Whichever one of them it is that’s dating Sokka, they're cheating on his son.

Sokka's Ten Step Plan To Win Over Fire Princess Izumi, by unacaritafeliz

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 2k

description: sokka panics because he’s failing at being izumi’s “cool dad”

And Babe, (What Do you Mean) We Ain’t Even Dating, by Erisenyo

status: complete (1/1)

rating: M

word count: 19k

description: Five times Zuko thinks he's third wheeling and one time he really, really isn't.

Three's a Party, by desden0va

status: complete (4/4) (still updating)

rating: E

word count: 0

description: a compilation of nsfw zukki fanarts

Hot Fire Lord 3some, by sulkybender

status: complete (1/1)

rating: E

word count: 2k

description: part of the hot fire lord trilogy from before. the title is self-explanatory

all i ever wanted was love, by aurora_chiroptera

status: complete (1/1)

rating: Teen and up

word count: 8k

description: zukki adopts izumi

don't make a fuss, by quenchyest (nights)

status: complete (20/20)

rating: E

word count: 94k

description: Zuko needs a little administrative help, so Sokka clears his schedule, and accidentally falls in love.

that’s it 🙏🏻 enjoy

[soluversworld]

4 days with Ren!- Ren x G.N Reader

(Clickbait Titl-….!!!

Words:8000

Genre: Fluff

Summary: — you encounter Ren, a seemingly shy and awkward stranger who enters your bookstore. At first, his nervousness and fumbling words leave you uncertain about his intentions, but as the interaction progresses, you begin to notice subtle, yet familiar traits about him. His nervousness, his playful yet shy demeanor, and the blue eyes all hint at something deeper, but it isn’t until later that you realize the truth—

( Reader is a g.n!)

EXTRA: Let me know if I continue this! This is kind of a heart-felt shit so don’t worry.

Reader can be a idiot at times, Since we don’t know Ren’s real name. His real name is taken as [REDACTED]

I’m sorry for the delay! I scarped this so many times, I really started to feel stressed about this..

[[MORE]]

“Eh? You… wanna marry me…?”

The memory was hazy, but vivid enough to make your heart flutter even now. It had happened when you were both just kids, playing together on the playground like any other day.

[REDACTED] had tugged at your hand with uncharacteristic urgency, his dark hair falling messily into his wide, nervous eyes. He told you he had something important to say.

Then, out of nowhere, he dropped to one knee before you. His small, trembling hands held up a ring—crafted clumsily from what looked like tin foil, the kind of thing only a child would painstakingly make. The other ring sat snugly on his own finger.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him. His earnest expression, the slight shake in his voice, the sincerity in his gesture—it was all too much. Your cheeks burned as you cupped them instinctively, trying to hide the blush spreading across your face.

He looked so nervous. So hopeful.

Your lips parted to say something—anything—but you froze.

You’d always liked him, hadn’t you? Even then, there had been something about [REDACTED] that made your chest tighten. You didn’t fully understand it back then, but now it was so clear.

Before you could gather your courage to respond, the moment shattered.

“Hey! What’re you doing to them?!”

Leon, ever the self-appointed protector, charged onto the scene. With one swift motion, he smacked the little ring out of [REDACTED]’s hand, sending it tumbling into the dirt.

The entire playground fell silent.

“Don’t worry!” Leon declared loudly, puffing out his chest. “I’ll protect you from weirdos like him!”

Your heart dropped as you saw the way [REDACTED] flinched. His hands hovered where the ring had been, his gaze darting to you for reassurance.

“But, Leon…” you started quietly, the protest barely leaving your lips.

It was too late. [REDACTED] scrambled to pick up the ruined ring, his shoulders shaking as he clutched it tightly. Tears streaked down his cheeks, but he didn’t say a word.

He turned and fled, his quiet sobs fading into the distance, you stood frozen, guilt twisting in your stomach. You wanted to chase after him, to tell him it was okay, that you didn’t care about Leon’s interruption or the rumors about his family. You didn’t care about anything except the fact that he had been brave enough to bare his heart to you.

But you didn’t. You let him walk away.

All you could do was watch his retreating figure and whisper softly to yourself, too late for him to hear:

“I would ve said yes…”

“But Leon!” you repeated, louder this time, frustration bubbling up as you watched [REDACTED] disappear.

“What?” Leon shot back, his arms crossed defiantly. “I just saved you! That guy’s weird, and you shouldn’t hang out with him!”

“You’re so mean!” you snapped, stomping your foot. “He wasn’t doing anything wrong! He just wanted to—” You stopped yourself, suddenly feeling too vulnerable to explain. “You’re always ruining everything!”

Leon puffed up like an offended balloon. “I’m not ruining anything! I’m protecting you, dummy!”

“I don’t need protecting!” you shouted, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re just a big, mean bully!”

Leon’s cheeks flushed pink as he huffed and looked away, his pout making him look even more childish. “Fine, do whatever you want! But don’t blame me when that weirdo does something weird!”

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms in a perfect mirror of his stubborn stance. “I will do what I want! And stop calling him weird!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, kicking a pebble with his shoe. After a moment, his voice softened. “But I’m still gonna keep an eye on him, okay? Just in case.”

You hesitated, then nodded, your earlier anger fading into relief. “Fine. As long as you’re not mean about it.”

Leon gave a reluctant shrug, muttering something under his breath about “always having to be the grown-up.”

It wasn’t until later that you realized how little it mattered. Days passed, then weeks, but [REDACTED] never came to see you again.

At first, you waited eagerly, sitting on the swings after school, hoping he’d show up like he always did. But he didn’t. You told yourself he was just busy, that he’d come by soon.

But he didn’t.

Maybe he was avoiding you. Or maybe it was his family. The whispers about them had only gotten worse. You’d overheard adults saying things they thought kids couldn’t understand. Things that made your chest ache and your fists clench.

You waited until the hope in your heart shrank into something fragile and brittle. Until you couldn’t hold it anymore, and one day, you cried. You cried because you missed him. Because you couldn’t fix whatever had gone wrong. Because you never got to tell him how much he meant to you.

And [REDACTED]—he was out there somewhere. Maybe he wanted to come back. Maybe he didn’t. You didn’t know.

All you knew was that the boy with the messy black hair and the trembling hands had slipped away from your life.

And even though you were just a kid, you felt like you’d lost something you might never get back.

You remembered again..Didn’t you?

Stifling a groan with the rim of your coffee cup, you fumbled for the remote wedged between the couch cushions and turned off the TV.

There was no way you were letting some grim headline ruin the start of your morning—especially not today. Today marked your first day back at work since earning that hard-fought promotion.

Sure, working at a library, organizing and sorting through shelves of books, wasn’t exactly the dream job you’d envisioned growing up. It wasn’t even close to the top of your list when you decided to move back.

But the pay was good, your coworkers were warm and welcoming, and the library’s location couldn’t have been more convenient—just a short walk from your apartment.

And on the way, there was this cozy little bakery that served the best shortcakes and croissants you’d ever tasted.

You sipped your coffee with a soft smile, thinking briefly about how much [REDACTED] would’ve loved that bakery.

It was a fleeting thought, but one that lingered, curling in the back of your mind like the steam from your mug.

Why was it still so easy to think about him?

Even now, after all this time, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unfinished business. Regret? Guilt? Maybe a little of both. You’d wanted to give him a chance back then. You really did. But life had gotten in the way. Or maybe it wasn’t life.

Maybe it was you.

You swallowed hard, setting the cup down on the table with a soft clink. Maybe you were the problem. Maybe he’d moved on, forgotten all about the mess you’d left behind.

And yet, the thought of him still made your chest ache. You wondered what he was doing now, where he was, if he still remembered you too.

Maybe… just maybe… you’d see him again.

It still beats living in the city, though. Honestly… you weren’t even sure why you left your hometown in the first place.

