#would love to be proven wrong though and im still excited even if im not expecting much more than a recap in terms of plot because .

[sonknuxadow]

its kinda funny to me that people are expecting a super deep and meaningful story out of sonic x shadow generations . i guess its not impossible but like . sonic generations is definitely not remembered for its story its like the nothingest of nothing burgers in terms of 3d sonic game plots . because the point there wasnt the plot it was the fun little celebration of sonics history because it was a big milestone year . and i think shadows side will inherently have to have a bit more story going on and also have a darker tone considering . gestures vaguely at his Everything . but i feel like the main goal of doing all this is to provide an easily accessible recap of what we already know about shadow for people who arent as familiar with him + to take advantage of his inevitable spike in popularity when the movie comes out. a shadows greatest hits compilation guest starring black doom

[antiloreolympus]

7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible. 

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization. 

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is. 

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane. 

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂

[spelviin]

ok now time for theorizing GOD i have missed this shit

disclaimer: this is just for funsies and i'm not like, hanging all my hopes and dreams on any of this shit pls do not take any of it seriously. theorizing abt the things i love is just how i scrape together my serotonin in this life and BOY was this a gold mine for it.

first of all, kid names/whose kids they are:

already said this, but im convinced taylor is lil (or big now i guess oh god) nicky's kid, taylor swift.

cliche, but i do think the idea of grant "big gamers only" wilson naming his kid link to remind him of better times is very funny and will imagine so until proven otherwise in 2 weeks.

normal is, ironically, the wild card in my mind. most likely TJ's kid, which i am v stoked abt bc if they are we might FINALLY find out what his last name was

also partially my best guess bc i can defs see lark not wanting kids, for fear of passing on the family curse. like yeah they're likely not active vessels for the doodler anymore, having puked it up in the finale, but im convinced there's defs some sort of residual connection or influence that is has over them, and i can see lark not wanting to risk it.

would also, however, accept grant and one of the other sons (they're still the sons to me whatever idk how else to address them without it getting complicated) are together and one of the kids is both of theirs

as for the fourth kid, this is near-completely based on my own personal ideas and not based in any sort of reality at all, BUT in the immortal words of a certain esteemed story boy and daddy, bear with me:

i really like the idea that lark and sparrow had some sort of falling out after the events of season 1

whether that falling out happened immediately after The Stabbening or later on after the OG daddies' plan failed, i just think a schism between the brothers is a really nice juicy hook/conflict to base this season around

so basically my working theory is this: at some point after the apocalypse kicked off, lark realized what he'd done and vowed to fix what he helped break, and signed on to work for DADDIES to do so

sparrow, on the other hand, saw how broken the world was, and ended up following more in his grandfather's footsteps (paying off the fact that he was showing some slightly barry-ish tendencies towards the end there that could, unchecked, very feasibly dip into the realm of toxic positivity) and decided the best thing to do would be to use whatever power he had to fix it

by "fixing it" i mean using his connection with the doodler to befriend it, and help shape the new world into a peaceful and harmonious utopia

aka, sparrow becomes the founder and leader of the Acolytes and is actively working with/for the doodler

so basically my working theory on the fourth child is, what if it's sparrow's kid, sent to infiltrate DADDIES and sabotage their efforts to overthrow the doodler from the inside

and that's why lark didn't mention them, bc he doesn't know his own niece/nephew/nibling even EXISTS bc he hasn't spoken to his brother in years

and then there's the whole code purple thing which is defs daddy magic adjacent and im guessing means "consult the o-dads" or take off barry's bracelets or something, which, if that's the case, i'm VERY interested to know how that went last time lmao.

and also there's the whole obsidian door thing which i got nothing at all on but like, i literally just got home from work, gimme a few days and im sure i'll be grasping at straws abt it somehow lmao

anyways, tl;dr i am SO FUCKING STOKED to have something to make my dumb theories about again and even though i'm defs wrong abt all of this, i'm just really excited to hear whatever the actual plot ends up being

[carinyms]

I've scrolled through a lot of discourse on episode 4 of Loki and I need to talk about it

(good lord its a whole essay im sorry)

I gave myself a headache from crying while watching this. (I joined the Loki fandom post-IW so I’ve never had to see him die before while emotionally invested and boy!!! Is it doing things to my fragile psyche!!). But now I’m rehydrated and more stable and ready to party so let’s go

Right off the bat, I loved this episode — loved it loved it loved it. Silly, manic in-shock Loki is gone and shit is getting real. My thought while watching this was truly “wow this is my favorite episode so far” and damn am I in a minority with this opinion lol.

So here’s my perspective on some of the discourse flying around, and just general thoughts

On the whole ‘Narcissist’ thing:

IMO, Mobius saying this means nothing: he’s mad and he’s spouted lies at Loki to push his buttons before (see: every interaction they’ve had since episode 1).

Loki saying this to Sif-- well, Loki is and always has been an unreliable narrator on himself. The major theme of this show is that he doesn’t really know who he is, deep down, and he’s trying to figure it out. The TVA is taking advantage of this, and even though he’s trying to stay above it all throughout the series, he's still in a really impressionable spot and absorbing what others tell him about himself. (not to mention this scene is literal torture and he’s already proven that he’ll say whatever he needs to to get out of it.)

But he does admit one true thing when he says “It’s because I’m scared of being alone.” (And like wow okay same don’t mind my tears) but here’s a big brain idea!

Sif pulls him up and says ‘You are alone, and you always will be’, which is like, WOW that’s cruel after what he said, but it makes me ask wonder: Sif is sentient in this scene, but obviously it’s not really her. Who’s controlling her? And why is it so important for them to make sure Loki thinks he’s alone? I’d go as far as to wager that Sif never even said this to Loki, the big bad made this up. (he admits he forgot about this ever happening, I doubt he’d remember what she said.)

I think the nexus event on Lamentis that caused the branch was two Loki’s joining sides. Or, Loki no longer being alone. Loki insists while talking to Mobius that “she’s not my partner!” but she was, and they were partners from the moment they grabbed hands on Lamentis — right when the timeline broke off. I think Loki variants teaming up is the biggest threat to whoever is pulling the strings here — that’s why the post-credit scene is so significant. (Is Loki the only person who has multiple variants of himself who've escaped the TVA?)

And here’s where I’m gonna get salty--so I apologize but i need to rant about this-- but it’s seriously pissing me off that so many people are intentionally reading this as Loki/Sylvie and then being mad about it when that’s clearly not what’s happening and why is everyone acting like Mobius with one angry jealous brain cell and no critical thinking about the context of the characters.

If people ship it that’s chill, but for the people who are against it—it’s clearly supposed to be platonic, and it’s so upsetting that in the year of our lord 2021 we still can’t have a man and woman hold hands without people saying it’s proof they want to f*ck each other, like what in the misogyny??? STOP. This show was written by a bi woman and Tom the-most-emotionally-sensitive-man-on-this-planet Hiddleston — let them display an intimate loving friendship goddammit. This isn’t romance, this is Loki learning how to admit he cares for someone who cares for him in return — something he hasn’t experienced a whole lot of and clearly doesn’t know how to navigate.

(You have permission to personally come at me if it actually turns out to be romantic by the end of the show—but as of right now I will die on this hill.)

Him putting his hands on her shoulders to me was a clear indication he wanted to hug her, and I’d like to think he would have told her he cares about her, and that they can figure it out together. Because these are two characters who’ve never had anyone else to rely on and trust, and for the first time they’re not alone.

And I have to think about what prompted this from Loki. He just lost Mobius the moment after he called him friend. The way I see it, he’s just realized the true gravity of what they’re up against, and Loki is suddenly very afraid of losing Sylvie too before he tells her cares about her, of dying truly alone because he never told anyone what they meant to him. (Don’t think about this in the context of him also having watched his entire family die knowing he never told Frigga or Thor how much he loved them either don’t think about it—) He’s realized, finally, that he has doesn’t have to be alone, that he can choose to be close to people and have friends. And god it’s so heartbreaking that he never got to hug her or have that moment with her. I really hope they get that in the end. I hope he gets it with Mobius. I hope they have a group hug. I'm upset again.

Okay, deep breath, ANYWAY.

Hopefully this didn’t come off as attacking anyone else’s opinions.

Personally, I love this character so much, I’m just so happy to be seeing him in his own storyline that they can’t go wrong here. Objectively I think the production is amazing, and personally I love they way Loki’s character has been explored so far. (Yea yea, was I HOPING that the bad-memory loop would morph into Sanctuary and Thanos and like a full exploration of his true worst memories? Yes but let’s be honest my whump needs will never be met in canon and I have to accept that lol.)

Honestly I left all my own meta about this character at the door when the series started, because for me the opinions I’ve formed from the hundreds of (amazing) fics and meta I’ve read on this character and what’s true in canon are basically inseparable at this point, and no portrayal is going to live up to the way Loki exists in my head. Canon Loki and fic Loki are two different characters and I can enjoy both at the same time :) I’ve just loved seeing the character get given the different dimensions he deserves, and written by people who care about his story.

Also, it’s not over! If he was dead and this was it I’d be very upset, but this is the rock bottom of the storyline, and I think the whole next two episodes will be the build back up. I trust it’s gonna be worth it. SO hyped for flaming sword Loki. I would die for Sylvie, but I’m excited to see him on his own again.

My current most pressing questions are:

-what was the fallout of Sylvie’s bombing the timeline? (Have we seen that yet, am I just dumb and missing something?)

-Obviously, who’s behind it all? (Kang? Is there a head honcho Very Evil Loki at the top?)

-How much does Ravonna actually know, and to what extent is she just a pawn too? She asked Sylvie to prune her— she’s probably also been duped here.

-Is everything we learned about the sacred timeline BS? How much of what the TVA workers believe is real?

-my favorite theory so far is that the war of the timelines miss minutes talks about hasn’t actually happened yet, maybe making setting that into motion is the true endgame, leading into Multiverse of Madness?

(Side note: holy HELL im so excited for this soundtrack to drop on Spotify. It’s SO AMAZING I had CHILLS in the end credits.)

Open invitation to discuss anything with me if you feel inclined! :)

[illneverrecover]

call you mine (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU,  non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly.  ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae​ (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine -  The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae

It’s pathetic, he knows.

The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.

He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.

Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing. 

Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.

He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him. 

You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.

Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.

Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway. 

Just like the hundreds of times before.

You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.

Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”

He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest. 

He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….

“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.” 

It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.

“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”

“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.” 

Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do. 

“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”

Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave. 

“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door. 

“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”

Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.

“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out. 

Just like the hundreds of times before.

It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing. 

You were trying to let him down easy.

So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner. 

Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.

He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.

He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him. 

Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep. 

He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.

Until he sees you with someone else.

It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.

The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.

You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.

Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.

Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text -  all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.

Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.

Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.

<What are you doing? Why won’t you answer my texts? I fucking miss you.>

<And not just fucking you. I miss you. I miss us. If you want me to stay for the rest of my life, I will. You already got me.>

<Answer me, Y/N. Or I’m going to come over, see if you can ignore me to my face>

<Baby?>

<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>

It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you. 

When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained. 

“I’m on my way, please let me in.” 

You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications. 

Changkyun, all from him.

Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written. 

You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest.  None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.

But now…

Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months. 

Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light  neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily. 

And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need. 

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.  

“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.” 

You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”

His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.” 

He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer. 

“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return. 

“I love you too, Changkyun.” 

His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.” 

He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,” 

Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall. 

“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.

Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.

[luvlyrv]

No More Secrets | Joy x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Request: Can I please request where the reader is a single parent who is also dating sooyoung. Sooyoung doesn’t know that the reader has a kid, since reader has been hiding them because she felt like sooyoung would shame her or wouldn’t want to date her anymore. Sooyoung accidentally see’s the readers kid and instead of being angry, she just wants to be part of the family. Thank youu!

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: First request I've ever done! Thank you for sending this in, I hope it's what you wanted. Also hhh you'll probably notice but I decided to keep the child vague? Maybe you have a dream baby that you wanna parent idk, so I don't have a name or gender for them, hope you don't mind.

Date: 1/23/21

Over the past few years you've thrown yourself into your work. It was hard trying to provide for the needs of both you and your child at the same time, both in the physical and emotional sense. Whether or not you would be able to pay the bills was always a worry, and as you continued increasing your time at work you began to fret about if you were there for your kid at the same time.

The biggest struggle overall was toiling through those worries by yourself. As much as you tried to distract and provide for your family by working more and more overtime shifts, you couldn't ignore the growing emptiness in your heart and bed any further. Sure, you could reach out to friends and family to ask for help and be your support group, but they could never be what you desired right now. Right now you wished that someone was there holding you. That someone told you things would be okay and could love you in a romantic sense. Someone to completely swipe you off your feet and make your worries melt away.

Unfortunately it's been proven to you over and over again that it's hard to find a date. Very few people were your type, and from those people you weren't their type for the most part. Even if you matched you found yourself so busy working and taking care of your child that you were on a tight schedule, and your matches just never seemed to want to work with someone inflexible.

One day though, it felt like an absolute miracle when you got a match. A woman named Park Sooyoung had appeared on your feed. You read through her short biography, learning how she loves to sing and is an aspiring model and dog mom. Staring at her pictures you felt like she was out of your league. You couldn't tell what was worse, swiping no and missing out on a possible opportunity or swiping yes when you knew she was 100% out of your league and would likely reject you instantly.

It was a welcome surprise when you finally swiped yes, only to see a match screen pop up instantly on your phone. Soon after that the both of you began talking to each other. Your thumbs nervously tapping away at your phone as the both of you said your hellos and started giving more detailed introductions. The tightness in your chest eased up as every text sent by Sooyoung was charming you, all of them being disarming and funny to you.

Within the next couple of days you felt like you were glued to your phone. Without meaning to your hands would find its way cross the table or to your pocket just to pull out your phone and look for notifications from Sooyoung. Luckily for you it always felt like her name was on your screen with her patiently waiting for a text back.

Soon enough she asked for a coffee date. You obliged to her offer but told her your schedule, already profusely apologizing as you expected it to be difficult for her to work with. Sooyoung just said not to worry about it and set out a date that would be convenient for the both of you.

Every day after that was spent living in anticipation. You wondered about the sound of her voice and if things would be as easy and comfortable in real life as it was over text. As you dropped off your child at your friend's place to be watched over the evening your heart swelled even more. You really were going to meet Sooyoung.

*

*

You enter the coffee shop nervously, your eyes scanning the entire shop trying to look for a familiar face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a tall figure gracefully sitting in a booth. Focusing on her face, she looked exactly like the woman you matched with. A smile fell on your face as you thanked the heavens that at least you weren't catfished. You make your way over to her booth and speak out.

"Hey, Sooyoung?" The woman looks up and smiles instantly looking at you.

"Hey! Really good to meet you, Y/N."

"Sorry, did I keep you waiting? How about I treat you coffee?" Sooyoung just shook her head at your offer.

"No no, I'll do the treating this time. Maybe on our next date?" She suggested casually. The smile on your face grew a little bit wider at the idea of a second date. The two of you go up to the counter and make your orders. When they were complete you both went back to your booth and sat down to talk.

The two of you casually talked while sipping away at your drinks. You were really happy, because you couldn't remember the last time your heart fluttered this much. You were thankful that spending time with your date felt so natural and comfortable. Hopefully Sooyoung would be thinking the same thing too.

*

*

It wasn't supposed to go like this. You were hoping that maybe by the second or third date you could bring up the fact that you're a mother. Every single date though you'd push back that conversation more. The two of you would be having so much fun together you didn't want to turn the atmosphere serious so suddenly. Either that or your anxieties and fears made their way back into your heart.

Yet here you were, already on your fifth date with Sooyoung's presence in your life becoming more and more familiar. The guilt of not telling her was silently eating away at you. Despite that, your fears still held your tongue.

After all, meeting someone like Sooyoung felt like a one in a million chance for you. If she broke it off with you now, you'd feel devastated from the loss. Not only that, but as much as you liked Sooyoung you weren't sure if your child was reader for an unfamiliar adult figure to enter their life. What if Sooyoung was secretly dangerous? You could be putting your child in harms way.

So as much as it hurt you to feel like you were breaking Sooyoung's trust, you had to protect your family first. For now, you'll just continue trying to gauge how good Sooyoung is with children and hope she isn't offended by how long it's taking you to tell her such pertinent information. You sigh while looking at the food sitting in front of you.

