#<- victim of falling in love again with floyd

[jabberwockprince]

Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle (here!) / Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia

I just meant to draw Floyd but it felt illegal to draw him without Jade, so here we are with all of Octavinelle...........

anyway, some rambles about them under the cut bc I have Thoughts and Headcanons :tm:

"Why do Floyd and Jade look less human and more eel-y and fishy than Azul?" cause I love when other species actually look less human </3 It's so lame that the three merfolk we have are nerfed all the time as just normal ass dudes. And beastmen should have toe beans and claws and actual feathers .......

ANYWAY I do like to think that, in-universe, Azul just takes more measures to pass off entirely as a human, less chance of anyone recognizing him from his little chubby baby years and because it looks more "professional" or whatever - but he still has that super cold look to his skin. Jade and Floyd couldn't really care less about passing as regular students, I think they'd find it funny if people kept losing their shit when they see the tweels up close <3

I can also see Jade going back and forth between Azul and Floyd's level of "human accuracy", showing up to class as a Regular Normie Human Entirely and another day just showing off neck gills or whatever - ALL OF THIS JUST TO GASLIGHT PEOPLE LIKE "oh? whatever do you mean???? I don't recall growing scales overnight, are you sure you're not feverish?"

Also also, while studying their cards and faces to see how I wanted to draw them in my style, I realized Azul is like, really pretty. He's not even my type, but he's super pretty, I mean - super long eyelishes, big shiny eyes, really cute angry expressions, he's got a beauty mark on his mouth? And he poses so gracefully all the time? That long strand of hair curls up in a really cute way? I understand why the tweels stick around and tease him a lot, actually. He looks like a lesbian, is what I'm trying to say, whatever that means

No clue what else to say about the tweels, cause most of the differences I like are already canon or heavily implied. BUT I like to think that Floyd's chompers are just big and chonky and Jade's are the thin, needle looking and blade-sharp type that look extremely fucking scary?

#twisted wonderland #twst #octavinelle #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #purinsu art #<- victim of falling in love again with floyd #my artstyle made him too hot hes so AUGH

[unspokenlly]

IDOL AU! (Oshi No Ko AU) - Twisted Wonderland x Reader (Part 1)

(this post was inspired by @merakiui 's idol!darling au!)

[ reader is female ]

i'm not sure if anyone has heard of this manga (soon to be anime), but it's called Oshi No Ko! it involves an idol named Ai Hoshino who is a talented and beautiful idol (with starry eyes). however, she struggles with love as she herself has never loved nor has been 'loved' (this isn't a spoiler as it had been shown in the sypnosis before, but she was also pregnant with twins at the age of 16). she also says that a 'lie' or lying is a form of love as well which bring the thought of..

Idol! darling who is like Ai Hoshino. she is an exceptional idol who catches the hearts of many, alluring many with her eyes. however, she struggles to actually love despite saying she loves her fans. she dreams of wanting to love and wants her happiness to be true. imagine, twst cast getting their hearts captured by her charismatic self, but there are those who are also wary of her once they come to know that she has a (lot of) secret(s)..

i imagine a lot of twst cast would discover her secret but i'll just narrow it down to a few characters for now and give my two cents about them!

characters involved: azul, idia, vil, mentions of rook, riddle, cater, floyd, jade

warning: themes of yandere, teenage pregnancy, blackmail, stalkerish behaviours.

azul, who discovers there was something about her and the way she brings herself up. she was definitely talented. a beauty. someone who would be a great asset to future investments and businesses.. but what's this? he discovers that she's not what she seems to be? she's an idol made up of lies. who wears a mask of a perfect idol, to become the embodiment of pure? and a mother too? to twins? how very interesting! once azul discovers this and uses it against idol!darling, he thought he'd be able to use it as a means to pull her into a contract (blackmail) but instead, she smiles? 

"Oh, that's quite troublesome! Hehe, I guess you discovered that part of me, huh? Well.. yes, lying is morally and socially unacceptable but.." The way her eyes stared right into his, irises that twinkled like the stars above and orbs drawn like a glyph.. "In the eyes of many, idols are creatures who shine as bright as the cosmos, who love and are loved…" Oh, sevens. 

".. And I am an idol. Lying is a form of love too. An idol like me who's at the very top will keep on lying again and again so I can keep everyone from the stage happy!" Azul unknowingly gulped a bile from his throat, watching the idol who shined as if she was on the stage performing in front of him. 

"Still though.. For you to discover that I'm actually a mother… It's kinda depressing that the secret is out of the bag, but… no matter what, I'll still do whatever it takes to continue being an idol! I still haven't achieved my dream of being happy.. I'm quite greedy, after all."

And he was completely entranced. a victim to a siren's calls, except this one was made up of lies. 

for idia, i imagine the aspect he liked about her was her eyes the most. her cute disposition and how refreshing her personality was. even though she was a bit childish, there was something about her that was not at all childish. so when he found out she wasn't actually what she seemed to be, he thought he was gonna be repulsed by her 'fakeass' but it turns out he found himself falling for her more. like a character from a tragedy-tagged story, there was so much depth to her that he was just itching to find. 

idia was a genius. he can use any means to find her secrets. hacking into streets cameras to stalk her, finding out so many things about her that even fans wouldnt know but most of all… her biggest secret. for now though, he was satisfied. he had bought several merchandise of her to her lightsticks, mugs and even standee and perhaps, for now those were enough to keep him occupied of his growing love for her.

there was something about idol!darling that vil found himself suspicious about… he was in the shooting of a film, and there was darling who was casted as a side character for the movie. at first, he admits she was beautiful, even more so than the main protagonist of the film. so when he approached her out of pure curiousity and because of the memories of a certain hunter practically raving about an idol who caught his eye, he wasnt suprised (yet mildly disappointed) to find out that despite her beauty, her personality was unpolished. she spoke with no professionalism whatsoever. a bumpkin like epel.

however, she was a joyful one who always had a smile on. but that wasn't the biggest aspect of her whole person. she was like a present. waiting to be unwrapped to reveal what's inside. he felt that she had layers on her that she hid, but he didnt mind. idols, celebrities, the showbiz industry was like that after all. however, idol!darling was someone who shone with those layers. layers of appealing gift wrapping. and vil wondered if those lovely, hidden truths of hers will show what she truly is one day. would she still be shining like a star? as lovely as what everyone makes her out to be?

it's questions like those that left vil pondering if this were the thoughts that ran through rook's head as he sang poems and verses about the 'idol who was the reincarnation of the first star', never missing a concert or event that involved her. he wanted to scoff at himself, and perhaps blame rook for talking his ear off about this bumpkin of an idol. but who could blame vil when idol!darling is just so lovely.

riddle who became interested in idol!darling after he saw a few of his dormmates doing those strange dances to a video of an idol on-screen who was singing. after telling his dormmates off, he became curious at this idol with stars in her eyes rather than her music and performance. no, it was her own self that he became curious about. the following days after watching several videos about her and listening to her music, he started humming her songs while reviewing or stare long at his phone while wearing a set of earphones while he was sitting in the courtyard… alone, he thought until cater discovers him. cater, who had become a fan of idol!darling for a long time and had bought tickets for her upcoming concert. 

cater, who discovered the cute idol from his recommendations as his playlist was playing high-streamed music. who became fond of her for her appearances in entertainment shows or live audience games. her 'charming' personality that captured his heart. he would invite riddle and trey to the concert as he won an extra set of tickets for himself and his club members!

floyd and jade, who fell in love with her at first sight for her, well, everything! ever since they discovered her and came to know more about her thru those concerts they attend and videos they stream and watch,...there was something about her that they just oh so want to pick apart, but couldn't! her declarations of love always left a stuffy feeling in their heart.. in a dark, twisted, way. why, she is just so, so, lovely.. they never missed a show! never. even if it meant making a deal with azul for work. but nowadays, it seems they didnt even have to do so for azul would go with them to those events!

THIS TOOK ME ABOUT 3 HRS TO MAKE INCLUDING THE HEADERS AND BANNERS, THIS HAD BEEN IN MY HEAD EVER SINCE OSHI NO KO TRAILER CAME OUT and because the song 'Idol' by Yoasobi had come out (unofficially in Youtube). if you guys have any thoughts about this, feel free to send an Ask!

this is just part 1 of the au.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #idia shroud x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #cater diamond x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #idol au!twst #oshi no ko!?au #enlly brainrot #enlly in twst

[thesunshineriptide]

Twst Headcanons: They get sent to your dimension (part 1 - Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle)

Characters: Riddle, Trey, Leona, Ruggie, Azul, Jade, and Floyd

Tw// vomit, depression, existential crisis, mild body horror, swearing

(Part 2 - beginnings)

Crowley had found a way to send you home. It was sappy, and wizard-of-oz-y, but it was near sure fire.

Alice had once come and gone from a looking glass, but only after her friends of wonderland let her go. And surely, your friends would want what’s best for you, right?

The love you gave to night Raven college touched many loves - you defeated seven overblots, after all, and saved lives over and over again. So the best way they could thank you would be to give you what you wanted after all this time.

Crowley organized it fairly formally. There was a party, courtesy of Kalim’s insistence, followed by unveiling a large mirror and having you stand before it. You were told to think of home - your family, your life before twisted wonderland - and once you had the picture in your mind, a spell was cast to lock it in so you wouldn’t get lost on your way home.

After that, a procession began. It started with the dorm leaders coming to thank you, then the vice dorm leaders (or pseudo vice dorm leaders, and Floyd), and then began your closer friends. The power of so many powerful magic users was enough to get the mirror powered, glowing brightly a shining silver.

Grim was next in line. He looked heartbroken, and almost angry. He said he was happy for you - he didn’t need a henchman, he was the Great Grim and he could do fine on his own. But he hadn’t come to terms with what was going on. Not until that very moment in line.

“I don’t want you to go, (Y/N)! What will I do without you? I’m your family too, right? Stay!”

The mirror pulsated - in a single breath, Grim had messed up the spell. Before you had time to even respond, a burst of energy rushed forth from the mirror.

And as soon as the light faded and the screams died off, everyone looked up in horror to realize what happened.

You were gone…but so were they

Riddle:

* Riddle was first in line to say goodbye. As the first overblot, and a dorm leader, and a close friend, he wanted you to know he supported your decision to go home.

* What he didn’t expect was Grim’s declaration, nor the tug at his chest that followed

* Suddenly, he was falling. He felt something he couldn’t describe leave him, dissipate into the air. It felt like the opposite of the overblot, and he hated it.

* He would have screamed if it hadn’t stopped as suddenly as it had started, and suddenly he was laying on the floor, dizzy, and having a hard time focusing on his surroundings.

* He immediately tried to sit up, only to pass out again.

* He’s out like a light, man, dude hasn’t slept in three days to begin with and now? He’s drained. Portals are exhausting

* When he does wake up, it’s to Trey shaking him gently

* “Riddle? Are you alive?”