The fast-paced, hustle-and-bustle lifestyle of the city just wasn’t what you longed for when staring out your window on sleepless nights. The people there were always rude and indifferent, making you feel like a stranger in a crowd.

It was nothing like Corland Bay. There, everyone felt like a close-knit family, and the air smelled of salt and sea rather than car exhaust and pollution.

Sure, the local crime rate had been creeping up lately, and there weren’t as many exciting places to visit, but that didn’t bother you much. Your new job kept you busy, and you’d take a quiet evening alone at the beach over a night in a crowded, shady bar with people you barely considered friends. In fact—

bzzt bzzt!

Setting your mug on the table, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. A notification from Moth, your online friend, lit up the screen. Their username always brought a small smile to your face.

Tapping the screen, you opened the message to find an adorable sticker of some anime character giving a thumbs up, accompanied by a short, cheerful note:

“Good luck today!”

Moth had always been adamant about showing their endless support for you. Even after five years of friendship—filled with cursed memes, late-night video calls, and discussions about the most random topics—they never failed to brighten your day.

And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were truly grateful to have someone like Moth in your life.

Pulling up the keyboard, you began to type a response to their message.

…How will you respond?

It really was considerate of them to send this message—especially given the contrasting time zones—so you decided to send back a quick:

“Thank you! :)”

Moth “btwww! did u see the latest AoG ep?? i heard Haruko got an outfit change!!!!”

Moth “spoil it for me. did he really change his hairstyle as well?”

Moth “or was it really just his sorceror outfit?”

Attack on Giants—or “AoG,” as Moth liked to call it—was a popular anime series you and they had recently become obsessed with. Haruko, one of the main characters, was a sorcerer known for his shy and airheaded demeanor. Lately, his hairstyle had sparked debate in the fandom, and Moth was clearly eager to discuss it.

Now that you thought about it… what hairstyle did Haruko have in the latest episode?

Moth “cuz it’s like… almost 9:30 where you are rn”

Moth “right???? or am i just dumb and got the time zones mixed up again lol”

Glancing at the time displayed on your phone, your eyes widened in alarm. It was 9:30—nearly time for work. Letting out a string of curses, you leapt to your feet, nearly knocking over your coffee in the process.

Cursing under your breath, you toss your phone onto the couch and rush to your bedroom. Work wasn’t going to wait for you, and you’d already pushed your luck with timing this week. But as you throw open your closet, your fingers linger over your usual outfits. Today didn’t feel like a typical day—why not switch it up a bit?

Your eyes dart to the newer pieces you’d been collecting lately, leaning heavily into an emo-gothic vibe. You’ve been obsessing over the style lately, and while it wasn’t your usual go-to, the mix of dark tones and edgy accents had been calling your name.

It wasn’t like anyone at work would say much—libraries weren’t exactly fashion runways, after all. And besides… the idea of blending the “softie” energy you adored with a bad-boy edge gave you an odd sense of satisfaction.

Pulling together your outfit, you settle on:

A loose, oversized black sweater with slightly distressed hems, layered over a plain dark-gray shirt for texture. Slim-fit black pants with subtle zipper and chain details that didn’t scream “rebellion” but hinted at it. Chunky platform sneakers that added just enough height to feel bold without overdoing it. To tie it all together, you add a choker with a small pendant and a pair of simple silver rings. You glance at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the choker slightly and ruffling your hair for a casual, messy look. Softie lover with a bad-boy phase? Yeah, that checked out. With a small laugh, you grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and head for the door.

You lock up and start walking to work, you feel a small thrill of confidence creeping in. The outfit wasn’t just a look—it was a mood. And today, you were determined to make it through with your head held high.

“Seriously… When will that lazy bum of a landlord do something about this?” you mutter, fiddling with the stubborn lock on your apartment door.

You wiggle the key again, sighing in frustration. “I swear I’ve complained about this at least four times this month…”

“Hey there! Looking good!”

You turn to see Violet, your ever-cheerful neighbor, practically glowing as she juggles her apartment key in one hand and balances yet another potted plant on her hip with the other.

Resting on her hip was, indeed, another plant. You can’t help but wonder where on earth she was going to put it this time. Her balcony was already a mini rainforest, brimming with lush greenery and various flora. At this point, you’re almost convinced she’s converted her whole apartment into a greenhouse.

Not that you’re complaining—her plants do a fantastic job of masking the occasional smell of smoke or burnt food that wafts out when you attempt to cook. The floral, earthy aroma is a blessing in disguise.

“Love the shoes, by the way! The color reeeeally compliments your aura this morning,” Violet gushes, beaming at you.

A small laugh escapes you as you glance down at your platform sneakers. “Thanks, Violet.”

“You’ll have to let me peek inside your closet someday,” she says, winking. “I’ve been looking for some new inspiration lately. Especially with winter right around the corner… Ahh, I’m getting excited just thinking about it!”

Her enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself smiling despite your earlier frustration with the lock.

“Oh! But back to you!” Violet’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, her growing smile as bright as ever.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you too!” Violet chirps, her smile never faltering. “I’d usually still be at the flower shop at this time, so it’s nice to finally be able to catch up with you like this—especially when our schedules align!”

She adjusts the potted plant on her hip before adding, “Speaking of! You should stop by my place the next time you’re free. I’d love to introduce you to this little guy’s family.”

You glance at the plant she’s holding, raising an eyebrow at the thought of meeting its “family.” Before you can say anything, Violet’s eyes light up, and she leans closer.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but… When were you going to tell me that you were seeing someone?”

You blink, thrown off by the sudden topic change. “What?”

“C’mon! Don’t act like you didn’t just have a guy over last night. I saw him leaving when I took Cathy out for a walk.”

For a moment, your brain stalls. The fact that Violet takes her plants—her named plants—out for nighttime strolls is peculiar enough, but the idea of someone leaving your apartment completely derails your thoughts.

You shoot Violet a concerned look, and she immediately picks up on it.

“You… don’t remember? Don’t tell me you were drunk or something!”

She lets out a huff, abandoning her attempt to unlock her own stubborn door. Setting the plant down carefully, she saunters over to you, her expression a mix of curiosity and mischief.

“Tall guy? Wearing a dark slasher hoodie? Probably into either alt fashion or bondage with the crazy amount of belts and loops wrapped around his leg?”

Violet tilts her head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Oh, and he had dark black hair. Pretty striking, honestly.”

Her words make your stomach lurch. A memory flashes through your mind—soft laughter, small hands grasping a silver ring, and a promise made in the naivety of childhood. Could it be… him? The boy who disappeared from your life so long ago?

Without thinking, you stammer, “I-It’s my boyfriend!” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and your voice cracks just enough to make you cringe inwardly.

Violet blinks, surprised, then smirks knowingly. “Ohhh, really? Your boyfriend, huh? Well, now I definitely need to meet him. You should introduce him sometime.”

You nod frantically, hoping to change the subject. “Y-Yeah, sure, I’ll… I’ll do that.”

She beams, her curiosity seemingly satisfied for now. “Great! Well, I’m off to raid some dungeons in that MMO I told you about. Gotta carry my team, as usual.”

With a giggle, she scoops up her potted plant and waves as she heads back to her apartment. “Later, go with your mystery-dater!”

You wave weakly, watching her retreat. As soon as she’s out of sight, you scratch your head in frustration. “What the hell was that?” you mutter under your breath.

Not all dark-haired guys could possibly be him. What were you even thinking? That kid—the one who gave you that ring, who promised you the world in the way only children could—was nothing more than a distant memory. You haven’t seen him in years. Childhood romance? Seriously? You shake your head, letting out a huff.

Still, the thought lingers longer than it should, tugging at the edges of your mind as you lock your door and finally head off to work.

You shake your head again, groaning as the realization sets in. “God, I’m such an idiot!” You can’t help but say it aloud, even if you’re just talking to yourself. The more you think about it, the dumber it seems.