"Are you not hungry after all?" Sooyoung asks. You look up with a bit of a surprised face, just being snapped out of your train of thought.

"Oh sorry, I was just thinking." You smile a bit, trying to ease any of Sooyoung's possible worries. You start to take some small bites of your dinner. Sooyoung just quirks her eyebrows a bit at the sight. She wondered what could possibly be thinking about. Things were awkward for a little bit after that, but the rest of dinner went smoothly. The small amount of tension dissipated and the two of you were able to converse and share laughs as the night went on.

When dinner was finished Sooyoung offered to take you home. Although you were a bit worried at first, you decided to take her offer. You enjoyed the car ride as you watched the dark night sky pass by while continuing to chat idly with Sooyoung. She drops you off without a hitch as you thank her.

*

*

It's now been a couple months since you've first met Sooyoung, and you're life has been better ever since. Although trying to manage the many different parts of your life all at once and by yourself was hard, you knew that Sooyoung would always be there to listen to your worries. Or at least the worries you could talk about without talking about your family.

You were sitting on the couch with your child on your lap, snuggling into you. You couldn't help but to be filled with warmth as you saw how happy and excited they looked while watching the movie on TV. For the past couple of weeks they were begging to watch the movie with you, so finally you had set the time to have a movie night with them. On the table were snacks scattered across it as well as your phone. You noticed your phone light up from a notification. You leaned over just a little bit to reach it and check.

i missed you! i have some takeout and im coming over~

It was a text from Sooyoung. You stared at your phone in shock. Your mind was torn. On one hand you loved the spontaneity of it all and the seemingly romantic gesture. On another hand you hated the spontaneity of it all and worried about Sooyoung finally entering your house only to see that you've been taking care of a kid the entire time. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise though.

You decided to suck it up and meet your fate tonight. You'd welcome Sooyoung to your home and see how things go from there.

alright, see you soon!

You let out the breath you were holding in as you squeeze your eyes in frustration. Your child looked up at you with a worrying look.

"Is something wrong, mommy?" They ask innocently. You shake your head and try to give a reassuring smile. You squeeze their arm a bit.

"Nothing is wrong, someone is going to come over later though so don't be scared from the doorbell." You answer. Your child just nods their head and looks back at the TV, eating some of the popcorn you had made earlier.

Around twenty minutes pass before you finally hear the ringing of your door bell. You gently pick your child off of your lap and onto the couch as you get up to answer. You took in a few deep breathes to try and ready yourself. While reaching out to unlock and turn the doorknob, you realize your hand was shaking despite your efforts.

You open the door and try to give Sooyoung a smile, but you reckon that your worry was obvious as her face quickly had a concerned look.

"Hey Y/N!" Sooyoung says with a smile, with it fading a little as her eyebrows became upturned. "Uhm, are you not happy to see me…?" You become apologetic as you frantically responded.

"Of course I'm happy to see you! It's just that… uhm." You open the door a bit further for Sooyoung and allow her to enter the house. You look at your kid sitting on the couch now staring at Sooyoung rather than watching the movie.

"K/N, this is Sooyoung! A friend of mommy's." You bite your lip after introducing her. You felt bad as it you felt like you were dumping news onto both your date and your own child. You watch as Sooyoung went over to your table and put the takeout down. Things were silent except for the pounding in your chest. You prepared your mind and heart for the worst, expecting Sooyoung to politely say goodbye and leave.

Then, Sooyoung put on a grand smile and excited sat down next to your kid.

"I'm so excited to meet you! Is it okay if I watch this movie with you?" Sooyoung asks, but instead of answering the question your child decided to blurt out their thoughts instead.

"You're really really really pretty." They said with a face mixed with surprise and admiration. Sooyoung gives out a laugh, finding the bluntness of your child hilarious and adorable.

The feeling in your chest began to ease up as you watched the sight. You were both surprised and happy with the way things were looking, but you'd definitely have to have a conversation with Sooyoung afterwards. For now though, it seemed like the three of you could eat take out and enjoy some snacks while watching the rest of a kid's movie.

The movie eventually came to an end though. Your child was yawning and complaining about being tired so you made them go brush their teeth. After they were done you picked them up and gently laid them in bed, kissing their forehead and saying goodnight. When you closed the door to their room, you went back to the living room where Sooyoung was patiently sitting.

"I guess we have some things we should talk about, right?" You gave a little fake laugh after asking the rhetorical question. You walked towards the couch and sat down a couple feet away from Sooyoung.

"So…" She began talking, at first looking at the floor but then into your eyes. Her eyes seemed to be filled with hurt. "Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered. Already you were feeling horrible. You reached your hand out to clasp hers and she let you.

"I'm so sorry. I really am Sooyoung. I was just worried about whether or not you would like kids, let alone start being a part of one's life. I just… I needed more time to gauge that. I was really meaning to tell you though, I promise." You tried to explain to her. Sooyoung leaned forward to you and hugged you.

"Hey hey, don't worry. I absolutely adore K/N already." She backed out of the hug but was still close to you. She tucked away a stray hair as she continued talking with you. "I'll take care of the both of you, okay? I want to do that for you both." She gives you a reassuring smile. You lean in and give her a quick kiss on the lips.

"I'm sorry. No more secrets from me." You say, happy that it now felt like nothing was in between you and your relationship with Sooyoung anymore.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

a poem for small things

by Admin 1 & 2

The time has come, the first proper post for this segment we’ve settled on calling a poem for small things, a nod toward BWL and its Korean title. Like we said in our call for submission post, this is supposed to be something like a place full of positivity for vminnies (and perhaps the occasional namjinist) where you (and us) can share whatever we’d like in connection to vmin, both as vmin and as Jimin and Tae the individuals, and have something to raise our mood and also strengthen our vminnie confidence. We’ve gotten several wonderful submissions and quickly realized that for this first post the theme is mostly how I became a vminnie, even if three submissions talk more about vmin moments they enjoy instead.

I think it’s a really interesting theme, especially since everyone’s story is different, and everyone seems to find something else about vmin that captured their attention and hearts so sharing these memories and experiences is a great way to start off this segment. We’ve said it many times before, though I don’t think you can say it enough times, but this bond that Jimin and Tae share is truly special and so one of a kind, it’s wonderful to see how we all relate to and resonate with it in our own way and find something in it that makes us fall in love with their loves, regardless if we see it as platonic or romantic love. Love is love after all. 95z is love.

For the order of these submissions, we’ll simply go in the order in which we’ve received them. Most of them came from anons, which is more than okay. We’ve also opened the possibility of submitting posts for those who would like to submit wordier posts/asks, should we do another edition of this. It all depends on how much you’ll enjoy it and if you’ll come through with more submissions that could be gathered for future posts.

Anyway, enough talking from our side, let’s dive into these submissions below the cut, shall we? Like we said in the original post (and demonstrated in the preview post), we’ll add some of our commentary and observations along the way, too.

From anon: This is going to be long winded story but Vmin is like a Serendipity to me. I've heard of BTS mainly from my hubby when he complains that times sq is packed because of BTS (when they’re in town and doing their rounds of morning shows). I knew they were very popular but it was a great surprise that i discovered them after watching ILand during lockdown. Their songs were great and i started playing their classics like Fire, DNA Fake Love etc. Then they did an appearance in the show...

I love how you heard about BTS because of your husband and Time Square being packed, this is honestly the most original and unique version of how I’ve come across BTS I’ve read over the years. Amazing!

I was drawn to Taehyung's beauty during their appearance in Iland. And my first Vmin ? moment was when Tae commented about being handsome and attractive are 2 things and being attractive weighs more - along those lines... then JM made a comment that its unfair that he's both and Tae was like Im talking about you... I went like ok he thinks JM is attractive- theyre good friends.... then Jimin did the FakeLove choreo and the camera focused on Tae and he had this wide smile...The Iland Tae/Jimin clips made me do a double take but I dismissed it since it was just only a few seconds worth of screen time but still...

I-Land vmin was really something else in both episodes. 

Fun fact: I-Land was the first Korean survival show I’ve ever watched, mostly because it had something to do with BH and since it was streamed online with subs in real time. Unfortunately, my faves—Daniel and Taki—didn’t make it into ENHYPEN, though I’m happy that Taki will be in a future Japanese BH group.

But, going back to vmin, that moment with Jimin dancing FAKE LOVE and Tae looking at him with that boxy smile as though Jimin hung the stars in the sky? I melted, even if it was just one of those brief moments, yet still it’s so cute! And it was all over sns being shared by vminnies and non-vminnies alike. What a great time that was.

Then VMAs Dynamite perf happened- both Vmin looking good. I saw a lot of their promos especially the Jimmy Fallon interviews... and I noticed in hindsight how JF was so careful when referring to Jimin ... Since Tae was my first bias, I searched YT for Tae related content eventually saw in my YT feed Vmin moments. Theres a lot of Vmin content in YT or maybe the T*ek*ok ones didnt really register as extraordinary to me. But defo the Vmin moments were extraordinary to me,,,the BV4 sleeping together, kitchen role play & BV3 JM excited to see Tae and them holding hands and then Tae crying and then Tae's busking with Jimin cheering him on were all amazing to see. Up to this day this specific YT vid stood out to me first 

I actually went to check what video this is, and also looked at the comments where my favorite was this one: The staff member went straight to Jimin to tell him V was crying. That's all you need to know. They’re not wrong with that one, are they? That is pretty telling. BV3 vmin were a work of wonder, truly. Jimin watching Tae sing that Sam Smith song during the dinner in the sky looking all soft and endlessly fond?

Jimin encouraging Tae to busk and gently petting his hair was just such a pure moment and showed how much Jimin appreciates Tae and the talent he has, how in moments when Tae might brush aside wanting to do something, is a little hesitant and unsure, Jimin will stand up for him and give him strength/encouragement, which reminds me of Tae’s vlive in April 2020 and the fact that Jimin had told him that he wants to be his source of strength. Beautiful. And it shows that it wasn’t just pretty yet empty words, but something he truly meant. They both do.

Then i came across vid trans of Friends & cried first time hearing it especially when it got to the part "One day when the cheer dies down, stay hey.." It felt raw and honest to me. Then there's MOT:E concert and that part in Dynamite where they bumped their heads seemed bizaare to me - i was like were they fighting? because JM looked really fierce(or maybe emotional) then i saw the close up. i couldnt remember the exact moment I became a Vminie but it made quarantine easier...

This, I’ve noticed, seems to be a recurring theme among quarantine ARMY and vminnies, the fact that becoming ARMY and vminnies made it easier, and it fits with what we’ve been saying about BTS for years: they will find you when you’ll need them most. And in these trying and uncertain times, it’s certainly proven true once again.

Thank you of much for your submission and sharing your story with us, and I’m glad they could make quarantine a little easier for you.

From anon: I've been following BTS on and off since BST, but only really consider myself a true fan late 2019. I can't recall having a bias at first, but I was captivated by Jimin's everything when I binge-watched all their content. I must admit, my first OTP is T*e/k*ok, where I fell down the route of considering Jimin 'an interfering 3rd party' in their relationship, and it shamed me. Since then I've been cycling through Jimin ships, namely yo*n/m*n, j*n/m*n, m*ni/m*ni, and I even thought that j*/k*ok was real at some point. Strangely, Vmin never struck me as something extraordinary. I don't want to blame anyone, but Vmin caught my eye after I watched official BTS content without filter (presumed bias/judgement) all in their glory. I realized that while other ships may go up-and-down as in one day there's a frenzy and another day quiet af, Vmin has been and is still going constant. That's what makes me love Vmin, and for the first time in my fandom life, I have no qualms about whether they are real or not. Their bond, whatever it is, is already precious and something to be cherished forever. Thank you for providing us vminies a special corner to speak up about our experience 💜

You’re very welcome! I hope you’ll like how this turned out as well. Thank you for sharing your story with us and personally I find it fascinating how, despite Jimin being the one who captivated you most at first, you still fell into the “he’s an interference for my ship” trap that’s quite popular with that particular ship. I’m glad though that that never ruined your love for Jimin. It’s also really interesting for me how you went through different Jimin ships yet it took you the longest time to notice vmin. I feel like, because vmin and vminnies are more “low key” than the other bigger and louder ships, as well as Tae and Jimin simply being quieter in their interactions (not always but you get the point) as compared to, for example, Jimin’s interactions with Hobi, Jungkook, or even Namjoon, it takes people a while to really notice them.

This is my favorite part of what you wrote, and I think it’s a great way to describe vmin in general and what makes them different from other ships in the grand scheme of things: I realized that while other ships may go up-and-down as in one day there's a frenzy and another day quiet af, Vmin has been and is still going constant.

From vminot7: So i fell into BTS hole after watching blood sweat and tears mv casually on youtube. Jimin immediately stole my attention with his unique voice, graceful moves and handsome features even though i didn’t know their names at that time. I watched more MVs and jimin continued to hold my attention but i was also extremely drawn to taehyung's voice and facial expressions. So i started looking for more content such as RUN BTS and other compilations and realized my love for all 7 of them. I also noticed how jimin always had a soft spot for taehyung and was curious about their dynamics. I started looking at more of vmin content and i was really surprised to see how in the early days they were nowhere near as soft with each other as they are now. I think they have a unique bond and i have never come across anything quite similar. Now vmin are both my biases and my bias wrecker is hoseok.

I admire jimin for being a hardworking, passionate perfectionist but also a caring soul who is always ready to offer love and comfort to people in need. I love taehyung for how he looks at the world in his unique ways and how he has a childlike awe for things and how he is so passionate over the things he loves. The thing i love about vmin together is how they are so different yet work so hard on their relationship when it would be easier to just not try that hard.

Ah, another mention of the queen that is Blood, Sweat and Tears. The MV truly is such a masterpiece so I’m not surprised that it caught your attention, and especially Jimin since he was…something else in that MV, or like Tae said, his eyes were temptation (this boy, I swear). Since you mentioned how in the first years they were nowhere near as soft with each other as they are now, I think watching their dynamic and relationship change and evolve over time showcases the one thing I think a lot of people (as well as movies and TV shows) forget or gloss over, despite it being so incredibly important: in order to make a relationship of any kind work, especially in order for it to grow as deep and strong as the one between all members and especially vmin, you need to put in the emotional work to make that happen. You have to make an effort, have to learn to understand the other person and teach them to understand you as well, learn to appreciate and love their little quirks and how to accept others. And it’s so clear that that’s what vmin did, continue to do, and it more than paid off in the long run. I’m glad you highlighted that in general but also as something you love about them.

While the overall bond between the members is a class of its own, I think especially what vmin have achieved is a whole masterclass in relationships and fostering strong ones, in and of itself. There is a lot I think we can learn from them and I’m so happy that people recognize how special they are.

Thank you so much for your submission!

From anon: There’s this small moments in Dear Class of 2020 that i just adore! I’ve watched it at least 20 times this past month

It starts with “Spring Day”- tae and jimin laugh and look at each other and it’s just so sweet!

Also, maybe it’s my delusional mind but after tae’s and jin’s small and adorable moment- it seemed that jimin did the same with junkook right after maybe out of i duuno if jealousy but like “pay attention to me too” kinda way- dont know really and maybe it’s me being extra🤷🏻‍♀️

I agree partially, in that Jimin watched Tae’s and Seokjin’s adorable moment, obviously must’ve thought of it as cute just like we did, and thought he could do the same with JK. I don’t think it had anything to do with jealousy, especially if we work off of the idea that vmin are a thing, but also because it’s a performance and these things primarily serve the purpose of being cute and entertaining use, in other words, it’s fanservice (which isn’t the evil word some portray it as). Also, within that same performance, Tae and Jimin actually sang some of the lyrics toward each other, therefore they, too, had a cute moment they shared with big smiles and everything, just like you mentioned.

But we’ve gotten to see much more of Tae’s friendship with Seokjin in 2020, and especially the second half, so it was really sweet to see them interact during that song. Their friendship and dynamic is really a beautiful one, just like JKs bond with Seokjin, which I feel we’ve also gotten to see more of in recent months. Part of me (and that part can very well be wrong) feels that perhaps once the members caught on to Seokjin feeling the way he said he did/does, they decided to give him an extra dose of love and affection, off camera but also on where we can see it. That isn’t to say that they didn’t show him any of that before, but maybe they increased the intensity a little, a reminder that Seokjin truly is loved, that he deserves all of this, that it’s just his imposter syndrome (or at least what sounds like it) lying to him.