* The room is oddly quiet, but Riddle realizes it’s because they’re alone in this room.

* Wait, who’s room is this?

* A child’s, maybe? There’s a lot of plushies…

* No, wait, he remembers-

* Wait, IS THIS YUU’S ROOM?

* What happened???? Trey??? Explain???

* Upon finding out he’s stuck in a world with no magic by talking to you, he’s gonna try his signature spell

* Everyone else is going to groan, snicker, or sit silently as they watch him

* “It’s okay, Goldfishie, performance issues are nothing to be ashamed of.”

* “Floyd, I swear on the seven, when we get back, I’ll have your head.”

* “Kinky.”

* He is NOT happy about being in a different world, Yuu, please help him

* Once he has everything explained to him a little better, he’s headed for your bookshelf

* He may also ask you for a cup of tea

* He might/can/will start cleaning your house if it’s not in order

* “This is not a proper way to live, Y/N. According to th-“

Trey:

* Victim number two was standing a couple inches behind Riddle when the portal sucked them in, and somehow managed not to pass out during the ride.

* However, he did see the inside of a wormhole and suddenly popped out the other side in a different world, so maybe passing out is a blessing.

* When he came out the other side, he caught himself during his landing and stumbled a few feet forward. Before he really had a good chance to look at his surroundings he heard screams coming closer from behind him, saw Riddle laying passed out on the floor, and worked as fast as possible to pull him out of the landing zone.

* Which was a good call, because soon after a pile of 6’ft tall guys landed right about there.

* He helped untangle the mess of limbs in a pile on the floor and took stock of everyone.

* Alright so there’s riddle, Leona, him, the twins, Azul, rook and vil, Jamil and Kalim, Idia, malleus and Lillian, Ruggie, aaaand…

* You! There you are.

* So…this is your home? Interesting.

* He’ll take stock of everything he sees, because he’s currently in survival mode.

* This isn’t the first time NRC students have been stuck in a different world, he knows how this works by now-

* Oh, hey, you look sick. Here, sit down, and - is this cup okay to use? Okay, cool, one second, I’ll fill it.

* Huh

* Wait…

* He tries to fill the cup with cold water using his magic. He doesn’t know where your kitchen is, after all, and…

* Huh.

* His magic isn’t working.

* And now that he’s thinking about it, some of the guys did look…different.

* Right, this is a world without magic.

* Okay.

* Right.

* Cool

* Don’t panic, Trey, it’s fine

* If you could get to their world without magic, then it’s possible for them to get back, right?

* Right?

Leona:

* Leona isn’t quite sure what happened, he just remembers that one second he’s saying goodbye, then he’s in pain, then he wakes up somewhere unfamiliar and feels weird.

* Everything somehow sounds both quieter and louder at the same time, and all his joints feel achy

* Overall, he feels like he was hit by a bus, and tries to go back to that sticky sleep state he was in before.

* And then he feels something weird.

* Someone’s pinching his ear.

* But…that’s not where his ear is supposed to be.

* “Herbivore? What the fuc-“

* He opens his eyes and is face to face with Yuu, who is staring at him like he’s grown three heads

* “(Y/N), what are you doi-“

* Why are you holding his mouth open

* What the fuck

* Why are you- are you touching his teeth?!

* “Leona, I have bad news.”

* Upon hearing that all his lion traits are gone, he’s flipping his absolute shit.

* Excuse me?! Yuu?! Fix this. Now

* Oh, and we’re stranded in a different world without magic? Great job. He should have left you stranded in his world instead.

* He’s gonna need a minute to cool off.

* It’s best to approach next time with something to eat, and hold it out as far as possible

* He may not have fangs anymore but he will still bite you.

Ruggie:

* Ruggie takes everything surprisingly well.

* See, at first he’s pretty freaked out.

* His body is different than before and he’d really like for it to go back to normal, please

* He’s checking over himself in the mirror to see what’s missing and what stayed.

* He doesn’t appreciate anyone commenting on it

* But once he’s done freaking out, he starts asking questions about your world.

* Turns out your world isn’t that different. Even though there’s no magic, it’s not all that different from where he’s from

* So with a few books, some snacks, a few dollars, and a nap, he’s good to go.

* If he’s gonna be here for a while, and it’s pretty safe to assume that they’re not gonna be back in a bit, he wants to immediately ingratiate himself to you

* He’s not even really worried about the magic part. He never really relied on it anyway

* Oh, look, you have some laundry. Let him take care of that, Y/n, it’s no problem, really. Isn’t it nice to have someone help with chores? And he can make some food for cheap.

* His ability to take it in stride is almost entirely because for the first day he assumes it’s a dream.

* Day three he has a bit of a breakdown

* After his breakdown he starts acting a little more normal, again

Azul:

* The screaming everyone heard in the portal was mostly him.

* He’s seeing universe after universe, timeline after timeline, colors that don’t exist, and it’s scaring the piss out of him

* He’s another one who didn’t pass out, but he’s clinging to Jade like his life depends on it (it may have, if he kept flailing he might have ended up in a different universe)

* Meanwhile Jade just has a surprised pikachu face the entire time

* When they finally get through the portal, the fish mafia end up puppy-piling on the floor, with Azul stuck between Jade and Floyd.

* Unfortunately Floyd is unconscious and on the top.

* Trey, you’re his savior, he owes you.

* He’s finally on his feet, and his legs are shaking beneath him

* He looks like he’s gonna throw up. He thinks he may have seen god.

* His glasses are also missing, now.

* They might have been left behind in the multiverse.

* He’s catatonic for a solid twenty minutes, mumbling to himself while curled in a ball, staring at the floor.

* Nobody can get his attention until eventually he calms down enough to snap out of it.

* Trey is handing him a bottle of water, telling him to drink.

* He does

* He has to rush to the bathroom, because he couldn’t keep it down

* The minute someone else is around, he’s trying to act normal and like it doesn’t bother him

* “Oh? Well, we went to the land of the dead, this is nothing?”

* He’s lying, it’s a lot.

* He realizes, sometime in this, that his glasses are missing.

* He tried to summon them

* He is confused and alarmed when he can’t.

* He keeps trying. He looks like he’s snapping a beat

* He is literally going to have an ulcer if he can’t get a handle on this situation.

* Please, god, why doesn’t he have his magic.

* Oh….oh! Nobody does

* It makes him feel a little better, in a sick way, that nobody else has magic.

* He’s still anxious though.

* Please make him sit down. Cover him with a bunch of blankets or something he cannot handle this.

Jade:

* Jade has a pretty thick skin, yknow? But…

* Okay, yeah, this is a little much

* He’s not really one to express emotion to begin with, so his reaction that seems impassive is really just him being surprised

* He’s still processing what Grim said when he’s falling through a portal

* He’s processing the fact that Azul is clinging to his arm, and Floyd has him by the ankle, and that he’s falling in a portal to another world by the time they land

* His face isn’t totally shocked, but more…frozen?

* He’s can’t really identify what he’s feeling. It’s not scared, anxious, or angry. He isn’t happy, nor sad, but it’s something else…

* Wait, hold on, his mouth feels weird.

* Huh.

* His teeth are different.

* Okay, interesting.

* Oh look, Azul is having an existential crisis.

* And Floyd is passed out.

* Alright.

* He isn’t really responding because he wants more information, so as soon as he’s up his face is blank again.

* He’ll help out with whatever he can in the same way that Trey is, but he’s also completely content to leave everyone lying on the floor.

* He’s watching and listening to everyone’s reactions before he’s allowing himself to make his own.

* But also, you probably won’t see it.

* It’s not until late at night when he thinks everyone’s asleep that he finally lets his facade drop. He’s contemplating everything and he thinks Floyd is asleep again when he feels a tap on his shoulder

* It’s Floyd.

* And on his other side, there’s you.

* “Are you okay?”

* He’s a little choked up, but he just nods silently.

* “Do you wanna go for a walk? There’s a forest not far from here, I can drive you over and wait until you’re done if you need some time to think.”

* Floyd is staring at him knowingly, and Jade nods again, mumbling something like ‘that would be appreciated’

* Nobody knows what happened that night. Not even you do. But Jade came back with a clear head, so it doesn’t matter much.

Floyd:

* Floyd was honestly a little pissed at Grim

* He likes Shrimpy too, but they want to go home, so we should let ‘em.

* When he feels something pulse behind him, he doesn’t get a clear look.

* He’s also screaming, but his screams are somewhere between delight and fear.

* He’s grabbing onto Jade’s ankle to keep them from separating as they fall.

* Once he’s through the portal, he lands face first on top of Jade and Azul, unconscious. He may have hit his head.

* When he first wakes up, he notices his mouth feels different too.

* He also immediately notices Jade standing four feet away and whispering with Trey

* He then notices Azul rocking in a corner, Riddle passed out with a pillow under his head, Leona without his fluffy ears, and Ruggie following You around like a lost puppy.

* He’s not really panicking yet because the fact they’re in a different world separated from their own hasn’t set it

* But let’s be honest, this is pretty fun

* An adventure! With his brother and his takoyaki and his Shrimpy and a few others!

* Maybe this world is more fun?

* So he’s up, wandering around, looking through your stuff.

* He 100% tries on one of your shirts and decides it’s his now.

* He also lays in your bed and reads anything of yours that seems personal

* Letters, diary, postcards, legal documents, whatever.

* “Koebi-Chan? I didn’t know that you liked this~”

* “FLOYD PUT THAT DOWN”

* He also spends his time immediately getting on Riddle’s nerves as soon as he’s awake (see: Riddle’s)

* Once he does realize he’s separate from home, he’s in a dark mood, but he’s more thoughtful than anything. He’s thinking about the things he’s gonna miss, how they could get home, if there’s any way to just see Twisted Wonderland, if there’s something he could do to get his favorite things here.

* Overall he’s not pressed though. He does make Leona play one-on-one basketball though.

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts #jade leech #floyd leech #octatrio #octavinelle #heartslabyul #trey clover #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #savanaclaw #twst au #reader insert #romantic or platonic #headcanon #twst headcanons #our world au #twst our world au

[best-of-basslines]

Song Masterpost

[I was planning on linking all the songs to versions on Youtube, but apparently it goes over the number of links allowed on a post. Instead, the songs will be linked on each poll.]