Why did you even react like that? Just because some guy with dark hair left your apartment, it doesn’t mean it was him. It’s probably just some random guy. You never even saw his face, so why did you feel the need to defend him like that? Just a few words from Violet, and suddenly you’re out here saying it’s your boyfriend. Your boyfriend? Really?

It didn’t help that you got flustered, making the situation even weirder. Your head feels heavy, and you want to slam your palm against your forehead in frustration. You’re staring at the door as though it’s the culprit here, like the very existence of it will somehow make everything less awkward. But deep down, you know that’s not the case.

This is dumb. You’ve known him for how long? The answer is years—and all you’ve got to show for it is a bunch of fragmented memories and a ring that’s gathering dust somewhere. You didn’t even know if that kid—no, that person—is still out there, or if he’s even remotely the same. Yet, here you are, thinking maybe you’ve let some weird twist of fate drop him back into your life in the most awkward way possible.

Exhaling sharply. The room feels suddenly smaller, your thoughts cluttered with questions that don’t have answers. What does this even mean?

“Seriously?” you mutter again, this time with a crying emoji look on your face, as if to signal just how messed up everything has become in the span of a few minutes. You stare at the wall, your mind reeling with the possibilities. Could it be that someone’s been in your house without you knowing?

The idea doesn’t sit well with you at all. You have a pretty strong feeling that you’d notice something off about your apartment. Yet, even as you mentally search for clues, everything seems… normal? You don’t remember anything being out of place, no missing items, no strange smells. Just the same old messy, cozy apartment where you usually keep to yourself.

But what if you missed something?

What if this guy—whoever he is—had been sneaking around your apartment when you weren’t looking? What if he’d been here for more than just that one night, slipping in and out like some shadow, while you thought nothing was amiss? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, your heart racing at the very possibility.

It makes sense, doesn’t it? People break into places all the time, right? Or maybe he didn’t break in—what if he just slipped in? You remember how relaxed you’ve been, how easily you let your guard down after getting used to living alone. You’ve never been paranoid or particularly cautious. Maybe that’s the issue. Maybe you’ve been too comfortable.

The more you think about it, the worse it gets. You try to shake off the thoughts, but they persist, like dark clouds following you no matter where you go. You can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong, even if you can’t quite put your finger on it.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there when your phone buzzes again, but it startles you enough to snap you out of your spiraling thoughts. You grab it instinctively, desperate for something to take your mind off the wild ideas plaguing you.

The message is from Violet, which only makes you feel more like an idiot. Seriously? Why is she messaging you now?

Violet

“Heyyy! I almost forgot to mention something! I was just thinking… If you’re not busy later, I could swing by and help you with that lock issue. I can’t stand when things like that get in the way, and you’ve been dealing with it for a while, huh?”

You stare at the message, considering it for a second. Help with the lock? You could definitely use some help. You haven’t been able to get it to work properly for ages, and it’s becoming a hassle. But now, you’re not even sure if you want anyone over. Not after what Violet said.

The nagging thought creeps back. What if someone has already been in here? What if they’re waiting for me to slip up again?

You rub your face with your hand, fighting the urge to get paranoid. Stop it. You’re overthinking this, you try to tell yourself, but it doesn’t help. Violet’s just being nice. She doesn’t know anything. You’ve got nothing to hide, right?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, undecided on whether to reply. You don’t want to sound weird or like you’re flipping out. You’ve barely seen Violet more than a few times when your schedules happen to align. But you can’t deny that there’s something unsettling about this whole situation now.

Maybe you should talk to her. You should’ve just talked to her earlier, told her you’re fine. Instead, you defended someone you don’t even know, let your own stupid reaction make things weird, and now you’re overthinking everything. You let one stupid comment spiral out of control.

You take a deep breath and start typing.

You

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m okay for now. It’s just one of those things, y’know? Maybe next time though!”

You hit send before you can second-guess yourself. Maybe it’s better to leave it at that. Besides, you’ve got enough to handle with work and your apartment, and you’re not sure you’re ready to let someone into your life, especially with all the confusion swirling around.

For now, you’ll deal with it alone.

“Oh!”

She looks surprised for some reason before her expression softens into a warm smile. She tilts her head slightly, beckoning you closer with a subtle nod.

Elanor, one of your co-workers at Corland Bay Library, is one of the few people here who actually gets things done. She’s a bit scatterbrained—infamously so—but she more than makes up for it with her kind and doting attitude toward everyone.

Still, her nurturing personality can feel… overbearing at times, and you’ve learned to step away every now and then just to catch a breather.

“Sooooo?” she starts, her tone light and teasing. “How does it feel to no longer be the one in charge of stacking books all day long?”

Before you can respond, she adds, “Although… You’ll still have to work the front desk from time to time, unfortunately.”

You offer a polite smile, shrugging slightly, before making your way past her. Rounding the corner, you duck down and slide your bag under the desk. You start pulling out your belongings, preparing for the day ahead.

The familiar chime of the library’s front door rings out, signaling that another patron has just entered. You glance toward Elanor briefly, figuring she’s got it all handled. She always does, even with her scatterbrained tendencies.

For now, you focus on getting your things organized, letting the quiet hum of the library settle your earlier frustrations. The bookshelves, the faint scent of paper and ink, the low murmur of distant conversations—this place has always been a refuge, even on your busiest days.

Still, there’s a nagging thought in the back of your mind: the strange conversation with Violet..

Elanor

“Looks like he’s back again.”

Elanor chuckles softly, inclining her head toward the person she’s talking about.

“You know, that new guy. I don’t know when he started showing up here in the Bay, but he always comes in and rents the books you put on the display window.”

Her voice takes on a teasing tone as she continues, “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he has a little crush on you.”

She pauses for dramatic effect, adding with a playful grin, “Because he was staring. A lot.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you push Elanor’s office chair so she’s facing the other way. Without another word, you turn your attention back to the papers in front of you, trying to shake off the heat rising to your cheeks.

What is with everyone today? you think, frustrated. Smiling too much, gossiping, meddling in business that isn’t theirs—it’s like everyone is conspiring to test your patience.

And as if the morning hadn’t been chaotic enough, the thought of a potential intruder still lingers at the back of your mind. It’s a problem your deadbeat landlord probably won’t do anything about, no matter how many complaints you’ve filed.

You sigh heavily. Maybe I should just buy a stronger lock on my way home. Or even an alarm system. But then another thought strikes you: Would the stores even still be open by the time I get off work?

The realization only adds to your frustration, and you rub your temples, trying to will away the tension building in your head.

Elanor

“Would you look at that… Loverboy in aisle 8 needs some help, it seems.”

She nods toward the flashing red light above the bookshelves, the signal for staff assistance.

With a sigh, you reluctantly rise from your chair. Of course, Elanor isn’t going to help him herself, and you already know she’s grinning like a Cheshire cat, thoroughly enjoying your predicament.

Refusing to glance back at her, you begrudgingly head toward aisle 8. You can practically feel the smug energy radiating from behind you as you weave through the shelves.

Turning the corner, you’re met with a broad figure standing with his back to you. He’s wearing what has to be the comfiest cardigan you’ve ever seen. The stranger hasn’t noticed you yet, so you awkwardly clear your throat and shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Ahem!”

The guy flinches at the sound, startled, before turning around.

“Ah-!”

When he finally faces you, you’re momentarily struck silent. His soft, doe-like eyes and towering height catch you off guard, and you’re left staring for a beat too long.

So this is the guy who always checks out my book recommendations? you wonder. He fits the cosy literature-lover vibe perfectly.

But it’s his pink hair that really throws you off—it immediately reminds you of Haruko, the anime character you’ve been obsessing over with Moth during your late-night video calls. Even the cut and style of his hair look eerily similar.

Is this a coincidence? Or is this hairstyle trending, and I’m just the last person to know?

You take another good look at him, craning your neck slightly to get past the sheer height difference. There’s something else, too—he looks like a near picture-perfect version of the male lead from Always With You, a webcomic you’ve been devouring lately.