I’m still so touched and moved by the fact that he trusted us enough to share his feelings with us, to gift us Abyss and how it came to be, and that Bang PD was on his side and coaxed him into pouring his feelings into music, even if it would be “bad”, that the fear of it potentially being “bad” shouldn’t hold him back (and Namjoon helping in even if just a tiny bit with the lyrics). It was one of those times where I feel like we were all reminded that regardless of our opinions of BH and their doings, the members are surrounded by kind people who have their best interest in mind. After all what’s good for Bangtan is also good for the company, a win-win for everyone.

…wow, okay, I kind of went off on a tangent, I’m sorry…

Either way , then we have “Mikrokosmos” where we have a sweet moment at their part and towards the end where they switch mic and hear each other

I love this performance overall and especially “spring day”- jin’s and j-hope’s lovely voices and of course tae’s!! This song fits them so well and all the members of course

Well this is my rent , i love your blog and always wait for another post! Also i love the new idea and look forward to it!

Thank you so much for your submission and for bringing up their Dear Class 2020 performance. It was a truly magical one, and after reading this the first time, I did go and watch it again. To this day I’d still very much like to know how and when and why the mic switch between vmin happened, and I kind of hope that we might get a Bangtan B*mb or EPISODE about this eventually and it might shine some light on that question. Overall it was one of my favorite performances on 2020.

From Sky: While I enjoy cute, physical moments with VMIN, I really do value how emotionally attached they are to each other. For example (I don’t know if it fits as vmin moment but), I love how Jimin asked V to take the Promise cover photo, and how he ended up putting V’s name for credits on the cover. (Special Thanks to V, Best Photographer) This really shows a lot. Coz he can easily choose any Bighit photographer to take it. He could have chosen JK because we know how he takes good pics and vids too (and also apparently alot of people say that vmin had a falling out and that Jimin and JK were much more closer, lol). Or he could’ve asked Suga too bec he’s into cameras too. But he didn’t. He chose V, and chose to shout it out to the world how thankful he is for V’s help. RM co-wrote Promise, and maybe had offered more help in this project, but he didn’t put it in the cover. I’m not saying Jimin is ungrateful for not crediting RM in the cover. The difference is that he and RM had a vlive regarding the making of this song, a lot of people already know RM’s participation, he was officially credited as co-writer and Jimin really showed how thankful he is to RM. But no one knows of V’s participation (except for a snippet in that Run ep), so Jimin felt the need to tell it to everyone. I’m sure it’s not only the photos, I think he wanted to acknowledge how V helped him through the process, whether directly or indirectly. Also, remember this is Jimin’s first non-album solo single. By putting V’s name in it, he is sharing this very special song with his soulmate. How endearing it is! V also included Jimin in his first full English song. He used the two bears given by Jimin as Winter Bear’s cover photo and he included the photo Jimin took (sleeping V in the plane) in the MV. Like, seriously, they are trying to consciously imprint each other in their life’s milestones, openly or subtly. I’m crying. 😭

This was lovely, and yes, Jimin could’ve asked whoever to take those pictures, could’ve chosen any other ones, and yet he wanted Tae to be the one to take them, wanted those specific ones as covers. It’s very sweet and creates this subtle connection between Jimin, the song, and Tae. Sure, it isn’t the first time a picture Tae took is the cover for a SoundCloud song (the picture of JK on the 2U cover was also taken by Tae if I remember correctly), but it’s the fact that Promise is Jimin’s first non-BTS song, his first solo release, that makes it that much more special. Even more so when you think about how meaningful that song is to Jimin, and by having Tae as cover picture photographer, he’s in a way forever attached memory wise to that song as well, right?

The same also goes with Winter Bear and the two ceramic bears. Remember how excited Tae looked when I kinda spoiled that gift being a thing happening in an upcoming RUN episode during Jimin’s vlive during the summer 2019? Adorable. It’s also curious how though the title is singular—winter bear not winter bears—there’s two ceramic bears. One for Tae, one for Jimin? Maybe, or maybe I’m reading too much into it. Either way, it’s really cute, and it was a very thoughtful gift, even more when we think about just how much Jimin loves that song.

From anon: Love this idea it's super cute!! 1st thing that came to my mind is a rather simple moment, jimin bopping taehyung's nose and making a lil game out of it

Taehyung asking for more and that dazed smile 🥺 he had the same expression in that concert when jimin placed his face just above him, tae's smile afterward... it was so pure u could almost read "love" in his eyes lol

What a lovely note to end this post at, thank you for that. I don’t know what got into them during that photoshoot for Season’s Greetings 2020 but this was so disarmingly adorable. I remember when that moment appeared all over every sns and everyone just melted, myself included. Their smiles, the cute clothes, Tae’s head on Jimin’s chest, the softness and innocence of it, just all of it. It truly was so pure and like this sweet visualization of ‘love’.

And with that, we’ve reached the end. Did you like this? I had a great time reading your submissions and adding my little comments to them. If you’d like for us to continue this, same rules as last time, send in a submission marked with “VMC” and once we’ll have enough of them gathered, we’ll do this again, if you’re interested in more, that is. Send in whatever positive vmin you have, a thought, a moment, a memory, whatever you’d like.

Thank you once again to everyone who participated! :)

[bearplush]

thoughts

ot7 tracks: this part of the album is kind of like an ot7 mini and honestly without the solo tracks im not totallyyyy sure how satisfied i’d be with this album but with all of the tracks together it definitely works

intro: that switch up :o

locked inside a door: i kind of wish the first line was the chorus if that makes sense (edit: i have since changed my mind about this). i don’t fully know what to make of this song yet except that i really like it, it’s a really strong b-side and unique while still being very recognizably dreamcatcher

maison: as i said before this is SOO catchy. i think the chorus will be stuck in my head for a while, either that or the “la maison, la la la maison” part (btw i especially liked the scream-esque vocal effects in that part). the video was just...not really my thing tbh but that’s fine, sometimes it just comes down to personal preference and this one didn’t really match mine is all. with the outfits and choreo though i’m SO excited for the stages. once i finally saw the lyrics i liked it even more -- it’s a really interesting topic for them to address (edit: 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃), and how amazing would it be if this could be the track that gets them more gp recognition or (gasp) their first win??

starlight: this song 🤝 star by loona (complimentary)

together: i actually really like this one, it’s really fun and while idk how often i would search it up specifically, i definitely won’t skip it when it comes on

always: balladcatcher always sounds good, but i have to be honest i’ve mostly been skipping this so far to get to the solos lol, so i’ll have to form my real opinion later 😅

skit: not a skit lol but it sounds nice and i think it works well as a transition into the solo tracks

solo tracks: overall each member’s track really reflects their own personal style and i’m so happy for them that dcc gave them this opportunity. honestly i was a little skeptical cause i tend not to like solo/unit songs as much as full group songs for most groups, but i should have known i would like these bc honestly dc isn’t like most groups for me in that i equally love every single member’s voice and style. anyway i hope this means they’ll participate more in future albums too 👀

cherry (real miracle): just the fact that she wrote this about cherry means i automatically have to love it. like alldaylong, this song just screams jiu, it’s so bright and fun and i can see myself listening to it a lot as the weather gets warmer

no dot: i know this was a fan favorite from the highlight medley but i wasn’t sure about it but wowow was i proven wrong because this is SO good and on par with lots of groups’ title tracks imo

entrancing: an unexpected favorite!! not that i don’t love siyeon’s voice but the clip from the highlight medley and the fact that it’s a ballad made me think i wouldn’t be super into this but omg it’s so good???? obviously siyeon’s vocals are amazing but i also love the instrumental

winter: i know it’s called winter but i’m already picturing myself lazing around to this song on a hot summer afternoon. handong’s voice is angelic and really fits the slightly lofi vibes of the instrumental. the chinese outro was such a nice touch <3

for: omg another unexpected favorite!! this one grew on me throughout the day yesterday and now i love it. i especially love the piano

beauty full: i will never not like pop punk. someone on reddit said dami joe armstrong and as someone whose first hard-saved-for album as a teen was american idiot, they were absolutely right and i’m HERE for it (although i’ll also accept dami lavigne as another and potentially more accurate possibility). probably my favorite of the solos but it’s still early!

playground: 💕💞💖💗💘💗💕💞💓💖 i’m clearly running out of things to say lol but if it’s not too bold to say i get iu vibes from this?? and again with the great piano! i loved all the piano in this album in general actually

it could be recency bias but overall i’m really happy with this album and despite the wintery vibe of some tracks i’m really looking forward to listening to it this spring and summer! standout tracks for me are locked inside a door, maison, together, no dot, entrancing, for, beauty full, playground

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Companions React to Sole Getting Pregnant/Getting Them Pregnant

Cait:

"What the hell did we do?"

To say she is at very least disgruntled would be a understatement. In reality, even if she wasn't clean before, she sure would get that way as quickly as she could manage. Terrible nightmares of her awful childhood would terrorize the woman to point of her breaking down a lot. However she knows that she will be the furthest thing from what her mum and da were and within time, she'll begin to warm up to the idea of having a baby. Subconsciously she sees it as a chance to right was has been wronged with her family. The only downside she begins to see is that she would be not at all fit to smash heads in.

Curie:

"Im so excited!"

She wasn't quite sure that such a thing was possible but she'd be a liar if she said she wasn't thrilled to see how it would progress. Admittedly the gravity of the situation wouldn't be felt until she began to swell, then she'd have to take a moment to process the magnitude. Luckily she is probably the most equipped to care for an infant, only second to codsworth.

Danse:

"Seriously? This...this is wow."

If it was pre blind betrayal he'd practically spin you around before rushing you straight to Captain Cade. It wasn't such a hefty duty like it was in other divisions of the BoS, but procreation was still highly encouraged. It was so much more than that to Danse though, he really loves you and the thought of having a little mini mix of you and him running around made him feel joy he thought was impossible to feel.

However if it's post blind betrayal the ex-paladin's amber eyes would be as big as saucers. He didn't think he would be able to impregnate you considering he didn't really think he was "human" enough. Of course it shocked the hell out of him, his anxiety would worsen to the point of his hands shaking. Not for any other reason other than he was terrified that the baby wouldn't turn out okay, being a mix like that? It was a lot to wrap his mind around. Regardless of his feelings, they eventually settle down and he can't help but pull you into perhaps a too tight hug. So long as the baby and you are okay in the end he's still happy.

Deacon:

"Hey that's not funny, you can't pull a me on me."

He honestly thought you were dead ass lying to him for the majority of the time, occasionally playing along when you gave him a particularly cold glare. Therefore whenever you actually started showing, his world came crashing down and pure horror flooded his veins. When you asked what was wrong and he revealed his beliefs he wasn't really surprised when you smacked him. Boy was he going to make it up to you though.

Gage:

"I beg your pardon?"

It was right about then that gage wished he had drank or maybe accidentally got second hand jet fumes, anything to excuse him hallucinating. No way. He's a bit more responsible than you'd give him credit for though, because once the shock settled he took you into his lap and looked you in the eyes before surprising even you as he devised some elaborate plan that would allow you to remain in power while keeping the baby a secret. Power armor was about to be your best friend. He'd personally murder everyone if they dare try to hurt his baby.

Hancock:

"You are just full of surprises aren't you?"

Much like a post blind betrayal Danse, he didn't think he'd be able to "supply" because of what he is. However unlike the synth he wouldn't have an absolute internal melt down. Instead he would actually be pretty damn content, suggesting making an "improved" goodneighbor for the little one. It probably wouldn't be much of a change but it surely would beat living in a settlement with limited power and settlers that may have a vendetta against his kind.

Macready:

"Again? I'm just kidding, I've got you. Luckily I'm a seasoned veteran."

He may be a little spooked but he won't show it. If anything he mainly fears breaking the news to a newly adjusted duncan. Aside that he is actually pretty damn excited. This was just the ribbon tying your little family together and he was living for it.

Maxson:

"...*cue the drink glass shattering*...Really? Well...um, woah."

The young elder would definitely be pleased with the news. Surprised, scared as hell, but definitely happy. After skirting the shattered glass he'd haul you up into his arms, embracing you and grinning like an idiot. Certainly a much better look on the usually gloomy looking man. He wasn't oblivious to the responsibility that now rests on both of your shoulders, and he may or may not become the slightest bit paranoid and make you take a leave from combat until further notice, but he was ready to step up to the challenge with you by his side. Plus he'd be super proud, honored to have you.

Old Longfellow:

"How the fuck..?"

Whenever you broke the news to him he was in disbelief. He was far too old, or so he thought at least. The undeniable evidence was enough to make him a believer though. Once it was proven to him, he practically fell to his knees. The very first time you've seen tears come to his eyes was that night. For once Longfellow believed that there was some kind of higher being that for once wasn't screwing him over, instead giving him back what was so wrongfully stolen. He'd be a changed man from there on, but in the best of ways.

Piper:

"Oh shit."

Her first instinct was of course to scream into a pillow. Afterwards when she regained her composure, she told you in quite possibly the most elaborate, stalling way she could manage. Once the news was out, she'd have a hard time deciding wether or not to skip town with her sister and you. After all she didn't quite think it was as safe in diamond city as others did, and having a baby was the final straw.

Preston:

"General, I mean, (y/n)..we're..we're going to be a family?"

He was so happy when you told him. His beautiful chocolate eyes widening before squinting from the absolute force of his ecstatic smile. He wasted no time from there to grab you in a hug, only to drop down to his knees and put his head against your soon to swell mid section. It was a dream come true to him, he knew it would be scary, but it would all be worth it.

X6-88:

"Interesting."

At first he would seem unfazed, his usual stone exterior showing. However within seconds he broke down, taking off his shades before grabbing you, putting his head in your shoulder and apologizing, rejoicing and flipping out all in one huge burst of emotion. Much like danse and Hancock, he didn't think it was possible.

[bigshort2015]

other assorted thoughts on the trailer:

not to keep tomposting but his hair looks different ? longer maybe. it might be matty macs balding idk

SHIVS BACK OUR GIRLY IS BACK SHES SCHEMING LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER BASTARD…..the shot of her spitting in to logan’s (?) book gave me chills. i was honestly worried that after s2 they were going to sideline her more since she tried for succession and “lost.” in retrospect that was kind of stupid, since kendall still remained central even after s1. (though tbh i kind of thought that was just his protag plot armor. glad to be proven wrong! succession stays blessing us shiv simps)

no gerri in trailer which makes me sort of sad??

roman doesnt seem to have the outsized role that i thought he would, kind of disappointing cuz i hyped myself up for that, but i’m honestly just excited to see how he fits in

I LOVED THE JESS CONTENT…long live jess

ok i KNOW this was such a long shot but im sad that there doesnt seem to be any rhea. rip shiv/rhea, you will live on in the memory of me and the other 3 gay girls who cared about you!

obligatory “jeremy strong and brian cox did good acting :-)” acknowledgement. wheres stewy tho ⁉️

[mileycyprus-hill]

Chpt 1, Chpt 2, Chpt 3, Chpt 4, Chpt 5

Also can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218607/chapters/58951003

Thank you to @oodanijadeoo​ for beta-reading this chapter and giving such great, constructive feedback! 

Chapter 6

You leave the apartment above Dr. Birner’s office with reluctance, thinking back to that brief period you were recuperating. You were in a peaceful limbo. No worries, no anxious thoughts of the future. For one week, you lied there with your infant son, living in the moment. You basked in his cherubic glory and thought of nothing else. For all you knew, there was nothing beyond those four walls. Just you and Isaiah.

And it was perfect.

You remember feeling Arthur’s eyes on you. He’d visit once a day at the apartment and spend a few nights on the floor of your room, despite your small protests. While holding Isaiah in his arms after his feeding, you’d catch that particular look Arthur gave you. It was a look of uncertainty; a question begging to be asked.

That question tortures you both.

He didn’t want to ask it and you didn’t want to hear it, but you both knew it had to be said.

Now, you finally have the strength to walk and ride in the jostling wagon without pain. The reality of your situation soon returns as you lie in the wagon. Leaning back on the mattress that comfortably lines the bed of the wagon, you look over to Susan who sits by your side. She holds your infant son in the swaddle of a soft wool blanket, gently caressing his cheek with her index finger.