Talk Talk - "It's My Life"

Kajagoogoo - “Too Shy”

The Beach Boys - “Good Vibrations”

Rush - “New World Man”

Cream - “Spoonful”

The Police - “Message in a Bottle”

Jackson 5 - “I Want You Back”

Diana Ross - “I’m Coming Out”

Diana Ross and the Supremes - “What Becomes of the Brokenhearted”

The Supremes - “You Can’t Hurry Love”

The Jam - “Town Called Malice”

David Essex - “Rock On”

Radiohead - “15 Step” | “Paranoid Android”

Michael Jackson - “Thriller” | “Billie Jean”

Elton John - “Dirty Little Girl”

Angra - “Nothing to Say”

Serú Girán - “La Grase de las Capitales”

Os Mutantes - “Ando Meio Desligado”

Bill Withers - “Lovely Day”

Blur - “Girls and Boys”

Sly and the Family Stone - “Thank You (Falettinme be Mice Elf Again)”

Charles Wright and the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band - “Express Yourself”

Jr. Walker and the All Stars - “(I’m a) Road Runner”

Marvin Gaye - “I Heard it through the Grapevine” | “Midnight Lady”

Marvin Gaye and Tammi Tarrell - “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”

Red Hot Chili Peppers - “Higher Ground” | “Snow (Hey Oh)” | “Give It Away”

Primus - “My Name is Mud” | “Is it Luck?” | “Lacquer Head”

Beck - “Go It Alone”

The Fabs - “That’s the Bag I’m In”

The Shapes - “College Girls”

Herbie Hancock - “Chameleon”

Pink Floyd - “Money”

Rasputina - “Secret Message”

Madonna - “Material Girl”

Was (Not Was) - “Walk the Dinosaur”

Lemon Demon - “Jaws”

Creedence Clearwater Revival - “Have You Ever Seen the Rain?”

Steve Miller Band - “The Joker”

Violent Femmes - “Blister in the Sun”

War - “Low Rider”

Poppy - “Motorbike”

Tokyo Jihen (Tokyo Incidents) - “Noudouteki”

Graham Central Station- “Hair”

Oingo Boingo - “Dead Man’s Party”

Vulf Peck - “Deantown”

Iroha (feat. Rin Kagamine) - “Meltdown”

Labi Siffre - “I Got The…”

Deep Purple - “Space Truckin’”

The Breeders - “Cannonball”

Earth Wind and Fire - “Let’s Groove”

Parliament - “Give Up the Funk”

Liquid Liquid - “Cavern”

Melle Mel - “White Lines (Don’t Do It)”

Tiger Army - “Cupid’s Victim”

Limp Bizkit - “Nookie”

White Zombie - “Black Sunshine”

Alice in Chains - “Rooster”

Pearl Jam - “Daughter”

Norah Jones - “Cold Cold Heart”

Joy Division - “Transmissions” | “Disorder”

Metallica - “Orion”

Anthrax - “Caught in a Mosh”

Muse - “Hysteria” | “Plug in Baby” | “Futurism”

Arctic Monkeys - “Fake Tales of San Francisco” | “A Certain Romance” | “Dancing Shoes”

Bauhaus - “Double Dare” | “Kick in the Eye”

Chic - “Good Times” | “Everybody Dance”

Royal Blood - “Better Strangers”

Fleetwood Mac - “The Chain”

Iron Maiden - “Aces High”

The Damned - “Neat Neat Neat”

The Smiths - “Barbarism Begins at Home”

New Order - “Age of Consent”

Talking Heads - “Psycho Killer”

Romeo Void - “Never Say Never”

Cocteau Twins - “The Hollow Men”

Rage Against the Machine - “Killing in the Name” | “Bulls on Parade”

Dance Gavin Dance - “Don’t Tell Dave”

Queen - “Another One Bites the Dust” | “Dragon Attack”

Gorillaz - “Feel Good Inc.”

Megadeth - “Peace Sells”

Korn - “Got the Life”

Pantera - “Cowboys from Hell”

Queen + David Bowie - “Under Pressure”

Stevie Wonder - “Superstition”

Shiina Ringi - “Koufukuron (Etsuraku-hen)”

The Temptations - “My Girl”

Paramore - “Ain’t it Fun”

Måneskin - “For Your Love”

The Seatbelts - “Tank!”

Cake - “The Distance”

Gloria Gaynor - “I Will Survive”

Miles Davis - “Bitches Brew”

The Fall - “I Feel Voxish”

Public Image Ltd - “Swan Lake (Death Disco)”

Thelma Houston - “Don’t Leave Me This Way”

Killdozer - “King of Sex”

The Beatles - “Hey Bulldog” | “I Want You (She’s so Heavy)” | “Lady Madonna” | “Dear Prudence” | “I Will”

Wings - “Silly Love Songs”

Lou Reed - “Walk on the Wild Side”

White Stripes - “Seven Nation Army”

Gang of Youths - “Achilles Come Down”

AJR - “Sober Up”

Duran Duran - “Rio”

The Who - “Baba O’Riley” | “Getting in Tune”

Yes - “Roundabout”

Led Zeppelin - “Ramble On” | “Dazed and Confused”

The Cure - “Lovesong” | “The Lovecats”

#not a bassline poll #blog update #song masterpost

[m34gs]

Tell us your yandere pairings since you know at least one of mine.

Lol, you really want to know, friend? Alright. I'll tell you. I'd like to preface this with: "Any ship can be a Yandere Ship, if you just believe in it". Hahaha. Truthfully though, I have a lot of ships where I would love to see them portrayed in the Yandere light. It's such an interesting dynamic, and it really explores the darker side of love and devotion in a way that is so...thrilling. You know I love that exploration of the darker side of humans. Horror has so much of that, lol. I really enjoy looking at what could push someone to the breaking point, what could make them snap. And do they continue in the downward spiral or do they drag themselves out of it by their fingernails? Does a victim keep being a victim, or do they turn around and become what they need to in order to survive? What does that look like? There are so many different ways to survive...which one will they choose, and why???? I absolutely love that focus on the darkest parts of people and I find it fascinating.

That being said, I'm also fine with a lot of the yandere pairings I like being portrayed in different ways.

Anyway, not to keep you waiting! Let's get into it.

Floyd Leech/Yuu(mc) from Twisted Wonderland. Let me tell you, I think Floyd would be such a fun yandere. He has the self-centered kind of attitude, and he already seems to gravitate toward his 'Shrimpy'...plus he has teeth. Sharp teeth. I like to think he would enjoy biting his "Shrimpy" and putting marks on them that scar and never disappear.

Jade Leech/Azul Ashengrotto from Twisted Wonderland. This pairing is one where I think they both are yandere for each other. I think it could be fun, seeing the ways they would try to 'outdo' each other in terms of trying to manipulate, control, and 'protect' the other. Lots of mind games in this one. Very interesting dynamic to play with.

Amaimon/Rin from Blue Exorcist. This is a ship I like experimenting with. While Bon/Rin is my favourite pairing overall (and I really love the concept of Big Brother Amaimon secretly doting on Rin), AmaiRin is so interesting. Once again, Amaimon is a self-centered demon who takes what he wants, but Rin is no pushover. I imagine a lot of what would draw Amaimon to him is Rin's determination and fight. I think Amaimon would want to see exactly how far he could push Rin before he breaks. Sadly, I do think that if Rin breaks, Amaimon is more likely to toss him aside, since he would be bored of him...but there is always that little side of me that is like "But what if...he breaks him and then he just keeps him, like some sort of treasure locked away forever?" And it makes me want to write to see what would happen to make Amaimon have that kind of change of mind.

Homura/Madoka from Puella Magi Madoka Magica; specifically the third movie (Rebellion). Homura literally rips a piece of Madoka off to keep her with her. Like, rips off a piece of her spirit. Does it get any more yandere than that? Plus, I love the entire Madoka series, especially Homura's descent into madness.

Dabi/Shinsou from My Hero Academia. Yeah. Dabi/Shinsou rises from the depths once more. I know in my one fic I have them written more as equals, but in my heart of hearts, I am intrigued by Dabi being a yandere. I wanna know, would he internalize his father's abuse to the degree that he believes all heroes are evil? Would he consider what he's doing to Shinsou a favour, when he locks him away, and keeps him trapped? Would he be able to draw the connection between abusive 'punishments' he gives Shinsou, and the way Dabi himself has suffered? Or would he just keep falling into darkness....?

There you go, some of my favourite yandere ships! But as I said, any ship can be yandere if you believe. Yes, even the wholesome ones. Just...give them a little twist. :D

#asks #friends #yandere ships #yandere #blue exorcist #twisted wonderland #madoka magica #Floyd leech/yuu #Jade Leech/Azul Ashengrotto #Amaimon/Rin #Homura/Madoka #Dabi/Shinsou #mha #bnha

[englishstrawbie]

Serendipity (38/?)

Fandom: Station 19, Grey’s Anatomy

Characters: Maya Bishop & Carina DeLuca

Summary: A chance meeting at a bar leads to these two idiots falling in love. Follows canon and fills in the gaps of their relationship that we didn’t get to see on screen.

Also @ AO3. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Fratellino

But in all the sadness, when you’re feeling that your heart is empty, and lacking, You’ve got to remember that grief isn’t the absence of love. Grief is the proof that love is still there. - Tessa Shaffer

The room is pitch black, as one would expect at almost four o’clock in the morning. Not even a sliver of light from the outside world makes its way into the bedroom. Carina lies on her back, staring up into the darkness. Her head hasn’t stopped pounding since Owen and Teddy delivered the news of her brother’s death, despite the double dose of Tylenol she took when they got home. It is not just her head that hurts: her shoulders ache from being so tense; her back is sore from sitting around for most of the day – in the car, at the hospital, by his bed; her legs have that weird restless leg syndrome, like she could run for miles even though she is zapped of energy; and there is a tingling in her hands and feet that won’t go away no matter how many times she curls her fists and toes.

She sighs heavily into the silence. Beside her, Maya sleeps peacefully, a soft snore escaping from her every now and again. Carina is envious that she is able to sleep so easily when it evades her.

Andrew has been dead for five hours.

She keeps thinking about how she has to live the rest of her life without him, hundreds of thousands of hours without her baby brother in the world.

It can’t be real, and yet the pain in her heart tells her that it is true.

She waits for another hour to pass before she gives up on sleeping and slides out of the bed, pulling a sweater over her head and padding out into the apartment. She sits on one of the chairs, her feet curled up beneath her, and pulls a blanket over her legs. She turns on the television and flicks through the channels. She has never watched tv at this time of the morning and settles on a home renovation show. Not that she is really watching it; she is too tired to concentrate and her vision keeps blurring as her eyes grow tired from the glare of the screen.

She drifts off for ten, maybe twenty minutes. It is an uncomfortable sleep, her chin resting on her shoulder, and when she wakes her neck hurts from the funny angle. She rubs it gently, but it provides little relief.

She should make a list, she thinks, of all the things that need to be done. Bailey promised that he would stay in the hospital morgue until a funeral home could collect him, sparing him the indignity of being just another body in the make-shift morgue they had to build for their Covid victims. There would be no service, except for her and Maya perhaps, to say goodbye.

He wants to be cremated, she knows that. He hates the fuss of a traditional Catholic funeral, finds them long and tedious and too sad.