Your thoughts spiral into comparisons, imagining this guy as the real-life version of the dreamy love interest from the story.

You’re so lost in your imagination that you don’t notice his sheepish movements until he scratches his jaw, seemingly trying to snap you out of it.

“Woah… You look…”

His quiet murmur barely registers in your distracted mind.

“But I thought you preferred softer clothing…? That’s why I…”

His voice trails off, leaving you blinking as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

Realizing how spaced out you must seem, he quickly clears his throat, his face tinged with cherry-pink embarrassment.

“Ahem! Um… S-Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you.”

He shifts on his feet, glancing at the books around him as if searching for a lifeline.

“I was just looking for… Uhh…”

The sound of his voice pulls you back to the present, and you mentally shake yourself out of your daze. The words spilling from his lips tumble out softly, and you can’t help but notice how they match his gentle, uncertain demeanor.

Suddenly, you feel a wave of self-consciousness. What is wrong with me? Pull it together, Y/N!

Your gaze flickers up to his face again, drawn irresistibly to his big blue eyes. They’re impossibly soft, like a watercolor painting, but there’s something hauntingly familiar about them.

And then you see it.

A glint of silver catches your eye—a ring hanging from a delicate chain around his neck. Your breath catches in your throat. That ring. That simple, unassuming band… It couldn’t be, could it?

No, it’s not possible…

A ring. Dangling from a chain.

Your breath hitches.

No… It couldn’t be. But as your eyes dart between the ring and his face, the realization slams into you like a tidal wave.

Those eyes.

The boy.

The boy.

Your legs feel like they might give out as you stare at him, your heart racing faster with every passing second.

It’s him.

But it’s unmistakable. The memories come rushing back, flooding your mind like a tidal wave.

The boy.

The boy from your childhood.

The one who used to run with you through the sun-dappled park. The one who’d promised, with a shy, earnest smile, The one who gave you a ring just like that before vanishing from your life, leaving behind nothing but a bittersweet ache in your heart.

And now here he was, standing right in front of you, wearing the very thing you thought you’d only ever see in your dreams.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the rhythm chaotic and overwhelming. Those eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—stare back at you, still soft and warm, just as you remember.

He’s taller now, broader, more grown-up. But those eyes? Those haven’t changed. Not one bit.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Your throat feels tight, your thoughts scrambled. You’re struck between disbelief and certainty.

It’s him. It’s really him.

Your chest tightens as your gaze drops to the ring again—the one on the chain around his neck. And then, lower, to his hand.

A second ring sits snugly on his finger, in the spot where a wedding band would be.

Your mind reels, the pieces clicking together, faster than you can process. Tears threaten to spill as your heart twists painfully in your chest. You’ve found him.

After all these years, you’ve finally found him.

But—what’s with the pink hair?!

You feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Not because you’re suddenly self-conscious about your messy hair or the way your cardigan doesn’t quite match your outfit. Not even because you spent the past five minutes spacing out like an awkward weirdo.

No, you feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

But you weren’t wrong about those eyes. Not then. Not now.

You blink rapidly, willing yourself to say something—anything—but all that comes out is a stammered:

“I—uh…”

He tilts his head slightly, his brows knitting together in mild concern. His voice, soft as ever, pulls you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

Okay? How could you possibly explain that your world just flipped upside down because you’re standing face to face with the boy who disappeared from your life, only to return looking like he stepped straight out of a daydream?

You swallow hard, gripping the edges of the book cart in front of you for stability. Your gaze darts back to the ring for a moment, as if needing further confirmation that this isn’t just some cruel trick of the light.

But it’s there. Just like those eyes.

“It’s… nothing.” Your voice is quieter than you intended, almost lost in the vast silence of the aisle.

He seems unconvinced but doesn’t press you further. Instead, he gives a small, uncertain smile, shifting awkwardly on his feet. The motion causes the ring to glint again, mocking you with its undeniable truth.

You were an idiot.

But not about this. Not about him.

His voice pulls you back to the present, and you hastily try to make sense of the words tumbling from his cherry-tinted lips. Watching him struggle to find the right words makes your heart flutter with sympathy, and you offer him a reassuring smile, nodding encouragingly.

At that, he takes a deep breath and tries again.

“…I need some help. I—I’m looking for a specific book, you see, but…”

Aaaaand there it is—the sleeve-tugging. The endearing awkwardness in the way he shifts nervously, almost as if he’s in a scene straight out of one of those anime shows you and Moth were always obsessed with. You can’t help but think, Moth is going to lose it when I tell them about this later.

The stranger in front of you inhales shakily once more before speaking again. This time, though, his voice is steadier, more confident, and there’s a fire in his eye.

“…Do you have any books on native flora? The best I’ve found are on generic wildlife, but nothing on Corland Bay’s plants.”

Native flora? The first thought that crosses your mind is to introduce him to Violet—she’d love to help. But then you snap back to the present, chuckling softly to yourself as you step closer to him, scanning the shelf beside him.

He almost seems to flinch at your sudden proximity, but he doesn’t move away. In fact, he leans just a little closer, his head tilting towards yours. You don’t notice it at first, but his breath hitches when your scent reaches him, and for a moment, the air between you feels heavier.

“No, you’re definitely in the right aisle. Those kinds of books are just… more hidden, I guess.”

You step past him this time, making your way over to the lower section of the shelves. Your fingers skim over the spines of the books absent-mindedly, until you find exactly what you’re looking for. You pull it out, giving the cover a once-over before holding it out to him.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

You barely notice how his gaze trails over your form as you adjust the book in your hands, your focus more on the misplaced cookbook on the shelf than the stranger behind you. You wonder if this book is really that interesting or if he’s just that into nature. Either way, he takes a tentative step forward and reaches out, pulling the book from your grasp with his shaky fingers.

He flips through a few pages, his eyes darting quickly over the contents, before giving a satisfied nod.

“Y-Yes! This was exactly what I was looking for! Thank you…”

You smile, relieved that you were able to help.

“I’m glad.”

Then, to your surprise, he suddenly adds with a soft laugh, “Haha, you’re like an angel sent down from heaven or something. You’re so helpful. Kind, too.”

Your eyes widen, unable to fully process what he just said. The words hang in the air, a bit too sweet, a bit too much for your heart to handle right now.

“…What?” you stammer, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“W-What?”

He seems mortified, his face flushing as he stammers in embarrassment. “Oh! I—I didn’t—Did I say that out loud? I didn’t mean to! Ugh, that must’ve been so weird… I’m so sorry!”

The sight of him about to crumble into a ball of nerves makes your heart clench. You quickly raise your hands in a reassuring manner and give him a gentle smile.

“Hey, it’s fine! No need to freak out. I just… I wasn’t expecting someone to say that about me, is all.”

He looks at you, still flustered, but with a relieved smile. “R-Really? Well, I think it’s true for what it’s worth.”

“Um… Thanks?”

You figure that’s your cue to leave before things get even more awkward. You offer him one last friendly smile and glance subtly back toward the reception desk, hoping for some excuse to break away. But the eccentric man shows no signs of moving. Instead, he just stands there, staring down at you expectantly.

Did he want to continue the conversation? It seems unlikely since he hasn’t said anything—he just… watches you.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat for what feels like the millionth time today and gesture vaguely toward the reception desk behind you, hoping that’ll be enough to send him on his way.

You both just stand there, locked in an awkward silence, staring at each other. It’s as if the world has slowed down, the only sounds being your heart thumping in your chest and the soft shuffle of his feet on the library floor.

“…Uh. Y-You shouldn’t stare at me like that,” you say, trying to break the tension, your voice coming out more softly than you intended. He looks at you like a good boy, all wide-eyed and unsure, making you feel even more self-conscious.

“Especially when it’s with a stranger you don’t know,” you add, puffing out a little sigh of frustration. God… You mutter under your breath, cursing yourself for even thinking about it. You never should’ve said that. Not when your almost childhood fiancé is standing right in front of you.