It’s not often you get to see Susan grow soft like this. Her life has been ridden hard and rough and it often shows in her moods. One can hardly blame her. She’s proven she’s come out of it stronger and more alive than any other woman on earth.

You envy her strength.

Swaying with the rolling wagon wheels on the trail, you replay the conversations in your head: Dutch, Arthur, Dr. Birner. All of them asking for a decision. All of them telling you what’s best.

Can any decision be the right decision? You wonder.

.…

Arthur has become an enigma to you in these passing days, you realize. He often gives Isaiah attention and offers help whenever he can. But something deep down inside you gives you this cynical notion that he’s saving himself up. That he’s only doing these things and acting paternal to get you to trust him.

He’s going to have to play his cards soon, and he needs an ace.

You try to shake these thoughts away, but they soon return whenever Dutch checks on you both on numerous occasions.

“Has a decision been made between you two?” He would ask.

His check-ins are a now weekly occurrence. So often that you now avoid crossing his path so he won’t have a chance to bring it up.

You hope you could reply ‘no’ long enough that he’d soon give up. You’re too fearful to say what you truly want. And you know Dutch is not one to forget or give up.

But you truly hope this time he would.

However, you forget the one person Dutch could still corner and persuade to change this whole situation.

Arthur.

…

It’s three months to the day of Isaiah’s birth and you worry if you can finally breathe. You hope to continue with the routine of a child in the gang now that it’s been long enough; allow the members of the gang to grow attached. Little Isaiah grows stronger and more lovable each day. Even John has taken a liking to him. He approaches you and Isaiah sitting underneath a shady lean-to. You sit cross-legged on the blanket while supporting Isaiah in your hands. His little back lays on your forearms, with his soft head resting in your palms. The ruffled hem of his crisp, white baby gown cascades down your arm. The sun was so warm before you retreated to the shade. Through the light cotton, you can still feel a little sweat on his back from the desert heat.

“Can I hold him?” John asks meekly. He slowly drops to his knees before you and watches Isaiah curiously.

Looking up at John, you reply, “Sure. Make sure to support his neck, and watch his head.”

You adjust your baby in your arms and carefully transfer him to John, who fearfully holds him like holding a wounded animal. John keeps an elbow awkwardly high to support Isaiah’s head and you hold back a chuckle at the sight of him. The corner of his lip upturns into a nervous smile.

He catches you grinning at him and his face turns sour.

“What’s so funny?” He asks defensively.

You reply genuinely, “Nothing. Just…you look cute together.”

You watch as Isaiah babbles and attempts to grab at the strange young man holding him. His chubby legs kick and kick with such energy and excitement of seeing a new person.

John scoffs at your remark and opens his mouth to retort. Though he’s quickly distracted by Isaiah wiggling in his arms and he grows nervous at keeping him still.

“Uhhh,” John groans uncomfortably. “I think..oh shit, I’m gonna drop him.”

You giggle and quickly relieve John of his anxiety, fluidly scooping Isaiah from his stiff arms into yours. Isaiah babbles and squeals in your arms, testing his voice with his high pitches. The soothing rocking of your arms and the heat of the air settles his excitement and he soon grows weary.

For several minutes, you and John watch his eyelids slowly fall and rise every couple of seconds as he jerks himself awake, kicking a leg and trying his hardest not to sleep. He’d attempt this a few times until he could no longer fight it. The warmth and comfort of your body allows him to relax and finally sleep in your arms.

John sits cross-legged in front of you in silence, watching Isaiah fall into a deep sleep. He watches his little stubby fingers attempt to grip at your forearm tightly before relaxing. Moving his gaze up to your face, John notices your smile is gone and replaced with a forlorn look.

He asks quietly, “What’s wrong?”

The heavy weight of guilt grows in your chest and you lift your head with glassy eyes. As you break your attention away from Isaiah to John, your chin quivers and a rogue tear slides down your cheek. With a shaky breath, you answer.

“I’m afraid,” You say with a cracked voice. “I thought everything would be better once he’d be born but, I feel trapped.”

John looks to you with understanding. For the past few months, he’s watched you and Arthur struggle against each other. He had secretly grown proud of how strong you kept yourself under Arthur and Dutch’s pressure. He knows Arthur’s only reciting what Dutch tells him, never thinking for himself and that aggravates John. He thinks himself far younger than Arthur and yet so much more headstrong and independent. John had been watching you struggle with your options in silence and he worries you’ll choose one you’ll regret.

This is his opportunity to tell you what he thinks.

He attempts to console you, speaking quietly and honestly.

“Everyone loves him, (Y/N). I can see that.” He says.

Another tear escapes your eye, painting your cheek.

“It don’t seem to matter how much everyone loves him,” you croak. “What matters is what Dutch thinks and what kind of life he should have.”

“But your life’s been better since you joined. And mine. And Arthur’s!” John exclaims in a hush. “Don’t you think? What makes ‘im think we can’t give him the best life with us?”

John points to Isaiah who remains unstirred in your arms.

“Because we’re criminals, John.” You say with dread, letting Dutch’s repeated lectures finally sink in.

“And who’s to say I won’t resent him later on? Treat him like my parents did me?”

Those last words tear into your heart like a jagged blade. Who’s to say you won’t inherit your parents awful temperament towards your child? Will you truly love him as he grows, or will you see him as just a mistake that took your freedom away?

John’s words grow heated in response to your self deprecation.

“Cause you’re not them, (Y/N),” he hisses through his teeth in frustration, “You’re better than them. I know you love Isaiah. Because if you didn’t, you’d leave him the first chance you get.”

He speaks bitterly in remembrance of his own childhood. The grief from loss and abandonment is all too familiar to him. He stares at Isaiah with his dark eyes glowing in a mix of resentment and woe. He knows from experience that little Isaiah is too fragile to live and grow without the love of a mother. Or a father.

“Just promise me one thing, will ya?” He asks, his own voice cracked and quiet.

Staying silent, you look into his eyes and nod.

“Don’t send him to an orphanage…please. Find him a family. A good one.” He confides solemnly. His head droops low and he lightly fumbles with the tip of his boot.

“Of course, John…” You assure him.

With his head still held low, John reaches forward and grasps at Isaiah’s hand. He holds the tiny hand in between his thumb and index finger, rubbing at the top of Isaiah’s hand with his thumb. Isaiah remains asleep while he curls his little fingers over John’s finger, holding onto him tightly.

“I promise.” You whimper through quiet tears.

…

The sun is dropping from its high noon perch and its heat begins to cool into the late afternoon. You stand by the food wagon, behind the work table with a variety of vegetables laid before you. Carrots and parsnips in orange, purple and white and fresh, crisp celery lay in bright contrast against the dark and scratched wooden table.

Your heart remains sunken from your gloomy exchange with John, and the mundane task of prepping supper has left your mind open to racing thoughts of what-if’s and should-I’s.

You barely hear the familiar footsteps belonging to the one who shares those thoughts with you. Both of your minds are unknowingly linked with troubled ruminations. The heavy strides step forward to you while your head remains low and your eyes focused on the rations before you. The tip of his boots come into view at the corner of your eyes, but you don’t react.

“(Y/N),” Arthur greets with hesitation, “We need to talk.”

“About what?” You ask, sensing his mood and growing on edge.

You already know what he wants to talk about, but you want to hear him say it. You want him to reflect on the terrible request before speaking.

Arthur fidgets with a carrot on the wooden table, rolling it back and forth on the un-level surface with his dirty hands. The speed of the rolls grow with your mutual irritance. He feels the tips of his ears flushing red. This decision hurts him too, but he hopes to make it quick before it can get worse. Never has he made such a paramount decision like this. The life he was thrust into at a young age taught him to react, to not waste time with decisions of morality, only survival.

In the past several years, he often left these choices to Dutch, because the man would take it upon himself to do so. This was something that Arthur had grown used to. Something he trusted.

Leave it to me, son. I’ll think of something. Dutch’s words echo in Arthur’s ears.

But how can Arthur tell you? Standing before him with a knife in your hands, how can he tell you that while he doesn’t like it either, it’s actually for the best?

The knife in your hand hits against the cutting board a little harder with each slice.

Watching you carefully, Arthur speaks, “I wanna talk about us.”

You involuntarily crease your eyebrows in confusion, your eyes squinting and still focusing on the vegetables. The smell of boiling beef stock in the pot next to you would’ve made you sick just a few months ago before Isaiah was born, but you’re too irritated to care now.

Neither of you wanted to cross this road again. But there’s only so many detours you can take before you reach the fork again.

Your voice slices into him like the knife through the carrot, which you snatch from his light grip.

“What makes you think there’s an ‘us’?” You say bitterly. Your tone is a little more than a hurried breath, but is loud in your heart.

Ignoring your bite, Arthur rests his hands on the table and leans his weight forward on them. He drops his chin low, watching your hands work quickly in repetitive movements.

“I wanna know what your plan is. For Isaiah.” He says.

The knife stops in your hand and your grip tightens against the handle.

“It’s too early, Arthur. He’s only three months old yet.” You say, steadying the frightened tremble in your voice.

He leans himself further over the table, bringing his face closer to yours but you keep your gaze low to the chopped vegetables, only feeling his breath on your forehead as he speaks.

“I know, but when? The longer we wait, the harder it’s gonna be.” Arthur speaks in a distinct whisper, meant for your ears only and no other.

If your thoughts hadn’t been racing, you could’ve detected the fear and reluctance in his voice as he spoke. You could’ve noticed the tremors in his hands and fingers, left empty to tremble in fear without an item to fidget with. You could’ve seen the tension in his broad shoulders growing stiff at the emotional weight that bears down on them.

“I don’t know when, Arthur.” You spit, “I can’t think with everyone breathing down my neck like this.”

“But you ain’t alone—“

“Oh, I ain’t?” You finally draw your gaze to him and stare into his eyes with a painful glare. “I don’t think you understand. You may be his father but, in the end it’s my decision to make. Not anyone else’s, regardless of what they think.”

“Just lemme help,” Arthur pleads.

“I think you’ve done enough,” you reply bitterly, “You’re a father now, Arthur. Start actin’ like one.”

Your words flood his ears and leave an awful dry pit in the back of his throat. He remains silent, allowing your statement to pierce him and the venom to fill his veins. It makes its way to his heart, filling it in each painful contraction.

You finish your harsh words, “Now leave me alone.”

Arthur complies and turns away. He takes his first step to leave before stopping himself.

With a slight pivot of his head, he utters, “Y’know, you keep this up and soon you will be alone with no one else to blame but yerself.”

…

Three weeks pass and you refuse to start the conversation again, despite Arthur’s pressing. Deep down you wonder, is it selfish of you to want to keep Isaiah? To keep Arthur tied to you this way?

You would never try to keep Arthur leashed to camp like a dog; to hold him hostage in a false sense of domesticity. You’re more than willing to raise this child on your own. Even if Arthur had this sudden change of heart and wanted to be rid of his mistake. You at least, are mature enough to step up to the plate, you tell yourself.

It’s been a few days since you’ve seen Arthur and John. They had been sent by Hosea to follow a tip about a train carrying payroll for a silver mine. After your argument with Arthur, you found yourself distancing from him again. Which you hated and it caused you much pain, but you forced yourself to; to avoid hurting Arthur again with such unkind words.

Laying Isaiah down to bed in your tent, you step out to walk across camp, towards Hosea’s tent. You see him sitting in his chair in front of his large tent, reading a book like always. An oil lamp sits beside him on a small table, cascading him in a soft, golden glow. Your thoughts remained troubled lately, and you hope Hosea would preach some wise words to calm your worries.

You hear hushed voices from behind one of the supply wagons and slow your pace, eyes slowly peering to the covered wagon. You stop with your feet planted when you recognize them.

“She’s still nursing, Dutch.” A voice whispers. Miss Grimshaw. “It’s too early to separate them.” She says. You detect apprehension in her tone.

“I know that Susan. But think about this. We’re getting too comfortable here and the law is startin’ to notice. We’ve got to move now, and we can’t travel with a baby. It’s too dangerous.” A deep, authoritative voice persuades.

Dutch.

He continues, “She needs to think about that. We need to think about the rest of the gang. We can’t afford any distractions.”

“But—“

“No. Exceptions cannot be afforded now. This is the safest option…for everyone.”

“And Arthur?”

A pause lingers.

“He’ll understand.”

Stepping swiftly and quietly, you turn to retreat to your tent. Closing the flaps of the entrance, you sob quietly into your hands. A few short cries are muffled by your palms. Your heart hammers in your chest and its beats roar loudly in your ears. After a moment, you release yourself with a deep, shaky breath.

We’re leaving? No, no, no, no. Not now. Not right now.

This can’t be happening.

Your cot gently creaks as you lie on your side and watch Isaiah. He sleeps soundly and unstirred in the little bassinet next to you. Earlier this week, you were persuaded by Hosea to have your tent moved closer to Arthur’s instead of near the perimeter, away from everyone else. Even though you were oblivious, Hosea could see the wanting in Arthur’s eyes as he watched you and Isaiah together. Arthur wants to help. He truly does. Unfortunately, you were blind to it.

“Closer to his father,” Hosea’s words repeat in your thoughts. “Make him get up with you when Isaiah wakes in the middle of the night. Don’t think you gotta do this all by yourself.”

A swirl of voices and past conversations enter and exit your anxious mind. You try so hard to silence them, but they break through the door of your conscience and demand to be heard.

Before long, the demanding voices exhaust you and you fall into a troubled sleep.

You’re walking along a red sand beach. The grains of sand give under your weight and hold onto the shapes of your feet and toes. The tide is low and the dry beach stretches out for miles towards the horizon. The cold white caps of the sea lap gently in the distance. The sky is bleak and gray, and the cold air bites at your exposed skin. You move to draw your shawl closer, but find you’re wearing only a thin, white nightgown made of silk. You find yourself standing alone in the middle of the dry ocean bed, the growing tide laps at your feet. Looking down at your bare feet in the sand, you see your pregnant belly. It’s so large, you can barely see your toes.

A voice calls behind you. It sounds so far away and distorted, you can barely make it out. You want to turn to see who’s calling, but you’re stuck facing the horizon.

Your body feels like it’s stuck in a vat of molasses. Every movement of your muscles is slowed and you’re snapped back to your original stance when you try to break its grip. The unidentifiable hold on you is forcing you to watch the growing tide as the water rises higher and higher. The voice behind you grows louder and louder, its call becoming clearer. It’s a familiar voice shouting your name, and it begs you to return to shore. You desperately want to run to the voice, to be wrapped in its warm embrace, its rich timbre filling your ears, but the hold on you refuses to break.

A white-capped wave rolls towards you, high as the cliffs behind you. The sound of the approaching wave is deafening, like an oncoming train. It muffles the screams and hollers of the voice behind you. You’re knocked back as the wave crashes into you like a wall of stone. A sudden pain jolts like an electric current in your stomach, and something slips out between your legs. You move to grab it with both hands, but it slips out of your grip. Still submerged in the dark waters, you open your eyes and see Isaiah sinking below you. His cries echo in the water. You try to scream his name, but the water fills your lungs and no sound can escape your throat. Swimming further and further down to catch him, he slips out of your grip and you find he’s sinking so much faster.

Reaching your hand out, he seems so close. Just a little more and you can grab his heel. A rough hand grips at your arm, pulling you up towards the surface, away from your baby. You claw at its grip, but it’s holding you so tightly that it digs painfully deep into your muscles and bone. Gold rings adorn the fingers of the hand, with coarse black hair on its knuckles. Screaming and thrashing, you bite and claw at the hand, but its burning grip doesn’t give. Looking back down into the abyss, you can faintly see a speck of your infant child, sinking further down. His cries are still loud in your ears, amplified in the water.

Suddenly, the hand pulls and you break the surface with a deep gasp.

“No!” You cry, throwing your hands up and swinging wildly. Your palm makes contact with warm skin, and you feel a slight sting in your hand as you slap whoever’s holding you.

A booming voice curses above you, “Dammit!”

Opening your tear-filled eyes, you see Dutch holding a hand to his temple, rising up off his knees and angrily walking out of your tent. Bewildered, you look around your cramped tent and see Miss Grimshaw kneeling by your cot, trying to calm you down with sweet words. She shushes you and holds your head in her hands, your hair feels wet with sweat against her gentle fingers.