“I want to go out with a party, where everyone smiles and laughs because I lived instead of crying because I died,” he said once, not long after they buried Mama.

He wants Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here played instead of the usual hymns. Carina thinks she should do a reading of the same poem that she read at Mama’s funeral. She will have to organise for it to be streamed online so that Papa and their family in Italy can watch it, which means making sure she gets the time difference right.

There will be no wake to organise, no memories will be shared. She will mourn alone.

A light at the other end of the hallway captures her attention and she looks up just as Maya emerges, pulling a robe around her body as she walks towards her.

“Hey,” Maya says softly, leaning down and pressing her lips against Carina’s hair before sitting in the empty chair next to her. “Did you manage to sleep at all?”

“A little,” Carina lies, twisting her body towards her. “I was just thinking about all the things I need to do to plan his funeral.”

Her voice shakes, full of disbelief that she even has to say these words out loud.

“I can help you with that,” Maya says. “You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

Carina musters up a small smile, grateful to have Maya by her side in all this. Maya reaches into her pocket and pulls out Carina’s cell phone, holding it out to her.

“It started buzzing about ten minutes ago,” she says. “I think people have started to hear about Andrew.”

Carina takes it from her and looks down at the sea of familiar names on the screen. Jackson, Jo, Maggie, Link, Schmitt. She doesn’t bother to open them, she knows what they will say.

She still needs to tell Papa but that is a conversation she isn’t ready to have right now.

“Shall I make you some breakfast?” Maya says.

Carina shakes her head. “I’m not hungry,” she says, even though it has been twenty-four hours since her last meal. “I could do with some more Tylenol though.”

She watches as Maya goes into the kitchen to pour her a fresh glass of water and retrieve the packet of pills from the counter. Carina pops two into her mouth and swallows them, then gulps down the rest of the water. She knows her body is dehydrated, which probably isn’t helping her headache.

“How about we curl up on the couch, see if you’ll sleep a bit more?” Maya suggests.

Carina doesn’t have the energy to object. She doesn’t really know what to do with herself anyway, so she nods, letting Maya take her hand and lead her to the couch. Maya plumps the cushions – not that they need it – and brings over a selection of berries and pastries on a plate.

“Just in case your appetite comes back,” she says, and Carina knows it is her way of taking care of her.

Maya stretches out on the sofa and Carina curls up beside her, wedged under Maya’s arm against the back of the couch. Maya pulls a blanket over them, thick and fluffy to keep them warm. The newly plumped cushions are soft and Carina feels herself becoming drowsy. Maya’s hand strokes her hair, the slow rhythm lulling her towards sleep.

It is somewhere between being awake and being asleep that her brain turns off its defence mechanism and her body and mind are hit with pain and loss all over again.

‘Stop,’ she wants to say. ‘Please don’t.’

But there is nothing she can do to stop the wave of grief from crashing over her. She doesn’t get the words out before her body convulses and a sob escapes from deep in her chest, echoing around the apartment. It takes Maya by surprise and she jolts awake from the near slumber she was in.

“Oh Carina,” she says, her voice oozing sympathy.

She tightens her arm around her, her other hand stroking her face, wiping the tears that cascade down her cheeks.

“I know.”

She doesn’t know. She still has her brother. They might be estranged, but he is out there somewhere and she has hundreds of thousands of hours left of her life to get to know him again. Carina doesn’t have that any more.

She cries until her eyes run dry and her chest hurts. Every part of her body is screaming out in pain and she needs it to subside, just for a little while so that she can get some rest but her head betrays her the moment she gets too comfortable.

Maya’s embrace is too warm, too comfortable, too soft, so she extracts herself from under her arm.

“I’m going to shower,” she announces abruptly.

“Okay,” Maya says, sitting up and dropping her feet to the floor so that Carina can shuffle around her.

She leaves her cell phone behind, already annoyed by the constant messages. She knows she should be touched by the outpouring of sympathy but she can’t cope with other people’s grief on top of her own right now.

Once in the shower, she washes yesterday’s trauma from her body, removing every trace of blood and sweat that may have lingered. She dresses in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, letting her wet hair hang limply around her shoulders, not caring about her appearance.

When she finally emerges, Maya is at the stove, scrambling eggs in a pan. Two pieces of bread pop from the toaster and she puts the simple meal together, placing it on the table and looking expectantly at Carina, hoping she will eat something.

Carina feels a child-like petulance growing inside of her, unwilling to do what she is told, but she knows that if – no, when – the roles were reversed, she did the same for Maya. She sits obediently at the table and tucks into the food. The toast is dry and the eggs are too salty (or so she tells herself) but she swallows a few mouthfuls to appease her girlfriend.

Maya’s own empty plate sits on the side and she grabs two mugs of coffee, placing them on the table and sitting down beside her.

“Is there anything you want to do today?” she asks.

Carina’s shoulders drop. “I should call my dad, but I… I don’t know what to say.”

“What if we went for a walk?” Maya says. “Get some fresh air, it might help clear your head and help you sleep?”

“Maybe,” Carina says non-committedly.

She doesn’t like the thought of bumping into anyone they know, of someone asking how they are in polite conversation and having to tell them that her brother is dead.

Murdered.

“I really should call the funeral home and make plans,” Carina says, a small frown on her face. “They’re busy and I don’t want him to have to wait.”

Her voice catches in her throat as she talks and she feels the few mouthfuls of eggs she has just eaten threatening to make their way back up. It is stupid, it is not like Andrew is going to know, but she knows and she wants to do right by him in his death, even if she couldn’t do right by him in his life.

Because that is what she keeps thinking. She failed him, she didn’t keep him safe like a big sister should do.

“Okay,” Maya says, reaching into the cupboard behind her and pulling out a notepad and pen. “Let’s make a list.”

Maya jots down all the things that Carina has thought about – the songs to play, the poems to read, and the memories for his eulogy. She writes down the names of all the people who need to be told and their contact details so that a link to the live stream can be shared at the right time. Maya scans her phone for the names of some local funeral homes, Carina picking out the ones she knows are good.

Carina picks up her cell phone to call the one at the top of the list, but her hands are shaking too much and tears prick her eyes. Maya places her hand over hers.

“You don’t have to do this today, it can wait until tomorrow.”

Carina nods dumbly. She knows she won’t be able to get the words out today, it is hard enough to think it let alone say it out loud.

“Maybe a walk would be a good idea,” she concedes.

Before they can make a plan, there is a knock on the door. Maya squeezes her hand, then stands and grabs a face mask from the pile they keep on the console table, hooking it over her ears. She opens the door just a little so that Carina can’t see who it is.

Carina hears the murmur of voices and eventually Maya steps back to let their visitor into the apartment. Amelia steps inside, a bag of junk food from the grocery store in each hand. She walks straight over to the table and drops them unceremoniously on the table.

“I know we’re in the middle of a pandemic and I’m not supposed to hug you, but I took a Covid test and it was negative, so I’m going to anyway,” she says.

Her short stature means she doesn’t have to lean down too far to envelope Carina in a hug. She smells of baby powder and it brings a small smile to Carina’s face. She responds by putting her arms around Amelia, letting her hold on for longer than either of them would normally allow before pulling back.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” Maya says.

She looks at Carina for assurance that she will be okay with Amelia and Carina gives her a small nod. Amelia starts to empty the grocery bags on to the table, while Carina gathers up the two mugs.

“I’ll make a fresh pot,” she says. “Maya… I love her, but she still hasn’t learned how to make a decent coffee.”

With two steaming hot mugs in front of them, Carina surveys the mountains of sugar-filled treats the cover her table, her eyebrows arching.

“Whenever bad things have happened in my life, I usually go for the stronger stuff,” Amelia says. “But it never ended well and I don’t want that to happen to you.”

She pushes a box of Twinkies towards Carina and leans back in her chair.

“It sucks, losing a brother,” she says. Her eyes glaze over as she thinks about Derek. “They’re supposed to always be there, to be our partners in crime until we get old. And when they’re gone, there’s a loneliness to that which doesn’t come when you lose a parent or a grandparent.”

Carina is reminded of all the loss that Amelia has suffered in her own life. There is an odd sense of camaraderie in knowing that she is not the only one to have lost a sibling so suddenly, so tragically, even though she wouldn’t wish this on anyone else – friend or foe.

Amelia takes the box of Reese’s peanut butter cups and tears open a packet, taking one and offering the other to Carina.

“Derek hated peanut butter,” she says, looking at the confectionary in her hand and taking a bite. “He hated the way it stuck to the roof of your mouth. But he was always that kid that would say yes to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if it was offered to him, because he didn’t want to be rude.”

She rolls her eyes at Carina, who smiles as she takes a bite into her own cup. It is not the kind of thing she usually eats, even though Maya always has a box in the cupboard. It is sticky and sweet.

“I remember when Andrea came to America with Mama, the first thing he sent to me was a packet of these,” Carina remembers fondly. “He said they were the best thing he’d ever tasted – which of course upset the family, because they pride themselves in making the best cannoli in Sicily.”

Amelia chuckles.

“The first time I came to visit them, he snuck a box into my room before dinner and we ate them all. Mama didn’t understand why we weren’t hungry when she took us out for pizza a couple of hours later.”

She feels tears welling up in the corners of her eyes and blinks them back.

“Scusa.”

Amelia waves her apology away. “Don’t be sorry about being sad,” she says. “You’re allowed to be sad for as long as you want. There’s no timeline on this.” She grows wistful. “I miss him even more now that Scout is here. That kid is so much like Link, but sometimes when he cries, he screws up his nose and he looks just like Derek.”

Carina lets the tears fall down her cheeks. “I feel…” She shakes her head. “I don’t even know how I feel, just numb.”

“That’s normal,” Amelia says. “It’s normal to be sad and upset, it’s normal to be smile and laugh at the memories, it’s normal to rage about all the things he’ll miss. Because there is no normal, not really.”

She leans forward and grasps Carina’s hand in hers.

“There is a light at the end of this very dark tunnel,” she says. “You just can’t see it yet. And it might be a while before you do. But it’s there, I promise.”

Carina nods. “Thank you, Amelia.”

“Well, you’ve done enough for me,” Amelia reminds her with a smile. “I just wish this wasn’t the reason for me returning the favour.”

“Me too.”

Amelia’s visit does her some good. She stays for an hour and they talk and cry and laugh, and it helps to forget about the shock of the last twenty-four hours for a while. It is still there, the grief, bubbling under the surface. It doesn’t go far, but she makes the most of the respite while she can.

She skips lunch, blaming the sweets and chocolate that Amelia brought round, and they go for a walk around the park in the afternoon. Carina doesn’t say much, too caught up in all the thoughts in her head. Still, Maya was right, the fresh air does her some good and she sleeps for an hour on the sofa when she gets home before the bad dreams come.  

As she comes to, she hears Maya on the phone.