Nevermind, you tell yourself, swallowing your thoughts before they spill out any further.

He blinks at your words, clearly caught off guard, but instead of retreating, he straightens up slightly, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Actually… Now that I think about it, you haven’t told me your name yet,” he says, almost as if the realization had just dawned on him.

You sigh, feeling a mix of amusement and annoyance at how easily he shifts back to normal.

“Oh! Haha, I guess you’re right.”

You’re overthinking like an idiot. Your mind is racing, completely trapped in the realization that this is him. How did you not see it sooner? Those eyes. Those damn blue eyes. You didn’t even tell him anything about yourself, and yet here he is, standing right in front of you. Your heart nearly stops when he almost says his name as Redact—but you hold that damn smile like a minion, forcing your cheeks not to puff up in pure disbelief.

You can’t look away. You can’t stop staring at him. Is this really happening? Is this just some twisted dream? There’s no way—no way it could be him, right?

But then he speaks again, effortlessly breaking your spiral.

“Do what? Anyway! You can just call me Ren if you’d like,” he says, giving you a soft, almost amused smile.

Ren? Wait, what? Is it really him? Was he even flirting with you just now? Your mind whirls even faster, trying to process everything all at once.

“Is it alright if I call you Y/n? Although… Angel does suit you just as well, haha,” he adds, the tone of his voice making your heart race even more.

What. The. Hell. Just happened? Were you imagining things? Were you really just caught in some weird flirty moment with someone who looked like… him?

But then you gather enough courage to ask, your voice a bit more unsteady than usual.

“How did you know my name? I don’t remember telling you.”

Ren’s smile only grows. “Silly, it’s on your name tag.”

He reaches forward with that graceful, fluid movement and gently flicks the name tag that you somehow forgot you were even wearing this morning.

“Oh,” you mutter, realizing the awkwardness of it all.

For a second, you almost feel relieved. Maybe it wasn’t him after all—maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

But no. Those eyes. They never lie. You know exactly who you’re standing in front of. The boy. The blue eyes. You can’t deny it any longer.

It’s him. It’s really him.

Ren’s voice cuts through the air, almost playful in its tone.

“Say, are you busy later? I’d love to thank you for helping me find this book.”

Seriously, what is up with this guy? One minute, he’s shy, barely able to string a sentence together, and the next, he’s boldly asking to spend time with you. It’s almost like he’s testing the waters, trying out different sides of himself to see which one you respond to better.

You hesitate for a second before replying, still trying to process everything that’s been happening.

“Actually, I’ll be busy this afternoon,” you say, trying to keep things casual. “Need to buy a new lock for my apartment.”

Ren furrows his brow at that.

“A new lock? That doesn’t sound good. Can I ask why?”

You pause for a second, mulling over whether or not you should tell him. But, it doesn’t seem like there’s any harm in it. He’s a stranger, but what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like he’s going to show up at your door and test the lock himself.

“Apparently, someone broke into my apartment last night, and I didn’t even notice. I don’t think they stole anything, but still. It’s creepy,” you say, feeling the unease creep up on you again.

You shrug slightly, trying to brush it off as casually as you can.

“I figured it’s better to be safe than sorry, you know?”

Ren looks genuinely concerned, his gaze softening as he listens.

“Stay up all night if you have to. Really get the edge on them,” he says, an odd but kind suggestion.

You can’t help but laugh at that. There’s something about his words—so unexpected yet sincere—that make it hard not to warm up to him. He seems more relaxed now, his usual awkwardness replaced by something far more comfortable. Maybe this is the side of him you like better.

“Yeah? And who’s gonna be the one to beat the guy up at 3AM?” you joke, though the thought of it does make you feel a little safer, somehow. “Because last I checked, I’m not really the type to go around throwing punches at people I don’t know. And definitely not before the sun is up and shining.”

Before you can even finish your thought, Ren speaks up, his voice steady and confident.

“I could do it for you,” he says without missing a beat.

You blink, not sure if you heard that right.

“You?” you ask, clearly surprised. “But— I mean, we don’t even know each other that well, and…”

Ren shrugs, unfazed.

“That’s fine,” he says with a grin. “I could tell you aaaall about myself on the walk there.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you take in his words, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. There’s something about his confidence, something different from the shy guy you met moments ago.

“My whole life story and everything,” Ren continues, his grin widening. “Where I was born, the school I went to, how many cute librarians I’ve met…” He pauses, then adds, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Which happens to be one, so far.”

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can, Ren seems to pick up on your reaction—your discomfort, or maybe your surprise—and quickly backtracks.

“Ah, well,” he stammers, clearly realizing his words weren’t exactly what you expected. “What I meant was… You know, you’re really…uh…nice. And helpful. Really helpful. Sorry if that sounded weird.”

You pause for a moment, your mind racing as Ren’s words continue to echo in your head. He could really help me out… You bite your lip, fighting off the unease that comes with letting a near-stranger into your space. But… he did seem strong, and the idea of not facing this alone makes the decision easier.

“Actually… you could come by my place,” you say, surprising even yourself. “I mean, you seem strong enough to handle anything if, y'know, something goes wrong. Plus… you did offer.” You give him a small, reassuring smile, hoping he doesn’t take it the wrong way.

Ren’s eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised by your suggestion. But just as quickly, his expression shifts to one of eagerness, almost too eager. A wide grin spreads across his face.

“Yeah? Sure!! Of course! I’ll be there!” He practically beams, his earlier shyness vanishing. It’s like a switch flipped, and now he’s practically bouncing in place.

You can’t help but smile back at him, but a small voice in the back of your mind nags you. What are you doing? You barely know this guy. Still, the idea of him coming over… it almost feels right. Maybe you’re being a bit of an idiot, but at this moment, you don’t really care. You nod to yourself, deciding to just go with it. He might be exactly what you need.

But then, just as you’re about to say something else, the sound of heels clicking across the floor interrupts you. You turn, and there’s Eleanor, walking up to the desk with that ever-sweet, slightly apologetic expression on her face.

“Hey, uh, your boss is here,” she says, clearly noticing the way Ren’s mood shifts instantly.

Ren’s smile falters just a bit, and for a second, you think you see something close to irritation flash across his face. But just as quickly, it’s gone, replaced by a polite smile. He shifts his gaze back to you, his posture still tense.

“Guess I’ll see you later?” he says, voice a bit lower than before.

You feel a pang of disappointment, but quickly shake it off.

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” you reply, still smiling. “Take care of him, Eleanor.” You give her a pointed look, making sure she knows to keep an eye on him while you’re gone.

With that, you quickly turn on your heel, not wanting to linger any longer. You’ve already made your decision. Time to move on. You wave a quick goodbye to Ren, your heart still pounding, and make your way out, hoping that whatever this is… doesn’t turn into something you’ll regret later.

Poor Ren, though. You can’t help but feel a little bad leaving him with Eleanor—poor soul. You can only imagine how that conversation is going to go.

You hurry out of the store, a strange feeling pulses in your chest—like something you’ve forgotten is suddenly coming back. Your mind keeps flashing to Ren, his words, the way his eyes shifted when you suggested he come to your apartment. Wait a minute…

You stop mid-step, your breath catching. It can’t be him… But as you replay everything in your mind—the soft, nervous demeanor, the blue eyes that glinted with something familiar, the awkward charm—Oh my god. It hits you like a lightning bolt. You weren’t an idiot! You did know him.

Ren was the boy who confessed to you all those years ago. The one Leon had scared off, That was him. The memories rush back. The shy, stuttering confession, the flushed face, the way he’d stood in front of you, unsure of how to make himself heard.

He was your childhood almost fiancé —the one who slipped away from your life without you even realizing it. You could hardly believe it, but now everything made sense. The way he’d been so eager to talk to you, his sudden confidence after the awkwardness—it was like he had been waiting for this moment, for you to recognize him.