You notice the bassinet beside her is empty and you nearly leap off your cot, trying to push Miss Grimshaw away.

“Where is he?” You frantically ask, “Where’s Isaiah?”

Miss Grimshaw raises her hands up, “He’s fine, (Y/N). Arthur’s got him.”

“Why?” You ask, nearly crying in fear. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Grimshaw answers, “It’s okay. He’s okay. You were just having a nightmare, sweetie.”

Your chest heaves in panic. The images of your nightmare are still vivid in every blink of your eyelids. You struggle to stay standing as you become dizzy, raising a hand to your head.

Miss Grimshaw takes notice and lightly wraps her arms around you.

“It’s alright. Everything’s alright.” She soothes. “Let’s just lie back down. Hmm?”

Suddenly, a sputtered cry comes from outside your tent. Instinctively, you move to run to the source of the sound, until Grimshaw holds you back.

“It’s alright dear. You just rest now…I’ll go get ‘em.” She reassures you.

Your anxious breathing refuses to subside until Arthur steps in with Isaiah in his arms. He’s cozily wrapped in his white cotton blanket, hungrily fussing in Arthur’s thick arms. You reach out and silently ask for your child, to which Arthur grants. He seamlessly transfers little Isaiah from his arms to yours.

Grateful for the familiar weight in your arms, your panic finally begins to subside. Tears roll down your cheeks and you hold back a sob, kissing Isaiah’s warm forehead.

He continues to fuss and cry until you unbutton the front of your nightgown and drop a shoulder to draw him to your exposed breast. You notice Arthur shift uncomfortably at the sight and move to exit your tent.

“Wait, Arthur. It’s ok.” You stop him.

Standing by the entrance, he looks to you and asks, “You sure?”

You nod and pat the empty spot beside you with your free arm. Arthur still hesitates.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen them before.” You remind him.

Arthur gives a tense shrug and responds, “I know but, this is different.”

“Please, Arthur?”

Arthur nods and sits besides you with a tense sigh. He looks over and watches his son suckle at your breast with his tiny yet plump lips. Isaiah’s eyes close while you and Arthur hear the occasional breath through his little nose as he greedily feeds off your nipple.

You finally look over to Arthur and whisper, “Did I wake everyone up?”

Embarrassed for you, Arthur nods and runs his fingers through his thick hair.

“Yeah…guess you had a bad dream. Isaiah was cryin’ and Dutch and Grimshaw were tryin’ to wake you up. All of a sudden, I’m standin’ outside with ’im and I hear you give Dutch a big slap.”

He wraps an arm behind you and rubs his hand on your shoulder. With a small chuckle, he says, “Ain’t seen him get that red in a while. You musta hit him pretty good.”

Wiping the lingering tears from your eyes with your free hand, you smile, “Yeah. My hand still kind of stings.”

Arthur shifts closer to you, wrapping a corner of Isaiah’s blanket over his little bare feet.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks gently, hoping to ease the tension.

Normally, you had come to Arthur to talk of your dreams or nightmares. He enjoyed deciphering them with you, figuring out what they could mean or what would cause them. But the image of your baby sinking into the black waters makes your heart feel like it was pierced with hot iron. You want to erase it from your mind.

Blinking away a stray tear, you answer, “No. I just wanna forget about it…Will you stay with me though?”

You feel so pitiful in asking, but you’re afraid to go back to sleep. You don’t want to return to that red beach.

You look into Arthur’s tired eyes and silently plead. He grasps your free hand beside him and looks over to Isaiah, whose lips have now released your nipple and remain agape as he sleeps soundly. Arthur nods and offers to take Isaiah from your arms. He gingerly places him in the bassinet while you button up your nightgown. Returning to your cot, he lays behind you and pulls you close. His warm arm wraps around you and he holds your hand in his, intertwining his fingers in yours. He slips his other arm beneath your neck, offering it as a pillow. You let out a shaky breath and allow Arthur’s warmth envelope you. His hot breath upon the back of your neck soon lulls you back into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

The morning sun has not yet risen as you wake. Through the crack of your tent flaps, the sky is barely lightened to an early morning hue of sapphire, cascading everything on earth with its deep color. Leaving Arthur and Isaiah to sleep behind you, you quietly step through the canvas entrance of your remaining solitude. An unease remains buried in your heart from last night as you step back out to the outside world.

A decision has to be made. Today.

[yourdanganronpaneedshere]

heya long time no see! remember that time i made a request but the requests were closed?, welp now that they're open again, im here to re-send mine as i promised owo; how would rantaro, kokichi, shuichi, kaito and kiibo react when they see their (S/O) escaping from her execution, and when everything is over, she appears behind them all tired and exhausted saying "did ya' miss me?"

HeY GUYS, sorry for the long absence lmao, but it’s one in the morning and I need some ANGST. Anyways, I’m glad you’re back hun! I was really excited to do this ask!

~ Mod Hiyoko

Amami, Ouma, Saihara, Momota and Kiibo’s Fem! S/O escaping her execution!

Rantaro Amami

There was a dark aura in the trial grounds as everyone’s chatter continued on. Rantaro had a feeling since they first exited the elevator that you were hiding something, and as the trial went on, the sinking feeling in his stomach only got worse.

He didn’t really care so much how or when you committed the murder, he just wanted to know why.  He wouldn’t even have imagined his dear S/O committing such an atrocious act.

You began to grow more and more nervous as you felt his stone gaze beat into you… Like he was staring into your soul. Finally, you just admitted it was you.

Rantaro let out a sigh. Definitely not one of relief. More like a weight he had been carrying was now off his shoulders, but in the worst way possible.

It was a particularly messy kill, so people didn’t have too hard of a time believing it was you. The vote was cast swiftly and everyone stared at the screen as your portrait appeared. You were the Blackened.

Your classmates looked at you in a mixture of pity and remorse. They demanded you explain your actions in minute detail, but the only voice you could register was that of your boyfriend’s.

“Why?” Rantaro asked you simply. “Why did you do this?”

“B-because…” It was hard to speak with everyone’s gazes upon you, but you managed to choke out your explanation, and everyone appeared satisfied, aside from a few snide remarks from Miu and Kokichi, but Rantaro shut them up with a harsh glare.

You couldn’t tell if he was disappointed, sad, angry, or a mix of the three, but all you felt in that moment was shame so heavy that you felt like you deserved whatever Monokuma had in store for you.

Rantaro approached you, and you braced yourself for harsh words, but instead he gently wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. His hugs were always the best, but this one was tighter than usual, and he was slightly trembling.

“I love you S/O. I’m so, so sorry.”

He tried to grab you again when you were dragged off to face your execution, but there was nothing he could do. He felt empty. The anger and depression wouldn’t sink in until much later, all he could think about was that you were gone. Or else he thought.

“Did ya miss me?”

He stared at you, mouth agape, but he nodded in response. He gently placed his hand on your cheek and caressed it with his thumb before leaning in to kiss you.

 “Yeah, I did.”

Kokichi Ouma

For once, Kokichi almost lost his composure. He knew it was you from the very beginning, but a part of him thought maybe, just maybe there was a chance he could be proven wrong.

He kept his arms carelessly rested behind his head, he had the same mischievous grin, and he still toyed with your classmates like it was all a game to him. But inside, he was panicking. He finally found someone he could trust, and she had to go and kill someone. He felt betrayed, but the common sense in him told him not to jump to any conclusions just yet.

To your surprise, Kokichi barely acknowledged you at all throughout the entire trial. But then again, you knew him long enough to know that he probably had connected all of the dots long beforehand. Was he pissed off? Did he not care? There was no way for you to know.

Everyone else came to the same conclusion he had, and trial ended with you being voted as the Blackened. Since you were dating Kokichi, everyone had assumed that you were as nasty as him by default, so no one was really surprised.

“Why did you do it?” It wasn’t Kokichi who had asked this, but Shuichi. Your boyfriend was still actively ignoring you.

“I…” You explained to the best of your abilities. Your motivations came to a bit of a shock to the others. They expected something more… Sadistic.

You knew every second drew you closer to death, and you wanted to break the silence between Kokichi and yourself before you left him for good. You spoke his name, but he cut you off before you could say anything else.

“Wait!” He turned towards Monokuma with a desperate look on his face that surprised even you.

“Execute me instead! You want someone to die, right? Kill me in her place!”

You stood there blankly, unable to process what was going on. Kokichi, who had been ignoring you for the whole trial, who hadn’t even reacted to your confession, was now pleading for your life.

Monokuma just laughed at him. The black and white bear pulled a lever and the chain gripped your neck in a tight hold and yanked you backwards.

Kokichi screamed out your name as you disappeared. Shortly after, you reappeared on the large screen, and everyone watched as you withstood indescribable torture. Kokichi couldn’t even watch the end. He turned away, a dark shadow covering his expression. You were gone. The only person who had ever truly loved him. The Mastermind would be put through hell. He would see to it personally.

There was a tap on his shoulder, and he whipped around to see your triumphant smirk.

“Miss me?”

“W-what?”

Not much time was spent before he tackled you in a hug. His heart pounded in his chest, and he fought to hold back tears. His stance on the Mastermind still stood. They would pay in their blood for what happened to you, but that would have to wait awhile. Kokichi didn’t plan on letting you go any time soon.

Shuichi Saihara

Shuichi couldn’t believe it. It was Kaede all over again, but this time worse. At that point, he was convinced God wanted to see him suffer.

It hurt him immensely to do so, but as the Ultimate Detective, it was his job to root out the truth and save his fellow classmates from impending doom… Even at the cost of his lover’s life.

The entire time he followed the trail towards you, he felt the lump in his throat getting ever bigger. He knew without a doubt you were the killer, but he couldn’t bring himself to flat out say it. You both made direct eye contact, and though your lips were in a straight line, and your eyebrows rested comfortably like you could care less about the world, your eyes spoke to him in a way that said “it’s okay. You can say it.”

And so he did.

“…and my deductions have lead me to believe that… S/O is the killer.”

Everyone gasped. Partly at the fact that he thought you were the killer, but also because he could accuse his girlfriend of murder so calmly. It was a whirlwind of emotions in the trial room, but no one’s shock could outmatch the pure despair you and Shuichi felt in that moment.

Before he voted, Shuichi insisted you explain your actions, and internally begged that you at least killed them on accident, and not in an act of cold blood.

After you had explained everything with tears in your eyes threatening to spill over, everyone cast their vote, and all that was left to do was wait.

Shuichi didn’t waste anymore time on talking, tears fell from his eyes like a waterfall and he solemnly walked up to you and pulled you into his arms. He didn’t even care why you did it. He was about to lose the most important person in his life, and it was going to be shown on a huge t.v. like it was some sort of joke.

“I’m so sorry Shuichi.” You felt like you had to say something, something to calm his nerves, and to atone for the emotional strain he was put through, but he just shook his head and squeezed you tighter.

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve prevented this from happening, I should’ve-”

“Let’s give it everything we’ve got! IIIIIIIIIT’S, PUNISHMENT TIME!”

In the blink of an eye, you were ripped from Shuichi’s grasp and pulled onto the execution grounds. It happened so fast Shuichi couldn’t even react. He just watched in silent agony as you went through your death. It was torture. There was no way he would be able to bounce back from this. But… maybe God didn’t hate him as much as he thought.

“Ya miss me?”

Of course he would ask a million questions once you got out of there, but at that moment all Shuichi did was hold you while the sobbing started up again.

Kaito Momota

Kaito was yelling throughout the entire trial. It wasn’t unusual for him to be vocal during trials, but this time there was unadulterated anger and frustration lacing his words as everyone began to accuse you of the murder.

“W-What the hell are you guys saying?! S/O would never kill anyone! Shuichi-”

But even his sidekick wasn’t there with him this time. Kaito desperately looked over at you, inwardly begging you to show any sign of innocence, but the look of guilt in your eyes said it all.

Even after everyone had voted and you were revealed to be the Blackened, he was still in denial. He tried to run at Monokuma, yelling various insults and curse words while Shuichi and Kiibo both held him back.

Nobody would ever catch him cry, but the sadness in his eyes was enough.

“S/O, why?”

You explained everything, expecting Kaito to be furious with you. He was furious, all right, but not with you; with the Mastermind.

He panicked when Monokuma announced that it was time for your punishment, and ran over to you, wrapping you in a protective embrace. But the chain grasped your torso, and even Kaito’s strong hold wasn’t enough to keep you from being yanked backwards.

He watched your execution, gritting his teeth the entire time.

“DAMN IT!” He yelled, pounding his fist on a nearby surface. It wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t have been forced to kill. He was going to stop this killing game. For you, and for-

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming from behind him.

“Did ya miss me?”Surprisingly, his shock didn’t last long before he pulled you into a hug. Like I said, nobody would ever see him cry… But at that moment, he was pretty damn close.

K1-B0

Kiibo couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t wrap his head around how you could get yourself in this position. Whether you killed on purpose or by accident, he was just… dumbfounded.

The entire trial he was silent. Normally he would chime in, as eager to solve the murder and get back to his life as everyone else. But now he could only watch in depressed silence as the trial continued on. You had told him beforehand exactly what happened, and though Kiibo did have his own sense of justice… he still couldn’t send his lover to her death.

But once the trial came to a close and your face appeared on the large t.v. signifying your guilt, his silence came to an end. There was a flood of emotions he didn’t even know he could feel. Sadness at your impending death, fear at what said death would hold in store for you, and anger that you were forced into this situation in the first place.

Everyone asked why you did what you did, Kiibo included, and you answered honestly. Monokuma’s shrill and ugly voice rang out, saying it was time for your punishment. You ran to Kiibo to share one last hug, and kissed him gently on his cheek, apologizing for leaving him. Kiibo assured you he held no hard feelings, and himself apologized for letting it come to this.

He broke down in tears when the chain yanked you backwards into the black abyss; into the trial grounds fit only for the Ultimate (Talent) herself.

You two were always together… How could this happen? You swore to protect each other, and he lost you. Throughout your execution, he was thinking of ways he could destroy the Mastermind and end the killing game. Kiibo couldn’t allow anyone else to die.

He didn’t even notice the amazed gasps coming from his classmates as you stumbled up behind him, at least, not until he heard your voice.

“Did you miss me?”

“S-S/O?”

Kiibo wasted no time in rushing over to you, wrapping his arms around you, which, needless to say, was a little painful, but at the time you didn’t care; you simply hugged him back and cried with him. As emotional as this moment was, you would have a lot of explaining to do later… As well as a very pissed off Monokuma to deal with.

[29-pieces]

Whumptober day 24 - The Musketeers

Day 24: Blindfolded Fandom/Setting - BBC’s The Musketeers, early S1 before d’Artagnan is commissioned Read on AO3 Read on FF.net

~*~

"Filthy cowards!" d'Artagnan raged, squirming with all his might in an attempt to get back up on his feet. The thick rope that had been wound around his middle kept his arms trapped down at his sides, preventing him from drawing a weapon or throwing any punches. It also made it harder to keep his balance. Between that disadvantage and the blindfold wrapped over his eyes to keep him from seeing which direction the next attack would be coming from, d'Artagnan had no opportunity to defend himself.

The red guards who had waylaid him all seemed to find this terribly entertaining. Their jeers and taunts circled the unfortunate recruit, as did a heavy kick every time he tried to clamber back up.

D'Artagnan gasped as another blow came out of nowhere, driving the wind from his body and leaving him to double up and wheeze for precious oxygen. The insults levied at him fell on deaf ears. As soon as he got free of this, he thought with fury, he was going to beat each and every one of them into the ground, single-handedly.

"Shouldn't have thrown in your lot with that Musketeer rubbish," one of the guards snickered. The statement was followed by a hand fisting in his hair, pulling him halfway up off the ground. "Everyone knows they're sorry excuses for soldiers."

D'Artagnan felt blood dripping from his nose over his lip as he bared his teeth and snarled blindly back, "One of them is worth ten of you!"

His loyal declaration was paid for with a punch to the cheek. What was one more bruise to add to the myriad he was rapidly accumulating? Reckless and outraged, the Gascon added, "None of you would dare face one of them one on one! You aren't fit to even speak of them!"