“A week at least. I spoke to the Chief, we agreed that, with Covid protocols, it wasn’t a good idea to bring someone else into the bubble. Will you cover for me while I’m off?”

Carina frowns. Maya wasn’t going to work this week?

She sits up and lifts her hands above her head, stretching her aching limbs. The movement catches Maya’s attention and she looks over her shoulder.

“I gotta go, Andy,” she says. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She ends the call quickly and grabs a glass of water, walking over to the couch and giving it to Carina, who gladly accepts it and takes a large gulp. Maya perches on the table in front of her.

“You’re not going to work tomorrow?”

Maya shakes her head, no. “The Chief’s letting me taking a week’s bereavement leave,” Maya says.

“You don’t have to do that…” Carina starts to say, but Maya is quick to cut her off.

“Yes, I do,” Maya says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It is the same promise she made yesterday and she hasn’t broken it yet, always there when Carina needs her.

“Thank you,” Carina says quietly.

Maya offers her a small smile. “I still have take-out from yesterday, do you think you could eat some?”

The thought of food is not appealing and Carina’s stomach feels twisted into knots, but it is practically empty and she knows she should eat something.

“Sure,” she says.

She manages half a plate, which is more than either of them expected, followed by two more Tylenol and an early night at Maya’s insistence, hoping that sleep will come easier tonight.

It doesn’t. Maybe it is because, this time, it is Carina evading sleep instead of sleep evading her. The wave of emotions that hit when she gets too comfortable, too soft, is overwhelming. She wants to sleep but doesn’t know how or where, so she stares into the darkness again, her only company her memories of their childhood in Italy.

Her limbs become restless in the early hours. She doesn’t know what time it is, but the urge to get out of bed and move is too big to ignore. She slips out from under the covers, careful not to wake Maya, and creeps into the apartment. She doesn’t bother with the television this time, but instead tunes the radio to some generic station that plays pop music she doesn’t usually listen to. The lyrics are about falling in love and breaking up; some are about unrequited love, some are about lost loves. None are about dead brothers and she is grateful about that.

The couch is too soft, so she lies on the floor of the hallway, wishing for sleep that never comes. It is where Maya finds her a little while later.

“I’m just trying to sleep,” Carina says before Maya can ask her what she is doing.

After a beat, Maya lies on the floor, her head next to Carina’s with her feet pointing in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to sleep too,” Maya says plainly.

Carina sighs. “You should go back to bed.”

Maya doesn’t speak, but her hand scrambles around in the dark until it finds Carina’s. She links their fingers together, giving them a gentle squeeze.

They stay there for an hour, maybe two – Carina has stopped counting time by now – until she drags Maya back to bed. Even if she can’t sleep, Maya should.

Maya tries to fight sleep, to stay awake until Carina sleeps too, but she falls into a slumber around six o’clock. Carina drifts off too, for twenty minutes or so and only a light sleep. Still, it is better than nothing.

They have another slow day at home. Carina avoids calling her dad, but does call her Zia Alice to tell her. It is a hard phone call to make and she doesn’t know how she gets through it, but Maya stays by her side, holding her hand, as she tells her about what happened. It is another loss in their family and she wonders if they should be hardened to it by now, but Alice wails down the phone at her and it takes all of her strength to keep it together. At least Alice agrees not to tell Papa, not yet, not until Carina has spoken to him.

She feels drained afterwards and pushes the notebook away when Maya asks if she wants to call the funeral home. She knows she should, but there is finality to his death that comes with making those kinds of plans that she isn’t ready to face just yet.

Her cell phone is still alight with messages of love and sympathy. She hasn’t read them yet. At one point, she threatens to delete them, but Maya persuades her to keep them.

“You’ll want to read them one day,” she says. “To know how much people loved him.”

She is right, of course. Instead, she leaves her phone behind when they go for another walk, taking the same route around the park as yesterday. The sun shines and it feels weird, wrong almost, that it should be so warm and sunny when everything about her life feels so bleak. She hides her eyes behind her sunglasses so that no-one can see the dark circles and red rims that give away her trauma.

“When we were little, our grandparents used to take us to the park near their house. It had this swing with a big round seat… I don’t know what they’re called,” Carina says. “It was big enough for both us and we would sit on it side-by-side with our arms linked together in case one of us started to slip.”

She smiles sadly at the memory.

“I can still hear Andrea’s squeals of joy as Nonno would push us. Nonna used to scold him, tell him that he was pushing us too high, but we loved it. It was the first thing that Andrea would beg to do whenever we visited.”

She stops walking suddenly. Her chest rumbles and she chokes back her tears, not wanting to fall apart in public.

“I just… I can’t believe I’m not going to hear him laugh any more. He had such a beautiful laugh, like Mama’s.”

Maya slips her hand around her waist and steps closer.

“You want to take the short cut home?”

Carina shakes her head. “No. I’m okay. I just need a minute.”

“Take as many minutes as you want,” Maya says.

Carina dips her head and rests it on Maya’s shoulder, taking a deep breath to steady herself and recognising a familiar scent. Her lips twitch, threatening to smile.

“You’ve been using my shampoo again?”

“Why else do you think I asked you to move in with me?” Maya teases.

The smile breaks through, lighting up her face briefly.

They finish their loop of the park and head home. Carina feels drained again and lets Maya cover her in blankets on the couch. She sleeps for a little over an hour this time, woken up by shrill ringing of her cell phone. She jolts awake, blinking a few times as her blurred vision clears, and looks towards the source of the noise.

Her cell phone stops ringing just as she reaches for it. Next to it is a note from Maya, letting her know that she has just popped to the shops for some fresh ingredients for dinner. Her cell phone starts to ring again and she looks down, a surprise name staring back at her.

“Arizona, ciao,” she says when she answers.

She rubs her eyes. Her voice is still a little sluggish from her nap and Arizona picks up on it.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It’s okay,” Carina says dismissively. She doesn’t know what to say next, she knows why Arizona is calling and she falls silent, waiting for Arizona to offer her condolences.

“I heard about Andrew. I’m so sorry, Carina,” Arizona says.

“Thank you,” Carina says.

“He meant a lot to me, I hope you know that,” Arizona continues. “I hope he knew that too. He helped me so much when he moved in. I was so lost after Callie and Sofia left and he stopped me from wallowing, just by being there, by making dinner and watching trashy television with me.”

Carina smiles. “He always had a soft spot for The Bachelorette. He made me promise not to tell anyone.”

Arizona chuckles. “He was a special one. To me and so many.”

“I know,” Carina says softly.

“You know, when my brother died, my heart was broken into pieces. Timothy was my ally in so many ways and I didn’t know how I was gonna live the rest of my life without him as my cheerleader,” Arizona says. “I know you know how that feels.”

Her words make Carina’s heart ache, her eyes filling with tears.

“And it never goes away, not completely. When Sofia was born, when I got married, the plane crash, my divorce – I missed him so much. I mean, I always miss him but there are moments still when he’s the first person I want to call and I hate that I can’t.”

The tears fall down Carina’s cheeks and she can’t stop them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t call to make you feel worse,” Arizona apologises.

“I don’t think that’s possible right now,” Carina says through her sniffles.

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Arizona says. “I guess my point is, don’t be afraid of those feelings. They’ll hurt, some days more than others, and sometimes it will feel unbearable, like you’re right back here in the worst of your grief. Don’t be afraid to feel it, Carina, because pushing it away will only make it come bouncing back harder.”

Carina wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Thank you, Arizona,” she says. She takes a deep, shaky breath to regain her composure. “How is New York, are you happy?”

“I am,” Arizona says. “Sofia loves being back here, and…”

She trails off, leaving an awkward silence between them.

“And Callie?” Carina prompts.

She already knows that Arizona and Callie are back together, happier than ever according to Jo, who heard it from Alex – before his sudden disappearance.

“We’re good,” Arizona says. “And you? Do you have… someone?”

Carina smiles when she thinks about Maya. “I do,” she says. “She’s a firefighter – the captain, in fact.”

“And she’s taking care of you?”

There is a protectiveness to her voice that Carina can’t help but find endearing.

“She is, very much,” Carina says. She hasn’t stopped taking care of her since the aid car rolled up outside the hospital.

“Good, I’m glad,” Arizona says.

From her end of the phone, Carina hears the familiar beeping of a pager.

“Shoot, I have to go,” Arizona says. “Look, I know you have people in your life who will take care of you. But if you ever wanna talk, I’ll listen.”

It is a sweet gesture, even if Carina knows she will never take her up on it. They haven’t spoken since Arizona left for New York and they probably never would have if it hadn’t been for this tragedy. It would be an odd friendship, built on her brother’s death, and Carina doesn’t want that.

“Thank you, Arizona.”

She hits the red button to end the call and keeps her cell phone in her hand, pulling up the messages that have been flooding in over the last two days. There are forty, maybe fifty messages from her friends and colleagues – some numbers she recognises and some she doesn’t – all offering words of sympathy and support. She reads them one by one, each message making the tears fall harder and faster. He was so loved and cherished by so many. It makes her happy and sad all at once, and it is too much for her.

Maya finds her curled up in a ball on the couch, her face buried in her knees as she sobs uncontrollably. She drops the groceries on the floor and rushes to her side, scooping her up in a hug, her arms strong around her.

“He’s gone,” Carina murmurs through her tears. “He’s really gone.”

She feels Maya’s hold tighten.

“I’m here, I’ve got you,” Maya soothes in her ear, letting her tears soak into her shirt.

Carina wonders how long it will take before she cries all of her tears. She is a doctor, a scientist, she knows that she will never run out of tears – that’s not the way a body works. But there has to be a point when the tears don’t come. With Mama, it was many weeks later before she had got through a day without crying – which only made the tears come back when she realised it, because she felt so guilty at not remembering to be sad.

“Did the bad dreams come back?” Maya asks.

Carina shakes her head. “No, I was reading the messages on my phone. Everyone was being so lovely.”

“People being nice made you cry?” Maya says.

Carina smiles ruefully. “It feels like everything makes me cry at the moment.”

Maya tucks Carina’s hair behind her ears. Carina leans into her touch, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek into the palm of her hand, taking comfort from her warm skin.

“You wanna help me make dinner? It might help to have something else to focus on for a while,” Maya suggests.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Carina says.

Maya doesn’t force her to make conversation as they prep the food and it is a welcome relief to have nothing to think about except chopping vegetables. She pours them both a large glass of Chardonnay as Maya stands in front of the stove making dinner. Her shoulders feel so tight that it feels like someone is pressing all of their body weight on top of her and she hopes that the wine will help her relax. Despite being one of her favourite bottles, it tastes acidic and burns her tongue, as if her taste buds are betraying her.

She helps herself to a small amount of the risotto that Maya has made and it tastes good, but sits heavy in her stomach. Still, she clears her plate and she knows that it makes Maya happy to see her eating.