You gasp, your heart racing. Ren No, Redacted. He’s been here this whole time.

You turn around, the impulse to rush back almost overwhelming, but then your feet freeze. What are you going to do? Run back to him and admit everything? Or would that make it all worse?

But before you can make up your mind, the voice in your head interrupts, a soft laugh escaping your lips. Screw it. You found him. Your childhood crush, who had somehow slipped through your fingers and now stands before you again.

This is it.

[riverofjazzsims]

Winter Holiday 20 years old 4'11 Orientation: Heterosexual-ish Occupation: Creator of smiles Location: Where the snow first falls

Winter Holiday is an unique individual who over the last few months has started to show, shall we say some interesting characteristics. For the moment though she is mostly human. She knows that she will have an interesting road a head of her and as her parents have made her aware, a partner during this journey will be essential. Mainly because no-one knows what to expect. Her parents defied the rules and loved each other and if that wasn't bad enough did what was thought impossible, create new life. See Winter has some magical lineage, her fathers, yes fathers, are a touch legendary and her mother seemingly just human was found to be a bit more than anyone could guess.

But we are not here today to talk about them. Winter is very much a mystery and as such, details about her will become known as we progress.

Here are some fun Winter facts: ❄️she absolutely LOVES the cold and snow ❄️oddly almost anywhere Winter goes there's either a drop in temp / starts to snow ❄️The birthmarks on her cheeks slowly appeared over the years and are cool to the touch ❄️She loves the color blue ❄️Dancing is her religion

More info will be forthcoming as we lead up to the submission deadline

Contestant Entry Rules:

❄️YA males only, any ethnicity or size welcome ❄️No Occults - caveat- winner will become immortal/long lifespan as Winter will be walking this rock of a planet for a very long time. ❄️Bio/brief backstory ❄️1 negative trait/ no custom traits ❄️No in game jobs assigned please ( totally fine for them to have one listed in their bio) ❄️3 skills of your choosing, max level 5 ❄️Likes/Dislikes please - 10 max ❄️Turn-on/off optional ❄️light /med CC or Vanilla is OK ❄️NO ALPHA hair ❄️No body presets ❄️Attire: 2 everyday/ 1 cold weather. If you don't have seasons please add your sims cold weather outfit as their 3rd everyday and I will change it over to the appropriate slot in CAS. All other you can leave in underwear and I will supply outfit if/when needed. Please keep in mind we will be almost always in cold weather when outside.

Side note: I use default skin (Bare by Lamatisse) and eyes (jack eyes remastered - but i had to "fix" them to work after some patch so your simmies will be using those in game Sliders are ok as I have the most popular ones. Note I will not add any new ones in my game so small tweaks may be made to compensate

❄️ I own ALL packs ❄️

Quick Questions for the potential hopefuls What is your favorite color Tell us what makes you naughty and what makes you nice ( yes answer both) Sims height

Contestant Submissions

Submissions deadline: Saturday Feb 15th @10pm CST. If I end up with more than 7 candidates , 7 will be chosen from the submissions. More to come if this ends up being the case

Remember to tag me or use #HTDF or #KillerBC So I can see your entry and reblog

Friendly reminder this is an 18+ blog, there will be mature themes involved. So the watcher needs to be at least 18 to enter 🫡

Not everyone will make it out alive.👀☠️ Some may even disappear. There will be chaos and drama and what ever else these damn sims throw my way.

Gameplay: There will be various gameplay mods being used throughout this BC including and not limited to Wicked Whims, and several Sacrificial Mods including extreme violence There will be some storytelling component to this, As with most BC there will be some challenges, group activities/dates and solo opportunities. Interactions will predominately be autonomous and I will use that to help build the story and game play. Some scenes/interactions may be replayed out using poses/animations Winter is looking for love but keep in mind there is a story playing out along side this and its a little on the dark side and yes not everyone will make it out alive. The only ones immune to the Grimms kiss will be Winter and her parents.

[zmediaoutlet]

was scrolling through your tags and saw "i wonder if he and dean argue abt gas money" and i feel like dean is in charge of their finances. like maybe there's more to be said about that topic like winchester money or lack there of, that maybe you have opinions about? i'd love to hear them.

love your writing, btw ❤️

Dean is definitely in charge of their finances, altho what "finances" means in the era of "we know how to hack credit agencies" is a little fuzzy. (Someone pointed out a laptop screenshot where Dean emails Sam and says that Sam "owes him gas money", which is both a) endearingly dumb and in character, and also b) YOU SHARE MONEY, DORK. THERE IS NO MONEY. [Dean: "It's the principle!" me: I repeat, dork.])

Winchester money is an interesting one! In the way-way back there was this big sprawly meta conversation about their interaction with class that really went all over the place, but what's interesting about it to me is that they are no-collar while coding blue-collar middle class. Like the old middle class, of limited debt and home ownership but still being on a modest salary and with modest tastes. Maybe a vacation once a year, etc. Not that that was their exact situation, but it's the social bracket they occupy. Note that Sam was desperate to get into the white-collar strata and really tried hard to play at that, especially in s1, but like a lot of the jumped-up masses he was more bougie nouveau riche than actually part of that set -- note how he couldn't order a glass of wine in Provenance (which happens to be one of my most hated scenes in the whole series, but that's not Sam's fault, lol). He makes fun of Dean's blue-to-no-collar tendencies but he's irrevocably part of them, and luckily he grows up mentally enough over the first few years that we don't get as much of that college kid crap, just home from school and making fun of Mom's casserole for not being what the kids in the city think is cool. You like the casserole, kid. Stop fronting.

But Winchesters-and-money really takes on a whole other valence because they're free of it. Like obviously in latter years once the credit cards get perfect (I guess that's as of the introduction of Frank and/or Charlie) it means nothing, and I'm glad of that bc we actually don't need to think about it, it's a solved problem. But when they're younger, there's the literal in-the-moment needs of food/gas money/clothes/where are we gonna sleep tonight, and they're very hand-to-mouth. But the way they're hand to mouth is like... fine. They don't have to worry about a mortgage. The Impala certainly does not have insurance, and neither do they have health insurance. There is no retirement account and there are no debt collectors knocking. They're free of the credit/financial system in a way almost no one else is, because they're also completely free to steal and pirate their way through life. Not least because it's the moral choice inside the textual universe -- they have to be free to save the day, so who cares if they're fucking over some random person's credit history.

It does a really interesting thing to their characterization. They're not stuck in the backbreaking poverty of e.g. the characters in Shameless. They aren't struggling to pay bills because they don't have bills. There's in-the-moment urgency but once that moment has passed and there's food in their bellies and gas in the car and Sam's got a new pair of shoes without a hole -- they don't really have to think about it the way most would. It's almost more of an aesthetic than it is a foundational shaping. That said, you do have to solve those moments as they come because there's no savings cushion, either, so either you get the new cards from the PO box or you figure out how to scam someone or you, you know. Do whatever else Dean might've done, to make sure there was food on the table.

[pangaeaseas]

Lily marrying James isn’t a betrayal. It was, however, completely incomprehensible to me as a child reading for the first time and honestly still is after gaining life experience. Why would anyone get with somebody they witness violently abusing others for kicks, even if a mere year or two later they claim to have cleaned up their act - that was still a core part of their character?! He might’ve been charming and confident and good to people he likes, but he also sexually assaults somebody with considerably less privilege in public, which should’ve been enough of a crime to put any girl off for good even if the victim was now somebody she had cause to hate. I’d have been totally behind it if it had been a purely strategic decision to take a pureblood name in wartime! That’s pragmatism, it makes sense! But it’s written as true love, and tbh it’s never sat well with me what that says about Lily’s character, and what it says about JKR’s attitude towards the awful idea that the love of a good woman can fix abusive men.

Thanks for leaving me a reasonable response, I was a little afraid I would get people with utterly wild takes screaming at me in my inbox for that post!