More blows rained down on him and he couldn't see to brace himself. Pure stubbornness (and the fact that they probably couldn't hear him anyway over the shouting and jeering) was all that kept him from any audible sounds of pain. For crying out loud, he wasn't even a musketeer! ...Yet! But when he was, oh, he would make them pay for this...

"One of 'em is worth ten of us, didya hear that, lads?" one of them asked with a loud guffaw. "Well, there are ten of us, aren't there? An' one of you. Which means... you might want to recalculate that, little pig farmer."

"You'd think all his time wrestling pigs would have made him better at this," another hooted.

D'Artagnan's blood surged hot at the insult, and he snapped back, "You're saying you're no better than pigs, then?"

A beat of silence followed; he could just imagine their collective brains trying to work through the statement, which eventually one of them did. An angry shout preceded more kicks and punches that d'Artagnan couldn't evade, try as he might to anticipate the next shot. Surely they would tire of this soon, he thought frantically. Despite the Red Guards' ongoing rivalry with the Musketeers, they couldn't actually kill him... could they?

"Wait, I know what'll make him squeal," one of the men suddenly called. "Where's Bruno?"

D'Artagnan had no idea who Bruno was, but the excited agreement from the others left him with no doubt he wasn't going to enjoy finding out. Multiple pairs of hands grabbed him by the arms, hauling him up to his feet and dragging the blindfolded recruit along. He struggled and shouted, doing his best to wriggle free of the rope around his middle, but they held him firm. Somewhere nearby, he heard a gate or door being opened, then he was pushed forward. Tripping on the cobblestone, d'Artagnan ended up sprawled on the ground again, only to freeze at the sound of throaty, furious barking.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath, trying to scramble back from the newest threat, knowing that he had no chance at fighting off a dog without the use of his hands. "Bastards!"

"Bruno, you hungry?" one of the guards closest to him asked. Footsteps retreated, leaving d'Artagnan alone.

Bruno, and he sounded huge, started barking and snarling even louder, sounding desperate to get at d'Artagnan's throat.

Heart pounding in his chest, d'Artagnan said his mental goodbyes to anyone who had ever known him.

"Get 'im, Bruno!"

D'Artagnan felt something huge barreling forward, heard the sound of heavy paws and enraged growling; he curled up to make as small a target as possible and finally gasped in fear.

Having finally achieved the reaction they'd been hoping for, the red guards dissolved into laughter.

.o.O.o.

Athos wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Since d'Artagnan's first, rather memorable moment barging into their lives, he'd proven himself something of a magnet for trouble. Athos recognized it; he had two other brothers who were just as bad. What he was not expecting was for the Red Guard to have gotten themselves involved with the newest recruit.

Though, he was quite sure it would have taken nothing more than a snide comment about the musketeers in general, or one of the three Inseparables in particular, and d'Artagnan would have been trying to duel the entire complement of Red Guard. Athos shook his head in spite of the silent affection. Loyalty was commendable. Perhaps once they taught him to temper it somewhat...

In any case, even Athos had not been expecting a full squad of red guards to have waylaid the boy. Cowardice was one thing, but surely this was beneath even them. Coolly, the swordsman drew a pistol and fired it into the air. It worked to make all of the guards duck and spin around in fright, though it had also made d'Artagnan flinch violently from his spot on the ground. Not what he'd been going for.

"Restrain that brute," he ordered calmly, nodding to the dog they'd been using to taunt d'Artagnan. The beast was still wearing a collar and lead; he suspected they hadn't been planning to actually let the animal attack d'Artagnan, only wanting to get a frightened reaction from him.

"Athos?" d'Artagnan asked shakily. "Is that you?"

"Mm," Athos assented, directing his coldest glare at the Red Guard lieutenant, the one who should have been above this childish game. "Porthos."

"You lot," Porthos growled in disdain, dismounting from his horse and storming over towards d'Artagnan with his dagger in hand. The red guards scurried to get out of his way. "Pathetic, that's what you all are."

"The next time you get bored, we'd thank you to find your entertainment elsewhere," Aramis added flippantly, his own pistol idly resting on his leg but pointed right at their attack dog in case any of them had the bright idea to loose the beast after all. "And leave our recruits alone."

Athos watched as Porthos cut d'Artagnan free and pulled the blindfold away. The lad was quick to jump to his feet, and he was a mess of bruises, but Athos was pleased to see he appeared only furious and not scared. Good. It wouldn't do to let the bullies know they'd obviously gotten to him. He was also glad to see Porthos merely offering d'Artagnan a hand back up without fussing over him too much, none of them wanting to give the guards the impression that d'Artagnan needed coddling or protection. Lifting his chin, Athos turned his attention back to the lieutenant.

"Although," he went on. "If you're so anxious to prove yourselves against a musketeer, any one of you may challenge me. Right here. Right now. Any takers?"

His eyes slid from one to the next, daring each and every one of them to try their luck against a musketeer who was ready and able to fight back. To nobody's surprise, each of the guards looked away as his eyes settled on them. By now, Porthos was back on his horse and given d'Artagnan a lift up behind him. Athos nodded in satisfaction and glowered around once more, just to make sure the message had sunk in.

"The captain will hear of this," he growled, before wheeling his horse around and charging out of the Red Guards' courtyard.

He led the way back to the Musketeer garrison at the same clipped pace, but immediately swung down from his horse to grab d'Artagnan as soon as he dismounted from behind Porthos. Without a word, he took the lad's chin in his hand, turning his face this way and that to see what damage had been done.

"'M alright," d'Artagnan assured him, wincing and bruised, but as fierce as ever. "Next time I see one of their sniveling faces, I'm going to-"

"Whoa there," Aramis chuckled. He stepped over to the recruit, draping a casual arm around his shoulders. From his unconcerned grin, only one of his close friends would realize he was getting in place to grab d'Artagnan if he collapsed. "Don't get me wrong, I do love the idea of those tontos getting what they richly deserve."

"An' the captain would feel the same," Porthos said with a smirk, only barely masking the vengeful ire Athos knew he felt at their recruit being picked on. "But then he'd have to reprimand us..."

"And then you're mucking stables..."

"And most importantly, there's no sense giving the Cardinal reason to convince the King not to give you the commission you deserve," Athos finished for them. From his assessment, the lad had come to no real harm, nothing worse than some bad bruises and injured pride. "Now go see Serge. We had him save some supper for you when you weren't back in time."

Clearly still raring for a fight and unsatisfied at the lack of vengeance, d'Artagnan nevertheless nodded and headed for the mess. Athos watched him go, rubbing his chin broodingly.

Aramis crossed his arms and smirked. "There's some fire in that one."

"He's gonna make a great musketeer," agreed Porthos. "If he can stay outta trouble long enough."

Yes, Athos mused with a silent nod. Yes, he was quite sure d'Artagnan was headed for greatness. And they would be behind him every step of the way.

[sammlethal]

The entire world seems to be on fire. Problems at every corner of the globe. A pandemic that keeps mutating. A year of isolation. Of non norms.

And you.

How do you not see the big picture? As smart as you are...how do you not know? Or does none of it matter..

What did you do? Did you lie to me? Sell me a dream? Did you not mean any of the beautiful things youve told me.

You made me feel like such a good man. Only to turn around and force this conflicting inner battle...am I good? Am I the devil? And that is what happens when you spend a year in a cycle of love and hate. Only I NEVER hated you. Remember...you admitted to locking me up for two years...and we both know that the truth always comes out.

I wish you would think about the past year. The pressure from the world. Think. And consider that your not 100% correct. And that's okay...how many times have you proven me wrong and I just...take it?

You do know that love and compassion are so very important, right? How does the world change if we continue our past mindset?

Shouldn't our son watch us be strong? Shouldnt we humble ourselves and let go and be strong? Because lets be real...its not like you DONT love me. You sit there with your mental health issues...the serious anxiety and everything else...we both know that i am not the cause..we both had rough childhoods. You feel anxiety but lets be real about that too...

Your going to feel anxiety for the rest of your life. Your gonna stress. And worry. Thats what happens when you love someone (by that, I mean that is what YOU do)...you get comfortable and your walls come down (even if you only have small, thin walls..everyone has walls) and YOU start to slip. YOU do. And when you do, instead of doing your yoga or your music or your meditation...you assume that because im the wild card in the house, thst I am the reason behind it. NO. YOUVE ALWAYS HAD IT. YOUR MOMMA DID THAT..DONT YOU REMEMBER?

Sure...there are plenty of things i can to help. Give you space. Give you time. Never let go and show you my love is real? Dont come over with energy and being excited...i get it. And I havent always been able to do that for you and that is MY fuck up.

But blame me. Go ahead. I can bare it again. Thats what a man does i guess. I just wish you would think about all this and search yourself for that compassion and empathy you used to have...hahahaha you used to be so DETERMINED to not lose your compassion and empathy because you were scared of becoming like your mom.

Well your at the tipping point dear. And you need to check yourself.

Our son knows that I love you. Knows I want to be there. The ball is in your park.

You do not want me doing to other woman, what you taught me. I know that. And also, im finding out just how RARE of a man i am.

I put your happiness first (and even though I failed when I put MY emotions before yours, I still had the best of intentions...even if i was a fool)

Your pleasure is always first.

Massages

And the WAY I can please. My tounge. My fingers. How perfectly my head presses on your sweetest of spots. How I grrr and if you'd let me, how great of a master I can be.

I want you to know that as always...say the word and I will come running back to you with a smile.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Three, “If It Kills Me”

A story about what happens when she can’t be just his assistant anymore, and he can no longer be only her boss. Now, can they be happy with being just friends?

Read this story from the beginning here! :-) 

Inspo tag here!

*NEW* Spotify playlist in the works can be found here, songs that inspire me for the story and have significance in the story c: 

Warnings: one brief mention of vomiting, and some mild language.

                                   SNEAKY PEEEEEEEEEEEK

“And Becky’s face consumes my thoughts, much like it’s been captivating my conscience as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly. 

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger. 

I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. I miss all of it.”

Song Inspiration: If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz (click to listen)

            “It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh electricity, you know?” - Steve Harrington, Stranger Things 

The warm rays hit my cheeks as my sandals pound on the pavement. I wonder how I could ever be unhappy given the May sun shining down on me, and walking from my favorite restaurant. Without fail, the blissful idea is stolen away by a swarm of thoughts dosed in reality. And a particular one that reminds me of what I need to do, despite the dread I’ve been feeling. Not even the former respite of Asher’s hug after our shared lunch can keep them away. 

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swipe through my apps until I find the right one. Stopping in front of my gray car, I lean against the door with a huff. My thumbs hover across the screen nervously, followed by a curse under my breath. Quickly, they flit across the screen composing words in front of my eyes. Sliding into my driver seat, I stare at the screen for a moment longer before hitting send. 

I wait for the chime to come, telling me I have a new message, from him. Nervousness coats my limbs and only grows worse as the minutes tick by driving home. Waiting. But when I check my phone after walking in the door, my lock screen showing my dad and I’s smiling faces is blank. 

No new messages. 

Sliding off my black sandals, I pad through the shared living room and kitchen area before reaching my bedroom. My laptop beckons for me across the room on my desk, and I sit down before it. I hope that maybe if I don’t procrastinate this specific thing, maybe things will turn out a little better. But as I’m opening a study guide for Family Law’s final exam, I’m proven wrong. 

The chime grabs my attention immediately, making my fingers still on the keyboard. Flitting my eyes to the lavender Speck phone case, I grow antsy at wondering who the text is from. And what it says. Inhaling nervously, I pick it up and wake up the screen. The few words of a preview I see of the text cues a sour anxiousness to grow in my stomach. Bringing my knees up onto my chair, I pull them against my chest as I open the text. 

Me

Hey I’m so sorry I’ve been terrible at texting back, finals these next two weeks are getting to me. Speaking of that I realized that I have to take a final at the time we’re supposed to get lunch in a few days. I’m really sorry but can we reschedule . . . again? I was thinking in two weeks when I’m finally free from the clutches of uni????? :( 

Harry 

sorry cant love. im in edinburgh all that week for a case. lets talk about it when im back. good luck w finals xx

Sighing, I type up a short response, agreeing to that. With guilt casting a shadow over me, I return my attention to the lengthy study guide. The gross feeling in my stomach remains, and with its arrival, my excitement for our lunch date is replaced with disappointment. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks since we rescheduled it the first time, due to me messing up the dates, again. Peeking my eyes at my phone, I turn away and slump against my chair. 

It’s been a month since I saw him last, and although we’ve sent a handful of texts, they haven’t been enough for me. Skye, of course, told me that there’s nothing stopping me from showing up at his office door, but she’s wrong. I don’t know his schedule anymore, and for all I know, I’d be waiting around for him. Plus, my appearance would just yell ‘desperate!’ Sometimes, I wonder what little world Skye is tucked away into that’s far simpler, not realizing I still have to work during the day, especially more so this summer. 

But as the days drag on with chemo and radiation appointments, and lectures upon lectures, I think maybe Skye has the right idea being so optimistic. Maybe. 

+

Over the next few weeks, I see him at almost every corner I turn, and it hurts more than it should after all these weeks. The ignored texts shouldn’t feel like a fresh stab wound when I see that Scrabble box in the family room, get on that very same lift, or walk past the nurse’s station I found him leaning against that morning. Nothing compares to the piano and the pang I feel in my chest at the sight of it. It comes every time I walk through those doors and am reminded of the intimacy held on those keys. No, it didn’t get easier after the first time being back there with my dad, or the fifth time. Avoiding that gray sofa like the plague only reminded me of the texts I sent him that went unanswered. I can’t blame him though, because like a bitch, I took a week sometimes to reply to him. 

The tight feeling in my chest only feels heavier as I sit on the plaid couch in my childhood living room. I can’t even enjoy watching FRIENDS like I used to be able to, as their faces bring forth the sound of his laugh. It pains me to turn down their voices as I dig my phone out from under the cushions. I try not to let it get to me when I, once again, find no new text messages. My attempt is futile and it only causes me to take longer to open the phone app. By now, I know his number by heart, but my shaky hands cause me to mess up a few times. 

Pressing the phone to my ear, all I can hear is its ringing and the pounding of my heart. As the seconds drag on, I’m almost certain I’ll hear the voicemail next. But then I’m pleasantly surprised, although the bitterness in my stomach blossoms. 

“Hullo?” His gravelly voice pulls my lips into an instant smile. Rubbing the back of my neck anxiously, the words fall from my lips hurriedly. 

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” he responds curtly, a clattering noise heard in the background before he mutters a ‘shit.’

“I’m sorry, did I call at a bad time?” I ask quickly, regret filling my veins. 

“No, yer fine. ‘m jus’ makin’ dinna.”

“Oh um, nice. What are you cooking?” I inquire, twirling the braided silver ring on my pointer finger. Swallowing, I wait to hear his molasses drawl again, like music to my ears. 

“Jus’ a stir fry. So . . . why’d ya ring?” Harry responds, a coolness hugging his voice. 

“Um, I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” he hums awkwardly, followed by the sound of a door closing. Squeezing my eyes shut, uneasiness falls over me in a wave. Oddly, I wonder if all of a sudden I can’t call to say hi. “Ya, we’ve both been busy. Cases fer me, an’ prolly uni an’ yer dad’s treatments fer you.”

“Yeah,” I agree aloud, my chin falling to rest in my palm. But it leaves a second later to lose my fingers in my hair. “I wanted to tell you that I finished my finals last week, so now I just have clinical left in the fall. Oh, and my dad got to ring the bell today. He’s all done with chemo and radiation after his scans all looked good. It’s hard to believe that he’s cancer-free. His doctors will, of course, have to keep an eye on him in the future to make sure it doesn’t come back, but I couldn’t be happier.” 

“Tha’s wonderful, love,” Harry coos into my ear, the first notes of happiness heard in his voice. It begins to put me at ease, and cause me to think maybe something isn’t off after all. “‘m really glad t’ hear that- well both o’ those things.”

Unbeknownst to me, I find myself nodding along with his words as if I needed his confirmation. But his words stop there, and the sickening feeling that something is wrong settles back in. A small ‘yeah’ stumbles off my lips as my fingers form into a fist in my lap, debating what to say next. Or if I should ask what I’ve been wanting to say the entire time. 

“We weren’t able to get ahold of each other a few weeks ago to reschedule lunch. Would you still like to?” Going out on a limb, I let the words fly. 