“Is there anything you wanna do tonight?” Maya asks. “A movie, perhaps?”

“Sure,” Carina says. She doesn’t really care, but at least a movie will fill the silent apartment.

Maya insists that they watch it on her laptop in bed, hoping that if Carina finally succumbs to sleep then at least she will be somewhere comfortable. She chooses something light, a romantic comedy set in London, and Carina distracts them from the happy ending by telling her about her travels there just after medical school.

The glare of the screen was probably a bad idea because, despite the exhaustion she feels, she still can’t sleep. She tries the kitchen floor that night, the oak flooring harder and more uncomfortable than the soft rug in the hallway. It is where Maya finds her in the morning, staring up at the pots and pans that hang above the small island. She doesn’t say anything about it, just accepts it, like it is becoming the new normal, leaving Carina to wonder if she will ever sleep properly again.

The numbness is starting to fade and she is overwhelmed by the guilt she carries instead. She should have stopped him from getting on that train, she should have insisted they wait for the police. She should have stayed with him as he made his way through the train station, she should have got to him sooner. She should have been able to save him, instead of freezing and panicking when she saw the stab wound. All these things she should have done, but didn’t, and because of that her sweet baby brother is dead.

The guilt makes her angry. The sound of Maya’s footsteps, echoing between her ears, irritates her. The pounding from her treadmill as she exercises reverberates through the apartment and she wants to tell her to go out for a run if she wants, but she doesn’t because she selfishly needs Maya near her right now.

She moves before Maya turns on her blender to make her morning smoothie, knowing the loud whirring will aggravate her even more and she doesn’t want to snap at Maya, when she has been so lovely these last couple of days.

“I’m going to shower,” she announces, hauling herself up to standing.

“Do you want me to make you break…”

Carina doesn’t hang around to answer her question. She heads into the bedroom and closes the door behind her, exhaling deep and long. She is so exhausted, she doesn’t know what to do with herself, like a child who refuses to nap and is on the verge of a meltdown.

The tiles of the shower are cold and strangely inviting, and she sits down in the corner, resting her head on one wall and closing her eyes. It’s too uncomfortable though and doesn’t help her sleep any easier.

Maya comes looking for her when she doesn’t hear the water running.

“Hey,” she says softly, leaning against the door frame.

Carina doesn’t lift her eyes, knowing that Maya will be looking at her with love and empathy. “I know this looks crazy.”

“Not any crazier than finding you lying in the hallway at three a.m.,” Maya says.

“I can't get comfortable anywhere.”

Maya wanders into the bathroom and leans against the shower door. “You want to give the bed or the couch another shot?”

“Too soft.”

She can feel Maya looking at her, bemused. She lifts her head off the wall and glances up at her.  

“When something is too soft and nice and comfortable right now, it makes me want to cry,” she explains, “and I can't cry anymore because it's exhausting and it gives me a headache; and I'm already so tired, but I can't fall asleep, and sleeping is the only thing that will turn off the crazy guilt screaming in my brain.” She sighs. “So, I'm in the shower to try to fall asleep.”

“Carina…” Maya scolds her lightly as she crouches down near her. “None of this is your fault.”

The voices in her head tell her otherwise. There were so many things she did wrong that day, that she knows will haunt her for the rest of her life.

“You want to scream?” Maya asks. “Would that make you feel better?”

Carina read an article once about how screaming releases the tension you carry in your body and that the endorphins that follow will mask any pain you are feeling. She would do anything right now for the pain to go away.

She nods.

“Okay, then scream.”

She leans back, but she is too tired and can’t summon the energy to do it.

“Your brother died, Carina,” Maya says. “You’re allowed to wake up the neighbours.”

She doesn’t care about the neighbours. She would wake the whole apartment block with her cries if she could.

“He didn't die,” Carina reminds her. “He was murdered.”

The words make her feel nauseous and she swallows the thick bile that rises to the back of her throat.

“Scream,” Maya encourages her.  

She tries, hitting her head against the solid tiles behind her a few times to garner the energy, but her throat is dry and her chest aches from all the sobbing, and she just can’t do it. All she can do is cry – again.

Maya comes into the shower and sits beside her, wrapping her arms around her. Carina indulges her for a moment, letting the comfort wash over her, until she feels the familiar throbbing in her chest.

“Too soft, too soft,” she says, rejecting Maya’s help and training her eyes on the wall in front of her.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Maya says.

She walks away and Carina knows it is because she doesn’t want to make her feel worse. If only she understood that she is the only thing making her feel better right now. Carina closes her eyes and leans back against the wall behind her. It is cold and hard, just like she feels inside, but still sleep doesn’t come easily. She can hear Maya moving around in the kitchen and gets up slowly, her back sore from too much time on the hard floors of their apartment. She wanders out into the kitchen where Maya is making eggs again.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. It doesn’t feel like enough, but it is all she has to give right now.

Maya pauses on the way to deliver her breakfast to the table, leaving a soft kiss on her cheek.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” she says kindly.

It has only been three days, after all. Carina sits at the table and pushes the eggs around the plate, her stomach churning at their smell. She takes a bite of dry toast. She thought she was getting her appetite back a little yesterday, but today her stomach is twisted into knots and the food doesn’t settle well. She notices the notebook on the shelf, the one that lists all the things she hasn’t done to give her brother a funeral. It serves as another reminder of how she is failing him.

“I’m gonna go change the bed, maybe some fresh sheets will help,” Maya says. She is running out of ideas of how to help. “You okay here?”

Carina nods absentmindedly, her eyes moving away from the notebook but not meeting Maya’s. Her phone chimes and she pulls it out of her pocket. It is a message from her cousin, offering his condolences. It beeps a few more times as a series of photos come through and she opens them, curious, only to have her breath taken away by the image of her brother’s smiling face looking up at her. They are photos from the last time they were all together as a family, her cousin’s wedding four years ago. There are candid photos of Andrew chatting to family and dancing with friends, his eyes bright and his smile wide across his face. There are photos of her Nonna and uncles she will never see again, and they bring tears to her eyes. The last one is a photo of the three of them – Papa, Andrew and her – laughing during the after-dinner speeches.

Her heart drops.

She still hasn’t told Papa. She doesn’t know how she is going to tell him, how to even begin to explain what happened and how his child ended up dead.

He was away at a conference when Mama died. He got home a few days later and Carina went to his house to tell him. She thought he had taken it okay, he was upset but they had been divorced for ten years by then. Except it had triggered an episode and the next day the police had turned up on her doorstep with him in tow, incoherent and manic. He had passed the alcohol test, so they didn’t want him taking up space in a station cell, and he had been able to tell them where his daughter lived.

What if that happens when she tells him about Andrew? What if, this time, the police don’t pull him over and he gets into an accident? What if he hurts himself or someone else? She can’t have that on her conscience as well.

Panic flares up inside of her and she rushes to the spare room, pulling out a suitcase and heading into the bedroom, where Maya is in the middle of changing the bed sheets.

“I have to go to Italy,” Carina announces, flinging the suitcase onto the half-made bed.

Maya looks up at her, confusion across her face. “What?”

“I have to tell my dad and I think the best way to do it is in person,�� Carina says.

She walks towards the dresser to pull out some clothes, not paying attention to what she is choosing.

“Carina, take a breath. Let’s talk this through,” Maya says calmly, but Carina isn’t really listening.

“…because I don’t know how he’s gonna react to the news and I just need to be there in case he goes crazy or something.”

All she can see in her head is the image of her dad, hanging limply in the arms of two police officers. She drops the clothes haphazardly into the case, then goes to find more.

“Okay, there are no flights to Italy right now,” Maya points out. “The border is closed there and here. And even if you could get there, we're in a pandemic, remember?”

Carina stares at her as she starts to make sense of what Maya is saying. But if she doesn’t go to Italy, how is she going to escape all that haunts her?

“Okay, yeah, I have... ahhh! Okay, I feel like there's so much that I have to do, and I don't even know how.”

It overwhelms her and she marches out into the hallway, with Maya close behind her.

“Okay, what do you want? What do you need? What can I do?”

“I have to organize the funeral, I have to contact his landlord,” Carina says as she paces up and down the hallway, unable to keep still. “I have to call the bank to sort out all the details and paperwork. I have…” She sighs. “I have to tell my dad. But what I want to do right now is scream. I want to scream until my throat hurts more than my head and my stomach and my chest. I just want to scream so that some of this pressure goes away.”

“So scream,” Maya says. “Do it, let it out.”

“I can't,” Carina cries. She has tried so many times and every time she fails, and she doesn’t need to feel like any more of a failure.

She knows that Maya is trying to help her but everything feels too hard and she craves the solitude of their bathroom, brushing past Maya and making her way back into the shower.

“I can't, I can't, I can't,” she mutters.

She sits on the cool tiles, her brain buzzing and her heart thumping in her chest. She tries to control her breathing, a long inhale and a slow exhale.

‘Five things you can see,’ she thinks to herself.

The tiles, the bottle of shampoo, the crumpled towel on the floor, the mirror, the trash can.

Four things you can touch.

She goes through the steps, the calming technique helping reduce her stress and anxiety. She drops her head to one side, resting against the wall and closing her eyes, willing herself to sleep. She just wants to sleep but the floor of a shower isn’t exactly conducive to it.

That is the point, being somewhere uncomfortable to stop the warmth and cosiness of her bed from lulling her back into her grief. She tries to sleep for an hour, eventually giving up.

When she wanders back into the apartment, Maya is in the kitchen again, making a sandwich.

“Did you sleep?” she asks.

“No, but I tried in the shower, like a lunatic,” Carina says, sitting down.

“Well, I got everything sorted out with the funeral home,” Maya says, as she delivers the sandwich to her seat at the table.

It takes Carina by surprise. “You called them?”

“I called everyone,” Maya says. “I did the whole list. I did all the things.”

She says it so simply, like it’s not a big deal but it is. Carina feels her heart flip, in a good way for the first time in days. Because as strong as she wishes she was, this loss more than any other has shaken her foundations and when she wonders how she is still standing, she always comes back to the same answer.

Maya.

And every time Carina thinks she is as much in love as she will ever be, Maya does something else that takes her breath away.

“Thank you,” she says, fighting back her tears. “No-one has ever done that for me.”

She sees a small frown crinkle Maya’s forehead.

“Any chance you could call my dad for me too?”

She knows it is cruel not to have told him yet. She tries to tell herself that it is because she is worried about him, and that’s not a lie, but she knows the real reason why she hasn’t done it yet. She’s afraid of what he will say, she’s afraid that he will blame her as much as she blames herself.

She watches as Maya walks over to her, grabbing a spare stool and sitting beside her, leaning her arms on the table.

“I wish I could,” she says.

Carina wishes that too.

“That's one you got to do on your own.”

“I know,” Carina says. “I'm so scared to tell him.”