Yeah, I don't think Lily marrying James is a betrayal, I'm glad we agree on that.

A lot of how we interpret J*ly depends on how we interpret James and Lily based on the very, *very* limited and biased information we receive about them. The reader can never know the full truth about them and truly know them as people, because they died pre-story and Harry will forever be learning out of context things about his dead parents without ever truly knowing them. Which, to veer a little off the main subject of the ask, is honestly a choice that really works for me as someone who lost a parent young. Receiving biased information and trying to judge based off of that while having to accept you can never form your own opinion is just how it is, for Harry and for anyone else in his position.

The thing is, the reader is placed in Harry's position. James and Lily are characters we can make extrapolations about, yes, but we don't have enough information to fully understand them. You cannot really do the same kind of deep dives on them you can do with a character like Snape, Lupin, or Sirius, because there isn't very much material there. So any argument about James and Lily will by its very nature involve a hell of a lot of speculation.

What we get about James doesn't look very good. I don't want to minimize James's terrible actions in that scene. His interaction with Lily there is a really bad way to treat her and it doesn't speak well of the future of their relationship. (And he is also terrible to Snape, obviously, but the rest of this ask isn't about Snape so I won't go more into that). To be quite honest I think some of it is JKR trying to write a rom-com bickering enemies to lovers dynamic between them but for many readers it falls flat as the implications of him trying to get her to go out with him in exchange for releasing Snape are pretty terrible. And most positive information about James we receive is through biased sources like his best friends, though I don't think we should totally discard the fact that he was a good friend to Sirius and Remus and devoted his life to fighting against the Death Eaters--potentially good qualities Lily might have liked about him. Also, in SWM, he makes a point of NOT calling Lily a Mudblood and condemning the slur, which...you are really not the moral authority here, James, but at least you are trying not to be blood supremacist--and that would be a stark contrast to someone Lily trusted suddenly calling her it. We just..don't know all that much about him, so we can either take only his bad traits or try to extrapolate some good ones (or draw out the good traits he does have canonically), depending on what you personally want to do with him.

You say that 'any girl' would be put off by James, but, well, there are a lot of reasons people are attracted to each other. People have been attracted to more terrible people all the time. Whether or not James and Lily's relationship was abusive, people stay with their abusers for all sorts of complex reasons and it feels somewhat dismissive to say 'oh, I wouldn't do that'...you're not in that position. Just because you personally wouldn't do something doesn't make it an impossible decision for someone.

And there is evidence that James matured as a person, though you can feel free to be unconvinced by it. We don't know what Lily saw in James. We can feel free to imagine it how we want to, as a fandom. I just don't think we should really be critiquing her for something largely speculative, and we especially shouldn't be using her dating James as a reason to bash her for ending her friendship with Snape. Lily is allowed to date James without it being about Snape, because she is an autonomous person with her own wants, needs, and desires. Of course, these are my interpretations influenced by my subjective reading of the text.

The final point you make is, I think, a really good one. I have a lot of problems with how J*ly is written in the books! And I do think it is absolutely influenced by the trope of a Good Woman redeeming a Bad Man. That doesn't mean said trope is the only way J*ly can be written in fic and understood in the fandom. But yeah, Lily is written in some very troubling ways...fandom discourse about her just often becomes even more troubling. My ultimate problem with the 'Lily is a bad friend' line of argument is honestly a critique of the exact same trope: the idea that Lily's purpose as a character is entirely to redeem Snape, that she was responsible for fixing him and saving him. Saying that Lily was a bad friend to Snape for not forgiving him for calling her a racial slur and specifically demeaning the help she offered him--and for not preventing him from joining the Death Eaters, even though it was his choice to do so, is misogynistic! The text is obviously not free of misogyny but fandom isn't either, which is why the Bad Friend Lily take gets me so mad because it plays into a misogynistic trope!(Thinking about it, I do wonder if the framing of Lily 'saving' James in the text is why people want her to 'save' Snape...)

Anyway, I hope this doesn't come off as condescending or rude, it's an interesting subject to discuss and it's not my intention to attack you at all. Thanks for the ask!

[lonely-night]

Jennifer Barkley and April Ludgate;

[buttercupshands]

can you even call it a warm up if I'm going to bed without drawing anything big

and a sketch I made while sitting in the park today

[cat-dragron-arts]

Murderhelion BLAST!!!

[childrenofcain-if]

D fighting that Cornell player for us 👁️🫦👁️ I need them to fight for us more, I need their knucles bloody and torn so I can kiss them better 💋

A scenario for this, dear Author?

you liked walking with D like this. their strides, usually slow and lazy, matched yours naturally, and their occasional teasing comments—softened by a warm laugh—made the cold bite of the evening feel less obvious. the faint scent of whiskey clung to them and they seemed to have a spring in their step.

“you good?” they asked, glancing at you.

“yeah,” you said, smiling. “that was pretty fun.”

they grinned, bumping their shoulder against yours. “see? i told you it’d be better than staying in.”

the black dog had been crowded, the drinks a little too watered down, but it didn’t matter. it wasn’t about the drinks. it was about the way D’s shoulder brushed against yours at the bar, how they’d leaned in close to hear you better over the music. it was the way their hand lingered either on your arms and back as you weaved through the throng of students.

the night was nearly perfect, which made what happened next feel like the universe had overcorrected.

it was a group of students—four of them, maybe a little older than you, their laughter laced with too much liquor and too little sense. they were from yale, too. you recognized a couple of faces in the dim light but didn’t know their names.

D ignored them, at least at first.

“aw, look at them,” one of them jeered, his voice dripping with something sour. “did someone finally put a leash on you, diaconu?”

you felt the tension coil in D immediately. their shoulders tightened, their hands clenched into fists. you grabbed their arm instinctively, trying to keep them moving.

“just ignore them,” you hissed warningly. “they’re drunk idiots.”

D didn’t respond, but they kept walking. for a moment, you thought that was the end of it.

but the next comment shattered that fragile hope.

“what’s the deal with you two, anyway?” another one of them slurred. “you screwing, or are they just too much of a loser to get anyone else?”

D stopped so abruptly you almost collided with them.

“D,” you said sharply, your voice low and urgent, “don’t. they’re not worth it.”

but they weren’t listening.

D spun on their heel, their eyes blazing as they closed the distance between them and the group. “what the fuck did you just say, shithead?”

the guy laughed, hiccupping a little as his friends egged him on. “i said—”

the punch landed squarely on his jaw before he could finish, the sickening crack reverberating in the stillness of the evening air like a goddamn firework.

the guy staggered back, clutching his jaw, his eyes wide with the slow shock of pain. it might’ve ended there, but his friends surged forward like a wave, all elbows and fury, and suddenly it wasn’t a single punch—it was a maelstrom of fists.

D didn’t hesitate. their movements were quick, precise, as if some dormant, feral instinct had taken over. they ducked a wild swing from the second guy, pivoting with a speed that left the drunk assailant off-balance. D’s fist collided with his ribs, and you could almost hear the breath being forced out of his lungs, a guttural wheeze that cut through the din.

but there were too many of them. four was too many, even for D, and you could see the tide turning. the third guy lunged, his arm catching D around the middle, dragging them lopsidedly. for a moment, D faltered, their body twisting under the weight of the sudden tackle, and then another pair of fists swung toward their face.

“no!” you shouted, the word ripped from your throat, but it didn’t do anything. it was swallowed by the scuffle, lost in the heavy breaths and the dull thud of fists meeting flesh.

you ran forward, panic hammering in your chest, and grabbed at the closest arm you could reach, desperate to pull them off D. but the guy was drunker than you, angrier than you, and he twisted with a surprising speed. his elbow shot out, and you barely registered the movement before it connected with your cheek.

pain exploded across your face—a sharp, electric jolt that made you fall back, clutching your cheek as the world tilted. you felt your eyes water while your vision started to swim, not so much from crying as it was from the sheer force of the blow.

something seemed to completely snap inside D when they saw you fall.

their face, already bruised and bloodied, twisted into something unrecognizable—pure, incandescent rage. it wasn’t the playful, teasing D you knew; it was something vengeful, a darker version of them you’d never seen before.