I watch for them apprehensively, uncertain if they’ll take flight. The loud sound from his side, the subsequent shuffling, and a voice saying his name shoots them down hastily. 

“‘m sorry, I gotta go. ‘ll text ya ‘bout gettin’ lunch,” Harry remarks, his words stringing together swiftly. I barely have the chance to say an ‘okay’ before he abruptly hangs up, sewing together an unwanted thought for me. 

Tossing my phone to the other end of the couch, I fall back against the cushions. Turning up the volume of the telly, I avert my gaze back to the make-believe world I’ve always taken comfort in. As the phone call gnaws away at my insides, planting insecurities every few steps, I let the characters whisk me away. Even if their faces and familiar jokes will now never stop reminding me of him, and something I let go of that I didn’t know I had. I only feel worse when I realize that I knew then that he’d never send that text, and I think he knew that, too.

+

“Staring at it isn’t going to make it ring, y’know,” somebody states, pulling me from my webs of thoughts. 

Lifting my attention away from the black screen in my hand, I catch Myles looking at me impatiently. 

“Wha- ‘m sorry. I was listenin’.”

“Then what’d I just say?” he requests, the hand propped against his chin rising in a silent question. 

My lips fall apart to welcome my voice, but nothing comes out. Shrugging, he receives his answer and replies with a disapproving glare. 

“Hare, this is important stuff. We’re leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow for the case, it’s a huge one.”

“I know, My. Jus’ repeat what ya said, please,” I huff, batting a hand at him. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he leans back in his leather chair. 

“I swear to God, Harry, I-.”

“Stop,” I retort, growing annoyed. 

He plays with the point of his quiffed blonde hair before clearing his throat. Although I try to listen the second time around, my gaze is lulled back to my laptop screen. My fingers itch to touch the keys and type up words, and when Myles begrudgingly answers his ringing phone, I find my chance. Sliding my silent phone into my pocket, I click on the blue thought bubble, only to be met with disappointment. Brushing it away, my fingers fly across the keys and my words are sent with a soft hum. Soon, Myles hangs up the phone with a perturbed sigh and resumes the conversation we were having. Again, I try to return to the bubble we share and the words that occupy it, but my mind is consumed with the anticipation of that coveted ding. And with Becky’s face, much like it’s been captivating my thoughts as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly. 

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger. 

It crowds my mind when I wait for the boarding call, tapping my fingers along the screen and watching the words be sent off. I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. All of it. I miss all of it. It gnawed away at me slowly, and terribly, burying doubts beneath my defenses. They sprang up when I least expected them, and when I thought about sending just one more text. A few words wouldn’t hurt anything, I thought, but at the same time, I distrust the ultimate impact they could have. 

The pounding jars me from my reverie, bringing me to my feet slowly. Padding past the television and kitchen area, a yawn jumps from my lips. Another pound lands on the door, dragging my brow into a knot. 

“Oh, shuddup!” I exclaim in disbelief, wrapping my fingers around the smooth metal of the door. Yanking it open, I find the grinning bearded face of my mate standing on my stoop. “‘m not goin’, Rore, I already told ya this.”

“C’mon, Harry, I’ll look like a right idiot being there all alone,” Rory responds, his steps telling me he’s following me inside once I turn around. “Help a mate out here.” 

“Ya, ‘coz ya were so helpful tha otha day when I asked ya t’ consult with me fer the Starkey case.” Scoffing, his words pause between his lips as I fill a glass of water from the attachment on the fridge. “Why’re ya goin’ anyways, since it sounds like sumthin’ yer dreadin’? And since when d’ya even go t’ these sorta things? Last place I thought ‘d see you at, Rore.”

“I don’t, but it’s for me sister’s showing. I can’t miss it, she’s me baby sister. I’d hear about it from me mum for weeks.”

Snorting, I have to pull the glass of water away from my lips. 

“Hope ya bloody choke on that water, mate,” Rory scoffs, only making me laugh harder. Water flies from my lips as I’ve forgotten the glass on the marbled countertop. “Are ya coming or not, Harry? Ya know it’s a good place to pick up chicks, too. They blooming love these art gallery places.”

Recovering from my fit of giggles, I turn my head to find Rory waiting with the question in his eyes. He huffs and riffles a hand through his tousled blonde hair a few shades lighter than that which covers his face. Shaking his head, he wiggles his head at me. 

“I’ll consult with you on the next case, or even give ya first pick,” he whines, folding his hands together under his chin, as if he’s praying. 

“‘m yer bloody boss, I always get first picks,” I murmur, a smile cracking at the end of my words. 

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” he spits, pushing at a chair in front of the seated bar attached to the kitchen island. Clucking his tongue, he messes with the collar of his navy blue blazer thrown over a bloody Zeppelin shirt. Yeah, you sure look artsy there, Rore. But with the next words that fly from his sailor’s mouth, he pins me down. “What’re ya gonna do here anyways, sit and watch the bleeding telly all in your lonesome when ya could be with me getting damn a date?”

Biting my lip, my house slippers come into my view and when Rory’s eyes find them, a laugh explodes from his lips. “Go hurry up and bloody change before you’re too far gone, mate. I’ll be in the car,” he titters before his voice falls with a delighted sigh. Delight found in my pain. 

“Two cases, Rore. Any two cases I want, ya consult with me on. Ya got it?” I argue, following on his footsteps. 

“Whatever makes ya feel better, mate. I know you'll be thanking me later tonight.” 

“Doubt it,” I mutter, watching him open the door, sure there’s a sly grin covering his face. 

I turn to jog up the stairs until I arrive in my bedroom. Quickly, I toss on skinny jeans, a Keith Haring shirt, and a mustard button up smattered with faded white flowers. I look rather artsy, I reckon, I decide as I look at myself in my bathroom mirror. It’s an easy feat when you’re standing next to wannabe Rory over there, though. After taming my hair and finding a pair of shoes, I pad down the stairs. 

“Alexa, turn off all o’ my lights,” I announce, slipping my wallet and phone into my pocket as my hous darkens around me. 

“Take fucking long enough?” Rory groans when I slide into the passenger seat of his silver Sentra. 

“Shuddup and drive, will you? So we can get this ova with.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass tonight, then just go back inside,” he almost laughs, beginning to back away from the towering walls of my house. 

“Talking ‘bout yerself, are ya now?” I quip, bringing my phone from my tight pockets, tapping in my passcode. 

“I’ve noticed, y’know,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear him. Looking up from the bright screen, his eyes don’t stray from the road. “There’s a girl, isn’t there? Or there was?” he continues, a man I’ve come to love over the last three years he’s worked with me. And somehow I thought I had fooled him, but it turns out, I haven’t. I can’t even fool myself.

“Sumthin’ like that,” I whisper, my attention straying back to the conversation lit on my screen. Another day of the ball being in her court, and she just leaves it in the bloody corner, neglecting it. “I see why ya wanted me t’ come now . . . jus’ don’ try t’ set me up with yer bloody sista. She’s like twenty.”

His hearty chuckle fills the space around us, the words of a song from Death Cab for Cutie lurking in the background. “I won’t, but y’know she’s not gonna let ya out of her sight, mate. She’s had the hots for you from day one.”

“Oh God, Rore, what’d I let ya drag me into here?” I joke, my lips curling into a nervous smile. But the smile feels good, and it feels even better when her name disappears from my screen, and I forget my phone in my pocket. 

+

“What happened to making me dinner?” I whine from the couch, crossing my left leg over the other under the comfort of my blanket. 

“That was when you were busy, and well, the other day when I was feeling generous. Not today, missy,” Skye scoffs, the sound of the fridge shutting marking her words. Something lands in my lap with a plop, startling me. 

“Wow, how gourmet. Why thank you, I definitely don’t need to make dinner now,” I joke, picking up the wrapped piece of string cheese. 

“I know you’re still going to eat it. Just eat cereal or something, you hobo. I’m going to bed at a decent time, unlike somebody.”

“Hey, it’s a Friday!” I argue, pressing the page down button on the remote, waiting for something to catch my eye on Netflix. 

“Yeah, and some of us still have a job on Saturdays!” she calls from her journey down the hall. 

“Party pooper!” 

She remains silent on the defensive line, and so does the list of boring content on the television screen. Relenting, I click over to My Stuff and press play on the next episode of FRIENDS. Relaxing into the cushions, I unwrap the cheese and slowly eat it in strings. Giggles flow from my lips watching the scene unravel in front of me, and some eye-rolls because of Ross or Monica. After a while, my legs stray to the fridge, and I return to the tan sectional with a bowl of Cheerios. The milk threatens to spill over the side when I sit up suddenly, almost yelping in laughter at the scene when Monica and Rachel lose their apartment to Chandler and Joey. The sugary Cheerios soon disappear, and the milk follows them as the episode nears the end. 

Placing my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, I hurry back to the sofa to catch a Phoebe scene. My cheeks warm with a smile, but they soon grow cold when my thoughts have to interrupt with a memory of his face. That god awfully sweet smile adorned with his cherry lips and precious dimples. Without knowing what I’m doing, the cartoon looking app appears under my nose, and pictures fill my feed. I take a second look at a few of them that catch my attention, the angry voices of Rachel and Monica tickling at my ears. 

Soon, the search bar materializes and although it feels wrong, I type in letter after letter to create his name. I can’t remember the last time I glanced at his profile, just to catch a hint of him. Finding the profile I’ve become familiar with, I tap on his picture and wait for his profile to load. Glancing away, the tv captures my attention once more as I scratch at an itch on my leg. Yawning, I rub at my eye before it falls back to the blindingly bright screen. Blinking hard to clear the haze from my vision, I scroll down to see what new pictures he’s posted, although they’re usually few and far between. 

I find the most recent picture I recognize and tap through them. Picturesque shots from high in the clouds. His unbelievably adorable niece. Food-grams. A picture of a homemade pizza is making my mouth water and is still stuck in my mind when I happen upon the next photo, and the most recent one. The moisture in my mouth is wicked away, suddenly bone dry when the image in front of my eyes slowly registers with me. But I can’t believe it, even though I’m seeing it. I don’t want to see it, or believe it. The moisture reappears in the corners of my eyes quickly as a sourness quickly knits together in my gut. The image shakes in my hands and then blurs in my eyes, accented by the thrashing of my heart inside of my chest. 

“Skye!” I shout, the words leaping from my lips with little success. 

My lip wobbles and I feel my entire face collapse from pain, disbelief, the whole shebang. The sob screaming from my lips is muffled by my fingers coming to my mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” I mutter, inhaling fast and feeling the tears in my throat. Because I can feel it everywhere in my body - the pain. In my eyes, my stomach, my hands, and my chest. The sight of Harry’s lips touching that of another girl’s sends knives into my heart, and my stomach roiling. “T-this can’t . . . ,” but my words escape me, because the multitudes of feelings punished with anguish and despair course through me. 

“Skye!” I yell again, not realizing that I’ve gotten to my feet. I stumble at first, feeling the weakness reach my legs. Her name leaves my lips wet with tears as I run past the kitchen and down the hall. 

Pushing open her door, darkness meets my eyes, and I swear in that moment it swallowed me. Hitting me, I grab the doorframe and feel my forehead fall against it. Leaning there for support, the sobs roll through me, the very reason still clutched in my hand. 

“Whaaaaat?” she groans tiredly from her bed across the room. 

But I only reply with a sob of her name, hiccups havocking my chest. My hands claw at the wall, darkness coating my eyelids. 

“Ree?” Skye asks groggily, the click of her lamp following her words. “What happened? Are you alright?” she hurries, the pillowy patting of her covers being thrown back meeting my ears. 

Her arms wrapping around me are almost numbing, and do nothing. And feel like nothing. But when I feel my head meet her chest, the slowed-down world I lived in for those few seconds vanishes. 

“Skye, I-. . . ,” I attempt, once again falling up short as tears suffocate my voice, much like they’re making me feel. Shakily, I press my phone into her hand as I try to find safety in her arms. 

I wait and then am rewarded with her intake of breath followed by a sigh. “Holy fuck,” she whispers, and retaliates by pulling me closer against her. “Come here, Ree.”

She walks me over to her bed and helps me under the covers until I’m surrounded by them, and her arms. 

“Who i-is she?” I demand sloppily, searching for something to hold onto and to anchor myself with. I’m compensated with the smooth fabric of her shirt that I cling to the back of, my head falling into her hair. The mundane scent of strawberries wafting from her body tries to relax me, but to no avail. 

“Ree-,” she begins, but I don’t let her start, let alone finish. 

“I want to kn- I need to know,” I respond, sniffling against the warm expanse of her neck. There’s shuffling next to me before she sighs, and I sense the light of my phone. Tapping prods at my hearing as I try to form coherent thoughts. 

I’m met with images of him. Harry. His dark curls, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the high-pitched giggle that accompanied my tickling as well as his own. The intruding memories rack my body with shaking sobs, pressing my lips together as new tears gush over them. My belly contracts with each sob, and I don’t even register the cramping in my hands from holding on so tightly. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Skye hums warily from above, pulling my head into her neck, leaving her arm there to shield me from her words. Or the image that I can’t remove from my mind even if I tried. It’s burned there indefinitely now. 

His arms in a blue button-up surrounding her and his lips enveloping hers. A smile creasing his cheeks with happiness, and spreading to those of her dark cheeks. Her curvy body pressed against his, flowing ebony curls tickling her chocolate skin. 

“Tell me.”

“Okay,” Skye caves, the tips of her fingers running marathons along my back, in attempts to calm me down. But I don’t know if the tried and true will work this time, although it has for every other, even when my dad’s life was painted with the C-Word. “She’s a London based artist, does some sculpting and gallery work locally. According to her Instagram account, anyways.”

“I asked . . who is she?” I repeat, my voice wavering under the dominance of the tears. 

“Her name’s Bailee Taylor.”

“W-what does her page look . . . like?” I request, exhaustion blanketing me, and only adding another feeling to the rest. Blinking away the tears, I try to take in a deep breath, but my memories hit me with the safety I felt in his arms. Unwaveringly. 

“It looks like they’re . . dating,” Skye announces quietly, squeezing me around the middle. The confirmation I didn’t know I’d been searching for hits me like a train, knocking the air out of me again. And all of a sudden, hatred pulses through me, asking me where to lay it. Where to feel it. “There’s a few pictures of them on her feed, looks like they met maybe a few weeks ago.” 

“Why?” jumps from my lips finally, taking a nosedive to join a sea of unanswered questions. The word shakes the second it leapt from my tongue, and somehow it hurts more than all of the rest. “I h-hate him,” I cry, my nose smushing against her skin when I try to hold onto her tighter than I already am. 

“No, you don’t,” she coos, raking her fingers through my hair slowly, and carefully. 

“I know, b-but I wish I could,” I answer, the memories dancing through my head at hyper speed. Falling asleep in his arms, and waking up in them. The tickling fight. The almost kiss. The Scrabble game. Waking up to find him waiting there in the doorway. Him coming back even after the way I treated him. Finding him standing there at the front of the lecture hall. The reprieve of being in his arms again after so long spent away from them. And then, like a wall, my mind runs into the strings of unanswered texts. The canceled lunch dates. The both of us ignoring the other’s texts, but then at the end, it was him. It was him who was awkward during the last phone call. He hung up on me abruptly, and I heard somebody else was there. Was it her? It’s possible they would have already been together by then. He said he’d text me to set up lunch, and he never did. 

“It won’t make you feel better,” she murmurs, cupping my head with her palm. The sound of tears edging at her words only makes mine come harder, and the feeling in my gut grows louder. 

“Then what will?” I beg, wondering if I’ll ever forget the taste of the salty tears. A taste I thought I could forget just late last month when my dad was cured. News that I told him, and had been impatiently waiting to do all day. “I thought I was just feeling okay again, Skye.”

“I know, Ree, I’m so sorry,” she returns, placing her cheek against mine, the first tear peeking through in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

I unpeel myself from her anxiously, kicking away the blankets before my feet land on the floor. 

“Where are you going?” she almost demands, the sound of her following me far away. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” I confess, rushing down the hall before falling to my knees in front of the toilet. The Cheerios and milk from earlier make a reappearance, along with the string cheese, and mushy contents of my other meals. 

Running a cold cloth along my face, Skye kneels in front of me, her face painted in sadness.

“How can it hurt so much, Skye, when he wasn’t even mine?” I croak, focusing on the lone tile in our bathroom that doesn’t match the rest of the flooring. 