Saying it out loud doesn’t lighten the burden at all.

“I know,” Maya says softly.

The smell of the sandwich makes Carina’s stomach turn. Or maybe it is the thought of telling her dad that makes her feel sick.  

“I'm gonna try again,” she says, standing up from her seat.

“To sleep?”

“To scream.”

She walks into the bedroom. She doesn’t bother with the shower floor this time, instead she sits on the edge of the bed and grabs a pillow. She holds her body tight and takes a deep breath, opening opens her mouth and pressing her face against the soft pillow.

All that escapes is a pathetic whimper.

Her pent-up grief and sadness and frustration sits heavy on her chest but she doesn’t have the energy to expel it.

She can’t sleep, she can’t scream, she can’t find the courage to call her dad.

She puffs out her cheeks and exhales, running her hand through her hair and noticing how greasy and full of knots it is. She stands up, the exhaustion making her a little dizzy, and she reaches out to rest her hands on the bedside table to steady herself until her head stops spinning.

She strips herself of her clothes, dropping them on the floor, not caring for once about the wrinkles it will cause. She steps into the shower and ducks under the running hot water, washing away some of the tension in her limbs. She rolls her head in her neck, immersing her face in the water, letting it cleanse her skin of the tear stains on her cheeks.

She thinks about that morning when she bumped into Andrew in the parking lot, how he had given her that typical DeLuca stubborn glare when he told her about Opal and his plan to follow her. She kept telling herself that she couldn’t stop him, that he was too wilful, but maybe that was just an excuse because she was too afraid to upset him, to make him feel unsupported just like before.

She forgets about all the times she told him to wait for the police and all the times he pushed on anyway. All she remembers is driving him around the city, chasing a woman they knew could be dangerous and leading him to his death.

She doesn’t know what is worse, the grief or the guilt. It is like they are conspiring against her, battling to see which one can weigh her down more.

She turns the shower up to its hottest setting, letting the water burn her skin until it is bright red as a way of distracting herself from the thoughts in her head. She stays in the shower for as long as her body will tolerate, then steps out in the cool air of the apartment. Her skin prickles with goosebumps, her fine hairs standing on end, and pulls a towel around her to stay warm.

Once she is dry, she covers herself with moisturiser to soothe her dry skin. The massaging motion helps her to relax a little. She dries her hair and dresses, pulling on a pair of jeans and comfortable sweater, before heading out into the apartment.

Maya is at the far end of the apartment doing push ups in the living room. Apart from a couple of gentle walks, she hasn’t been able to indulge in her normal exercise routine lately and Carina knows that she is probably feeling claustrophobic being stuck indoors all day.

She hears Carina coming and looks up, stopping her workout and rising to her feet.

“You showered.”

“Mmm. I was already there and I couldn't sleep, so, um...” She sits on the edge of the couch. “I didn't want to call you when I was in the car with Andrea because I knew you would talk me out of it and tell me to make my brother stop. Tell me that it was dangerous. And you did…”

She takes a shaky breath.

“And you were right. And I still think…” She can feel herself getting worked up, becoming breathless as she talks. “I feel like this is… Why? Why didn't I stop him?”

She stands up, feeling boxed in as Maya walks towards her and she backs away from her. “This is… this is all my fault. This is… I…” She struggles to find the right words until they spill out of her mouth. “My brother is dead because I'm an idiot.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. Listen to me,” Maya says sternly. “None of this is your fault.”

“Whose fault is it then? Who am I supposed to blame?”

She needs to blame someone, to be the focus of her anger – and she convinces herself that she deserves it.                                                                

“Blame me!” Maya says out of nowhere. “We have to get some of this off of you. I will take it. Blame me. I should have gotten to you sooner, I should have been there. Blame me.”

It is the most ridiculous thing Carina has ever heard.

“Maya, this is not your fault,” she says, walking past her.

“Then why is it yours?”

Carina spins to face her. “Because I let him on that train! I did that.”

What can’t Maya see that?

Maya grabs her arms and guides her to sit on the couch. “Give me the guilt, okay? Give me the blame. Give me the part that stings the most. Okay, let me hold on to it for a little while.” She looks up at Carina with her bright blue eyes. “And when you're feeling a little stronger, you can have it all back, I promise.”

Carina can’t see it for the beautiful gesture that it is. It is too soft and the grief threatens to consume her once again. Her body turns rigid and she trains her eyes on the fireplace in front of her, refusing to look at Maya.

“Too soft, I’m sorry,” Maya says, standing up and walking back into the kitchen.

Carina focuses on her breath, in and out, in and out, willing herself not to cry. She hears Maya clearing away the sandwich she didn’t eat at lunch time and focuses on the clanging of plates and cutlery as she fills the dishwasher.

She can feel herself pushing Maya away. Too nice, too kind, too soft.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to cling to Maya so hard because she is the only thing that is keeping her hanging on right now.

She gets up from her seat and wanders over to the kitchen, her shoes light on the floor. She sidles up behind her, resting her hands on Maya’s hips and her chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

Maya twists her head a little, glancing over her shoulder.

“Maybe you should let yourself feel soft for a while?”

“I can’t,” Carina says. “It hurts too much and I can’t figure out how to get it all out. So it’s better to not feel anything at all.”

Maya spins, staying in her embrace, and rests her hands at the top of her arms.

“You wanna go for another walk?”

Carina shakes her head.

“I need to call Papa,” she says slowly. “I don’t want to, I’m still scared about what he’s going to say. But it’s not fair that he doesn’t know.”

She knows it is not helping, having it hanging over her head. At least it will be one thing ticked off the list.

Maya nods. “You want some space?”

“No,” Carina is quick to say. “I… Can you stay close?”

Her voice is flooded with vulnerability and she blinks back tears.

“Of course,” Maya says. “Whatever you need.”

Carina takes a deep breath and pulls her cell phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her contact list. Her finger hovers over Papa’s name and her leg jiggles nervously.

“You can do this,” Maya says softly.

Standing still feels unnatural so she walks through the apartment, pacing up and down near the couch as she finally hits the call button and raises the phone to her ear, listening to it ring. It is almost eleven o’clock in the evening in Italy but she knows he never goes to bed early.

“Carina,” he answers his phone with her name, his voice flat. Not cold, but not warm either.

“Papa, ciao,” Carina says, but before she can get the words out, he launches into story about his current research project and the success he is seeing in his experiments. He sounds a little manic, which makes her heart drop, but she perseveres, trying to interrupt him. He talks over her, like he does so often, and it takes a while for her to get the words out.

“Papa, Andrea è morto.”

Her voice cracks when she says it. The line falls silent for a moment before he says something that hits her like a punch in the gut.

“I know, Carina. Someone at the hospital called me a couple of days ago, I guess my name is on his emergency contacts list.”

Carina is stunned. He already knew?

She waits for him to ask her about what happened, to know what it was like for Andrew in his last moments on this earth. She wants him to ask her if she is okay, to tell her that he loves her. He rarely says it, not since she was a little girl, and these days it comes with an emotional manipulation. Still, it is all she needs to hear right now.

What she gets is a kick in the gut.

“Look, I have to go, I’m in the middle of writing an article and I don’t want to lose my train of thought.”

“Okay, okay,” Carina says despondently.

“Just tell me how much the funeral costs and I’ll pay it.”

Like that is all she needs from him.

“Si, ciao.”

She hangs up, still in shock, and turns to look at Maya.

“He heard.”

“What?”

“He heard that Andrea died two days ago and he didn't call me.”

She turns away from Maya, feeling the anger growing inside of her. She has been living in her grief for the last three days when it could have been shared with her father. She has spent hours worrying about how to tell him, what to tell him, and how he might react – all for nothing, because he already knew and he didn’t bother to call her to make sure she was okay.

The rational part of her brain knows that his Bipolar is affecting the way he reacts to his grief, but Carina isn’t feeling very rational right now. She feels angry and frustrated, like she wants to break something, like she wants to scream.

She opens her mouth and tries again but still nothing comes out. Instead, she thumps her fist against the wall, and again, and again.

“Hey, hey!” Maya says, coming up beside her and grabbing her wrist to stop her from hurting herself.

Carina struggles against her but Maya is stronger. Her other hand slips around Carina’s waist.

“He left me to grieve alone,” Carina cries.

“You’re not alone,” Maya reminds her. “I’m here.”

Carina sighs, her body deflating. “That… That’s not…” she struggles to find her words. “I know.”

She doesn’t know how she would have got through the last few days without Maya’s constant presence. But Maya didn’t know Andrew, not like Papa and her family, and she needs someone who can share that grief with her.

“I just don’t know how to make it go away.”

“What?” Maya asks.

“All of it. The pain, the guilt. It’s too much in my head, in my heart.”

She taps her chest with her hand as tears run down her face and she wipes them away with the sleeve of her sweater. Her body sags and she leans into Maya’s body.

“I’m so tired.”

“I know you are,” Maya says softly, kissing her temple. “Why don’t we go out? Being cooped up in here probably isn’t helping.”

Carina starts to shake her head. All she wants is to cocoon herself away from the outside world.

“Please? I have an idea that might help.”

Carina can hear the concern in her voice and relents. She will try anything that might help her sleep.  So she nods, slowly, as Maya grabs her car keys and insists on driving them somewhere else.

Carina sits in the passenger seat, staring out of the window and watching the world go about its daily business. She doesn’t pay attention to where they are going, her focus on the people living their lives like normal. She doesn’t know what normal looks like any more, because a world without her little brother – the other half to her whole – isn’t normal.

They haven’t gone far when Maya pulls into an empty space outside of the fire station.

“What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see,” is all Maya says.

Leaving Carina confused, Maya gets out of the car first and walks round to the passenger side, opening the door and holding out her hand. Carina is too tired to object, so she takes it and lets Maya lead her into the station, pulling on a mask as she walks. It is quiet; the reception desk is empty, so is the captain’s office; the ladder truck and aid car both out on a call.

Maya leads her into the barn and around the back of the engine.

“What? What are we doing?” Carina asks wearily.

Maya doesn’t answer as she opens the door and climbs into the driver’s seat. Carina’s eyes roll.

“Okay, Maya, I'm not a child,” she grumbles, removing her mask. “I don't need a fire truck ride to feel…”

Better, is what she is about to say when, all of a sudden, the siren wails. Carina has never heard it up close before and it pierces her ears, making her wince.

“Maya!” she cries out, covering her ears with her hands to shield her from the noise.

“Scream” Maya says.

“What?”

“Scream!” she repeats.

Carina looks at her dumbly. “I can’t.”

She has been trying for days but it never comes.

“Do it!”

“No, I can't,” Carina says. She is holding back, she knows that. Keeping the grief inside, wallowing in the guilt, it is like a punishment. The moment she lets it all out is the moment she will have to accept what happened and start to forgive herself.