“i’ll fucking kill you all!” they roared, their voice a guttural snarl that echoed off the buildings.

they threw themself at the guy who’d hit you, their fists flying in a blur of movement. one punch landed squarely on his nose, and you saw blood spray, staining his white t-shirt red. the guy staggered, his hands flying to his face, but D didn’t stop.

the others tried to intervene, but D moved like a storm, wild and relentless. they ducked under a clumsy swing, landing a blow to the side of one guy’s head that sent him reeling. another lunged at them from behind, but D twisted sharply, their elbow connecting with their collarbone with enough force to make it crack.

blood and spit flew, the wet sounds of impact making you wince. one of the guys screamed, but it was cut short as D’s fist connected with his throat, and another’s head snapped back as they landed a brutal uppercut. a few teeth now glinted on the pavement, stark and white against the dark.

it wasn’t clean or choreographed; it was a tangle of bodies and fists and snarled curses. blood splattered onto the pavement, dark and slick, and you weren’t sure how much of it was D’s.

their knuckles were raw and split, but they didn’t seem to notice. or maybe they didn’t care. every time one of the guys landed a blow—a glancing punch to D’s side, a scrape across their cheek—they retaliated tenfold. their movements were driven by emotions beyond anger now, primal protectiveness bleeding over.

the fight seemed to last forever and no time at all. the guys were stumbling now, their earlier bravado drained, their movements sluggish and uncoordinated. one of them was already retreating, limping down the street with a hand pressed to his side.

and then the others followed, their faces pale and bruised, casting nervous glances over their shoulders as they fled. the last one hesitated, his face twisted in defiance, but a single step forward from D sent him scrambling after his friends.

silence fell, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the sound of D’s labored breathing. they were standing in the middle of the street, their chest heaving, blood dripping from their split lip onto the pavement.

you couldn’t move. couldn’t speak. all you could do was stare at them, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack your ribs.

they turned to you then, and the fury in their eyes softened, replaced by something you couldn’t quite name. concern. fear. relief.

“are you okay?” they asked, their voice rough and trembling.

you nodded, though your cheek throbbed and your heart was still racing. “i’m fine. but you—”

and all you could think, absurdly, was that they looked way worse than you.

“god, D,” you muttered, grabbing their arm. “we need to get you cleaned up.”

they tried to wave you off with a lopsided grin. “i’ll be alright, they’ll heal.”

“yeah no, you’re not letting the wounds stay like that on my watch,” you snapped, dragging them toward the nearest pharmacy.

***

D’s POV

D’s knuckles burned like hellfire, every movement of their fingers sending sharp needles of pain up their arm, but they didn’t care. it was all worth it.

they memory of that guy’s elbow slamming into your cheek replayed in their head like a film reel, grainy and ugly, until the anger swelled up again, hot and alive under their skin. they had never been the type to hold back—not when it came to you, and not when it came to anyone stupid enough to think they could hurt you.

but now, sitting on this damn bench outside a pharmacy, D was starting to regret not dodging more. their entire face felt like it had been dragged through gravel, and their lip was cracked so badly that blood kept pooling in the corner of their mouth no matter how many times they wiped it away.

you were fussing over them like a mother hen with an edge of impatience, snapping at them when they flinched or tried to shrug you off. it should have annoyed them—normally it would have—but it didn’t. it didn’t because it was you.

“stop squirming,” you said sharply, pressing a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol against the raw mess of their knuckles. the sting was immediate, searing, and D hissed through their teeth.

“jesus, you trying to finish me off?” they muttered, leaning back against the bench.

“stop being such a baby,” you shot back, not even looking up. “you can take a hundred punches, but alcohol’s too much for you?”

D pouted. “i told you it’ll heal fine on its own.”

that earned them a glare, one that should have been threatening but was softened by the way your brow furrowed in concentration. D didn’t say anything else, just watched you as you worked—watched the way your hands moved with gentleness, as well as a slight tremble of worry for them.

they liked your hands very much, they’d decided. fine-boned and nimble, like a pianist of some sort. they belonged upon ivory keys, not atop their calloused hands and knuckles.

“stay still,” you muttered, and D obeyed, for once. it wasn’t the alcohol or the bruises that had them quiet, though. it was you. it was the way you leaned in, so close that they could see the faintest flicker of concern in your eyes, even as you grumbled about scars and consequences.

“this’ll definitely leave a mark,” you said, mostly to yourself, as you began wrapping their knuckles in bandages.

“good,” D said, the word slipping out before they could think about it. you looked up, startled, and they added, “makes me look tougher, y’know?”

you rolled your eyes so hard they thought they might get stuck like that in the back of your head. “or stupider.”

“i’ll call them my battle scars,” they said smugly, even as you tugged the bandage tighter than necessary.

you huffed but didn’t reply, just kept working, your movements brisk but careful. and then you did something that completely shattered D’s composure: you kissed their knuckles.

it was barely a touch, just the softest brush of your lips against the bandages, but it felt like a seismic event. D froze, their entire body going still as their brain scrambled to make sense of what had just happened.

“what the hell was that for?” they asked, their voice quieter than they meant it to be.

you didn’t look at them. your cheeks felt hot, and you mumbled something about “speedy recovery” before returning to their other hand. D just stared at you, their heart doing something inconvenient and unexplainable in their chest.

the world felt small suddenly. just the two of you on this bench, the distant hum of cars, the faint glow of the pharmacy sign overhead. it was stupid. it was nothing.

no, it was everything.

when you finished wrapping their hands, you moved on to their face, dabbing at the split in their lip with a tenderness that made D feel like they might unravel. you didn’t say anything, and neither did they, but the silence between you wasn’t empty.

it was full of everything they couldn’t bring themself to say.

you frowned as you inspected the bruise forming on their cheek, your fingers hovering for a moment before pulling back. D watched you, their gaze tracing the lines of your face, the pair of your full lips, the starry depth of your eyes, the slight furrow in your brow.

“you’re quiet,” you said finally, breaking the spell.

D shrugged, and then winced because that hurt too. “thinking.”

“about what?”

“you.”

the word hung in the air, heavier than it had any right to be. you looked up, surprised, and D felt like they were standing on the edge of something, toes hanging over the precipice.

you opened your mouth to say something, but D beat you to it. they reached out, their hand brushing against the small bruise on your cheek. their fingers were clumsy and bandaged, but the touch was featherlight, barely there.

“it’s nothing,” you said quickly, trying to pull away, but D didn’t let you.

“it’s not nothing,” they said, their voice low and steady.

they grabbed a bandaid from the kit you’d brought, peeling it open with their teeth before gently pressing it against your cheek. you gave them a look that was half amusement, half exasperation, but you didn’t argue.

“that was unnecessary,” you mumbled.

D leaned in, their lips brushing against the bandaid. it was soft and quick, but enough to stop you mid-sentence.

when they pulled away, they had a small smile playing on their lips as they echoed your previous words. “for your speedy recovery, dragă.”

[lemongogo]

they should get to kill each other at least twice .i think

[vaggieslefteye]

ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ↳ anonymous asked: HUSK and ALASTOR or angel and valentino?

[demaparbat-hp]

The Painted Lady turned around slowly, deliberately, and stared right through each ghost present in the room. Then, she raised her hands in a graceful arc, pointed loosely at the ceiling, and chanted, “Well, off you go.” She made a shoo, go away gesture, the spirits disappeared, and—wait. The spirits disappeared.

Izumi comes back in For the Spirits Chapter VI: Dream of You. Zuko has a mild panic attack and her upbeat attitude does not help him (or does it?).

Just what is she up to? And what is the meaning behind the blue eyes from Zuko's dream?