“I think you’re wrong, he was yours, Ree.”

“I was so close. I fucked up, again,” I weep, my lips collapsing with yet another sob. 

“Don’t say that, don’t,” she insists, tucking her hair behind her studded ear when it goes every which way with the shaking of her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is. She’s so pretty . . Of course she is,” I remember aloud, breathing in quickly before the tears take hold of me once more. Closing my eyes, I reach out for her and let my head rest against her shoulder. 

“She really isn’t, Ree. A big pair of tits doesn’t make you pretty, and anyways, you’re far prettier. He could do much better, like you.”

“You’re just saying that,” I confess, trying to swallow, but my throat has tied itself into knots with the thoughts of him. And when that word falls out of bed inside of my head, I find that it can hurt worse. “I was his Becks, Skye, I thought it was right there. That it was gonna happen for us.”

“Oh, Ree,” she cries, sniffling against my hair when she pulls me against her. “I know, I’m so sorry . . so sorry.”

Nodding into her chest, it feels right as her necklace digs into my wet cheek. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and so does every other part of my body in some way. Somehow I let her bring me back to her bed, and hide me away in her arms. My head swims with questions, then fleeting hatred for him, and inconsolable longing the very next. I shed a tear for his smell, his contagious smile, that Scrabble game we’ll never finish, the churros I’ll never be able to eat again without him ruining them for me, the color of his eyes I could never forget, and the lost feeling of his lips I never got to kiss. The list miles long of things I never got to say to him, or do with him, or make him feel. Because now she does, and she isn’t me. 

“I-I thought . . that he felt the same way about me, and that somehow he knew that I loved him.” 

A whimper escapes Skye’s lips as my tears fall into her neck, adding to the puddle I’ve shed there. 

“What does she have that I don’t? Am I not interesting? Does she have a nicer body than I do? Am I not pretty enough? Was I not nice enough or appreciative of him?” I weep, the questions flowing off my lips from the recesses of my mind. My name greets my ears firmly, but I ignore it. “I was trying to answer his texts when I could, but things got so busy with uni and my dad. All the driving, the tests in both places, and I couldn’t keep dates right in my head. Maybe if I’d texted him back sooner that one time, or made the lunch date on the right day the first time-.”

“Becky, don’t do the ‘ifs’ thing,” Skye urges, pulling the covers further up our shoulders before returning to combing my hair back again and again. 

“But I can’t stop thinking about what went wrong, a-and how much I miss him, Skye. I miss him a hundred times more after seeing that picture,” I reveal, falling into her, my lips meeting her shoulder. My teeth dig into my skin and I let them, numb to the pain as the same word is too busy with my mind. “I don’t know if I ever wanna see him again.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to, I’ll always want to. Like something inside of me will always want him.” 

+

The sunlight streaming in through the windows is the first thing I see when I awake. Ducking my head back under the covers, I pull them over me with a groan. The blissful ignorance of the first few minutes after waking up follows me, until it all comes crashing back. 

“Are you awake?” a voice murmurs, sleep clinging to it. 

“Unfortunately,” I whisper, staring into the muted light underneath the gray covers. 

“I can stay home if you want me to, I was just making some breakfast,” Skye responds, the tapping of her feet along the floor following. 

“No, don’t cancel your hair appointments because of me. I’ll be . . I’ll be fine,” I tell her, but then the tears greet me good morning. 

“Oh, Ree, I’ll cancel and we can watch movies all day, or FRIENDS. Whatever you want,” she announces. The bed falls to one side when she sits on the edge, and I feel her hand find my back. 

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d say that,” I return, turning around and sitting up to dive into her arms. “I was hoping I had dreamt it all and it was just a bad dream. But my life is the bad dream.”

“Oh, Ree,” she coos, surrounding me with her arms. “I know this is cliche and it doesn’t feel like it, but it’ll get better.”

“I don’t know about that. My life is a running joke lately because it feels like it’ll get better, and then it just gets worse.”

+

“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it, Becky?” somebody asks. Looking up from my cupcake, I find the face of Sophie. 

“Yeah, end of next week,” I answer, picking an orange sprinkle from the white frosting to eat.

“Do you have any big plans?” my boss asks as she places her lunch in the microwave. 

“My brother and I hang out every year, we’re twins.”

“Oh, how fun! I remember meeting him once when he brought you lunch one day,” she smiles, turning to face me as she waits in front of the humming microwave. 

I just nod and dip my finger into the frosting, feeling it melt on my tongue a second later. 

“Everything alright, love?”

“Yep, just tired is all,” I fib, taking a bite of the carrot cupcake, although I’m not wrong when I think about it. Skye has been a lifesaver for the last two weeks helping me get back on my feet. Thinking back on it and all of the tears leaves a funny taste in my mouth, but I try to brush it away with a forced smile. 

“How old will you be this year, Becky?” Sophie asks, pulling out a rolling chair to sit to my right at the long table. 

“Good old 26.”

“Wow, still a spring chicken, I’d say,” she comments, bringing a quirky smile to my lips. I almost follow her laugh with mine. “Well you know what, an early birthday present from me is you can have the rest of the day off. You always do a great job, Becky, and so you deserve it.”

“Sophie, I-,” I begin, my jaw falling to the floor. 

“I mean it, go. Get out of here. Go do something that makes you happy, love, it looks like you need to,” she smiles, squeezing my arm from across the table. Standing to my feet, profuse ‘thank yous’ leave my lips before I leave the break room. 

I drive around with my windows down, unsure of where to go instead of home. Before I know it, I find myself walking into my favorite little coffee shop. I’ve always loved to hang out here with a cup, reading a book, doing homework, or just relaxing on one of their sofas. 

Soon, I sit down with a Cubano sandwich and an iced cinnamon roll coffee, my very favorite. Pulling a book out of my work bag, I crack it open to the first page, unable to remember when I last had the time to read a book for fun. The words of Ruth Ware stare back at me, slowly drawing me into a made-up world, and away from the desolate one trying to swallow me. 

Quickly, I’m grateful for the respite from the thoughts mucking up my mind. Instead I lose myself in the sentences that spin a scary story, thanking my old self for stashing something besides a romance in my bag. That’s the last thing I could even think about indulging in right now. For some reason, the mystery entices me, a genre I’ve always had a love for. I think, especially now, it’s the aspect of being able to solve a mystery, and to fix a problem. If only I could do that now, I wish silently with a spiteful snort. 

Placing my empty plate on the return area by the cash register, I return to my cozy spot on the couch and to my book. Losing my fingers in my hair, I prop my head up and open the book to where I had left off. Soft indie music trickles from the speakers as conversations float around me. Several more sofas are dotted around the large room and booths, as well as tables varying in sizes. Friends play board games borrowed from the shelf by the fireplace, and others do schoolwork or actual work. A laugh from behind the counter echos through the room, right as the bell on the front door jingles. Although across the room, I can hear the voices floating in from the sidewalk. Cars honking and birds chirping. The sounds make me itch to leave the air-conditioned room, and bring my reading outside into the June sunshine. 

The words covering the pages root me to the spot, but they can’t protect me from what I hear. It’s a voice that I know inside and out, from the shortened words to the often used words. My vocal cords soon begin to tangle into knots in my throat at the mere noise. Beneath my baby blue blouse, there’s a clobbering in my chest as the voice grows near and then stops. Instinctively, hair falls through my fingers as I lower my head, wishing to remain unseen. Unknown. 

I can’t stop myself, and there I am looking up to see that crinkly-eyed smile through wrenching tears. 

Harry. 

[mcleaha]

hello lovelies ! i’m bøffy , i’m 20 years old , prefer she/her pronouns , and currently reside in the pst timezone ! uhh . . . i am posting this intro at nearly 5 AM my time , and i would be almost willing to bet it’s littered with errors and it’s . . . probably a bit all – over – the – place since this is very much a new muse ! however , with that being said , if you give this a like , i will definitely contact you via tumblr ims or d!scord ( 𝓲𝓷𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓪 / 𝓮𝔁𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓪#1384 ) to plot !

[  jasmine brown  . 21  .  cis female .  she/her  ] just saw MALEAH AMICK dragging their suitcase up the steps to CABIN 1B  .  good luck living with HER  ,  i hear that that they’re INDECISIVE  ,  FORGETFUL ,  SOCIABLE  & CREATIVE  .  Apparently they’re the ATTACKING MIDFIELDER .  let’s hope the upcoming season doesn’t affect their JUNIOR year of ART EDUCATION .

STATS:

name: maleah amick .

nickname(s): leah .

age: twenty one .

gender identity: cis female .

pronouns: she/her .

sexual orientation: bisexual / biromantic .

birthday: 26 february 1999 .

zodiac sign: pisces .

myer-briggs: esfj .

pinterest: coming soon !

HISTORY:

               born on the 26th of february 1999 in orlando , florida , maleah was the youngest of the three amick siblings . her mother worked as a prestigious board – certified pediatric surgeon at a local children’s hospital , and her father worked as a high school mathematics teacher and volunteered as the school’s unpaid soccer coach , a move that saved the program from ending due to budget cuts ( he claims he was roped into the position as a first – year teacher with no seniority , but while he’s reluctant to admit it , he eventually grew a passion for the sport he had previously known little about ) .

               with her mother’s long shifts and emergency work – related calls , she ultimately became closer to her father and two older brothers while growing up . most knew her father as a man who towered over them at 6’7” , ordering his team to run laps or practice drills ; however , maleah knew him as the man who would crawl around the living room floor playing barbies with her or would prepare fruit and herbal teas as she twirled around dressed as a princess , declaring it time for a royal tea party . just as easily , she could be found exploring the great outdoors or playing whatever sport was currently in season alongside her brothers .

               she practically followed in her brothers’ footsteps . as they approached high school , each brother chose one sport to specialize in , hoping to secure a position on a college team and eventually on a professional team . maleah did not have professional athletic goals , but although she had immaculate grades with limited effort put towards academics , she knew extra – curricular activities were important for college applications . thus , when it was maleah’s turn to choose which sport to pursue , rather than having to weigh the pros and cons and make her own decision ( or perhaps , fearing that she would make the wrong decision ) , she simply chose the sport that her brothers had previously chosen : soccer .

               her high school coach knew the perfect position for maleah . years of informal practice with her brothers in the backyard had enhanced her skills . she had learned how to evade skilled high school defenses by pretending as if she was heading in one direction before bolting in the other .  soccer was one of the few areas in life in which she possessed enough knowledge to make quick and effective decisions ; she could read the field and immediately determine the best course of action : dribble , pass , or shoot . ultimately , she possessed the vision and the creativity necessary to secure playmaking and goal-scoring opportunities for her team .

               with a line of college scholarships , both academic and athletic , waiting for the attacking midfielder’s choice ( unfortunately , none from either of the schools her brothers played for ) , the time came for maleah to make a decision . as deadlines for summer practices , class registration , and tuition payments crept closer , she finally determined a means of deciding . she numbered her offer letters , 1 through 13 , and allowed a random number generator to make the decision for her . thus , mere chance ( or perhaps fate ) led maleah to hollis university .

               her first semester at hollis was . . . rough , to put it lightly . while most freshman shed a few tears as they watched their parents’ car drive off into the distance , homesickness lingered in maleah’s life . coasting through high school with limited effort had done her zero favors ; with no effective study skills , her grades dropped dramatically . between soccer and trying to salvage her grade point average , a social life was virtually out of question . ultimately , she found herself on academic probation , unable to play soccer , for her second semester of freshman year at hollis .

               luckily , she was able to develop effective study habits , and even discovered along the way that maybe pre – med was not the best major for her . when asked what she wanted to do , maleah gave an entire list of generic answers – “i want to help people” and “i want to make a difference” came up quite often , but nothing specific enough to point her in the right direction . thus , she changed her major almost every semester , desperately seeking for the right fit . in the meantime , though it took several letters petitioning her temporary removal from the team , she was able to resume playing soccer during her sophomore year .

               as junior year approached , maleah was almost certain that she was back in her coach’s good graces – no longer viewed with a sense of skepticism . she had proven herself capable , finding her name on the dean’s list nearly every semester and assisting her team in numerous wins throughout the soccer season . however , with hollis’ soccer teams’ restructuring , maleah can’t help but question if her coach views her as a valued athlete or a liability .

PERSONALITY:

               two words : social butterfly . almost to a fault . even if someone has expressed quite literally zero interest in talking to her / getting to know her , she will still make an attempt . kind of a . . . people – pleaser , in a sense , she just wants to be well – liked ?

               avoids ! conflict ! at ! all ! costs ! generally just . . . tries to avoid people or situations that upset her . not very prone to like . . . yelling or crying , but those close to her can definitely sense a change in her demeanor when she’s upset ? just . . . a lot more tense , probably lots of eye – rolling and just . . . subtle , quiet signs that she is over whatever the problem is .

               kinda . . . chill , mellow , easygoing ? she very much lives in the moment , and tries not to stress too much about the future . always down for a drink , a party , whatever – genuinely just around for some fun and some friends !!!

               the kind of person who genuinely gets excited over like those fun facts and jokes that are on popsicle sticks and whatnot – absolutely must share the information with everyone within earshot . honestly , those jokes are very . . . on point with her own personal sense of humor jflakdsj .

HEADCANONS:

               she suffers from a terrible case of youngest child syndrome . ultimately , without guidance , she’s terribly irresponsible . she’s always having to run extra laps because she sets her alarm too late to make it to morning practices on time . she’s always receiving overdraft fees for spending more money than is available in her checking account . forgets everything – from homework assignments to names to grabbing her keys before locking the door on her way out . just . . . imagine a child asking for an adult’s help and her looking around until she comes to the realization that “ oh , shit , i am an adult ” .

               she’s practically always doodling – in the corners of notebooks , on napkins while eating lunch , on her clothing , on her own skin . she loves making art , particularly drawing or painting portraits or nature . ( ultimately , she only decided to incorporate this into her choice of major after hollis threatened to not allow any further changes to her major ) .

               she has a . . . unique sense of style . she has a passion for thrifting and upcycling . practically lives in hoodies and t – shirts that she has purchased from secondhand stores and cropped herself . always adding cool iron-on patches to her clothing . she should be listed as your emergency contact if you’re prone to ripping your clothing because she can definitely fix it .

               she probably thinks she’s good at trash-talking on the field , but she actually sounds like a second grader ( and that’s being kind ) . if you looked at her browser history , there’s probably at least one record of her actually googling “ best soccer trash talk ” .

CONNECTIONS:

friends !! friends she’s met through courses throughout her adventures of attempting every major possible , mayhaps soccer friendships that continue off the field , mayhaps that complicated emerging new friendship state for some who are new to hollis ! unlikely friends ! best friends !!! quite literally those unbreakable ride – or – die friendships !

muses !! i feel like every artist needs that little dose of inspiration , even if it’s simply the inspiration of a work – in – progress portrait throughout the duration of camp ! complaints of “ stop moving ! ” and her stopping every ten minutes to ask what they think and probably at some point , her flinging a brush dripping of paint in their direction (if things didn’t end in an all – out paint fight djlfakds ) .

enemies !! honestly i’m sure there is ?? so much ?? potential for this , bt . . . mayhaps someone’s just . . . fed up w her irresponsibility ? thinks she doesn’t take her soccer position seriously ? maybe someone doesn’t think she takes anything seriously ( they wouldn’t be . . . wrong tbh ) . maybe someone from cali takes that “ california vs florida ” feud a little too seriously jflskdja . idk there’s always bound to be personality clashes !

exes !! relationships that ended badly , so she actively tries to avoid them and who even knows what happens when she’s forced to acknowledge their existence at some point at this camp !!! maybe relationships that ended on mutual terms so they’re still p chill with each other ?? maybe ended relationships that never quite got closure so there’s still unresolved feelings !!

hook-ups !! they are . . . college students . they are . . . college students stuck at a camp all summer . idk i feel like this one is pretty self – explanatory jflakds .

honestly i am tired & want to sleep , bt genuinely i am up for & open to anything ! good influences , bad influences , unrequited crushes , requited crushes , idk the world is y(our) oyster !! these are . . . rlly just some ideas to get the whole process started bc i am actually terrible at . . . thinking of plot ideas on the spot . always open to jst . . . doing a thread and seeing how things naturally flow too !