Suddenly, Maya lets out a loud, long scream.

“I can’t do it,” Carina says, defeated. She is not ready to accept it just yet.

She turns and starts to walk away from her, but Maya keeps screaming. She feels a rumble in her chest, as if all of the grief and anger and frustration and sadness is about to force its way out of her. She takes a deep breath and clenches her fists, and lets out the fiercest scream she can muster. The tears come as she screams again and now they are both screaming, drowned out by the siren. She screams louder, like she is trying to match it. Her chest burns but it is a good pain this time because she feels the pressure releasing with every breath, every cry. She hits the palms of her hands against the fire engine, letting the tears fall.

Maya opens her arms and she collapses into them, letting the warmth of her embrace swallow her. Maya may not have known Andrew very well, but she knows her, and she knows exactly what she needs to let the grief out. She loves Maya completely in this moment and it feels like the light at the end of the tunnel is cracking through just a little bit.

She sobs into Maya’s sweater, holding on to her so tightly, only soothed by the quiet murmurings in her ear. They sway until Carina stops trembling and even then Carina refuses to let go.

The siren brings Ben to barn to find out what is going on and Maya waves him away, but not before he climbs into the engine to turn off the siren. Silence falls around them.

“The team’s on their way back, ten minutes out,” Ben says quietly, before slipping away.

Carina pulls back, her eyes flaring with panic. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

“You don’t have to,” Maya says, taking her hand again. “Home?”

Carina nods, takes a step forward and, with her free hand, cups Maya’s face and draws her in for a soft, light kiss. Salty tears trickle down her cheek and onto her top lip.

“Thank you,” she says in barely a whisper, resting her forehead against Maya’s. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” Maya says.

Carina feels herself smile. “I love you, too.”

The car ride home is quiet. Carina feels exhaustion wash over her, her eyelids drooping. Her body craves the soft mattress of their bed for the first time in days.

“Are you hungry?” Maya asks as they step inside the apartment. “You didn’t eat lunch, you must be starving.”

Carina shakes her head. “No, I just want to try to rest.”

“Why don’t you curl up in bed?” Maya suggests. “I’ll bring you some tea, maybe that will help you fall asleep?”

Carina leans forward and kisses her cheek, then wanders down the hallway. The bed is freshly made from this morning and looks inviting. She kicks off her shoes, but doesn’t bother to undress before crawling under the duvet. She curls up on her right side, buries her face in Maya’s pillow and hugs the edge of the duvet. She feels warm and comfortable, and she feels herself drifting into a slumber.

The memories don’t come this time, the nightmares kept at bay as she finally lets the softness back in and succumbs to sleep.

#station 19 #grey's anatomy #carina deluca #maya bishop #station 19 fanfiction #my fanfiction #serendipity #*takes a deep breath*

[lowkeyclueless5137]

Hello it's me again 😀! I just finished reading your danganronpa au on ao3 and it absolutely brought me back to my dr phase (So nostalgic really, and I was such a huge fan of dr). I remembered that in the dr fan book, they had unused executions for some of the characters. I'll send some here in case you didn't watch it or know about it:

Danganronpa 1

Super Danganronpa 2

Danganronpa V3

Now onto my question, do you perhaps have any unused executions for the twst boys 👀? Or alternate execution perhaps?

Anyways love your works 😊

To be honest, I discovered Twisted Wonderland when I was in my Danganropa phase... Azul was the first one who got me in twst so I saw it fit for him to be a protagonist(Dr au is basically me hinting on my origins in the twst fandom) :'3

The unused executions concepts for Dr games were really smart, but the cannon executions(as the concept/unused executions Don't really count to me as cannon of the story/game itself) were also really well portrayed...

And yes! I have 2 unused executions :'3

Under the cut, cuz it will be some gore and it's Dr executions after all :3

Also smol spoilers for my Dr au series!

Casino betting

This was supposed to be Ace's execution. Back in case 4, Ace and Kalim were my candidates for a blackened. But since Jamil was chosen, I had to scrap it.

The execution was supposed to have Ace on a pocket of a roulette, having to bet on which pocket the gigantic ball will fall onto. In the end, Ace guessed right as the ball fell into a pocket next to his. But the thing was that it set a trap, which made Ace to fall through a Chandelier that crashed on a normal sized roulette table, scaring the gambling monokumas for a bit, before they returned to their match.

The Final punishment

This is a proper execution for the Mastermind, Silver, but it was scrapped because Azul ended up making the said execution when he destroyed the dream world...

Being the Mastermind, Silver had to go through a mix of 'wannabe punishments' that were meant for the victims of each case. First, getting cut and hit by books covered in thorns(Malleus), pinned to a wall by arrows (Rook), the room getting filled with bullets and explosives while poison dwelled at the bottom (Riddle and Floyd), a hallucinating gas being released(his supposed to be death), and finally different carving tools falling(epel), one of them cutting the trigger and activating the whole domino of explosions. For the finale, his crown will fly out of the execution place, falling in Azul's hands(the one who wasn't supposed to be here, hence he had no execution prepared).

For the others I didn't really think about it, mostly cuz i had a sketch of how all cases should play out :'3

#twisted wonderland #danganropa au #unused ideas #the concept and will is there #the how is missing tho :'3

[ghoastixx]

“One of my bad days”

Based on the song “One of my turns” from the Pink Floyd album “The Wall”

Characters belong to me and my friends

CW: breaking things, cussing, mentions of blood, domestic violence basically

Proceed with caution :)

River sat on the bed haphazardly, staring at seemingly nothing. Their hair was pulled back with not much effort and their shirt was falling off their shoulders, tattoos on full display. His lips were dry and cracking and his breath was hasty. There was a cigarette resting between his fingers, occasionally meeting his lips. Mel was sitting on the bed next to him concerned. In normal circumstances Mel wouldn’t be concerned and would just lay back and wait for River to follow, they had routine, but this didn’t seem normal. River was normally very vocal whenever Mel was around and often had trouble sitting still, River looked disturbed, and it was true, River was disturbed.

River was very good with keeping their husband, Mel, and their child, Al, safe. Even if that meant depriving himself of the blood he needed to feed. If he was starving and thought it would put his family in danger, he’d go to Jesse and feed. He never took too much from Jesse, just enough to satisfy his needs. He didn’t let his family know what he was, he needed to keep them safe. Very rarely did River slip up and attack someone, but it did happen every once in a while. Usually when he slipped up, he had Jesse help him with the body and would continue as normal, it’s not like the cops would get involved anyways, they always assumed it was just a wolf and moved on. If he ever slipped up, it didn’t bother him. This one, however, did. After the victim was bled dry, River was still hungry. They tried to play it off as nothing and went home, but they were starving.

“Are you okay?” The voice snapped River out of their thoughts. They glanced over at Mel.

‘Go for it, feed off of them. The hunt will be easy, I bet they taste so good too!’ They snapped themselves out of it but couldn’t shake the feeling. They didn’t respond.

River had been doubtful about this relationship for a few months now.. maybe it had been the childs fault? Maybe it had just been River in general. It just all seemed so… grey. Mel was amazing, River loved Mel, but how long could he keep this up. The routine was getting exhausting at this point. Al was just too much to handle and River couldn’t deal with all the stress, let alone pretending it was alright.

This life just isn’t very fun anymore.

He could feel the itch crawl up his spine, he could feel himself going. He knew he couldn’t stop it. He shuddered as he felt his teeth growing sharper. He let his tongue drag over the cracks oh his lips. He closed his eyes and took a breath. He opened them again and suddenly something shifted in him.

He shot up and picked up the vase on the dresser and smashed it letting flower petals go everywhere. Mel, alarmed stood up to try and stop him. River shoved him off, he landed back on the bed. Something in River’s eyes showed him that this wasn’t his River, this was a stranger.

River could see how frightened Mel was. In some sick twisted way it made him smile, in another it pained him. He smiled a hungry smile at him.

“Don’t be so frightened my love! This is just one of my bad days! It’ll pass~”

Something clicked in Mel, he realized he needed to get Al and leave. He stood up and pushed past River, who followed quick on his heels.

Instead of following Mel into Al’s room, River continued down the stairs, deciding to take his anger out on other things. He entered the kitchen and smashed the bottle of wine on the counter. He smashed some of the newly washed plates. Anger filled his stomach when he thought about Mel.

Mel came down the stairs, Al following behind. River looked at them. Anger became overwhelming.

“Do you want to watch something on T.V? Or how about we get between our sheets? Do you want me to make you another drink?! Or would you like something to eat!?”

River picked up a stool and threw it on the ground. Disregarding how terrified Al seemed. He smashed pictures and broke glasses. He jumped at Mel, but he pulled back having River land on the floor. River smiled and looked up at him. The floor was littered with glass.

River went into the living room, tearing off couch cushions and smashing everything around him.

“River you need to stop now.” Mel sounded demanding, trying to get through in ways that he does, assuming that River was just higher than normal and had a bad day at work. He was trying to calm the situation down before Al or River got hurt.

“Would you like to call the cops!?” River laughed

“You think it’s time I stopped!”

“Go to hell River Gray.” Mel spat as he grabbed Al’s hand and rushed out the front door.

River tore the shade off the window before he found himself crying at this.

‘Why are you running away?’

#pink floyd the wall #one of my turns #the wall #oc #original characters #original character

[sarilolla]

tell us about this new au that you have in mind please 🥺

Yesss, thank you for giving me the chance to talk >:)

So, this au is not fully fleshed out obviously, as it mostly came from me listening to the song "Open The Door (That's Not My Neighbor Song)" by LongestSoloEver and DayumDahlia for about an hour while scrolling through the trolls tag on tumblr, but here's the gist of it (Also, this isn't 100% like "That's Not My Neighbor", but is just inspired by it. There will be some horror/gore elements too)

It's been a while after Floyd's rescue, a month or so, giving the siblings time to get to know each other, while still being unsure of each other. Branch might have known his brothers, but a lot change in 20 years, especially when you're in no contact. Poppy never even knew she had a sister, and while she's hyped to finally have a sibling to share everything with, Viva and Peppy are spending a lot of time together, bonding and talking, meaning Poppy feels left out and alone for the first time ever. It's always been her and her dad, so it stings how he cancels plans to be with Viva. ("We haven't seen each other in twenty years! You understand, right, Poppy?" "Would love to hang out Poppy, but we already planned something, maybe next time?" "Sorry Poppy, we didn't know you were waiting for us." etc etc). Poppy isolates herself a bit from her family in return, and the Snack Pack, in the belief she is joining them on these bonding activities, leaves her alone a lot more so she will have the chance to be with her dad and sister.

So, the point is, both Branch and Poppy feel pretty alone when it comes to their families. Branch's family still have to sort through the abandonment, the near deaths, Branch's grey period (that gets brought up once and Branch shuts it down immediately), and Poppy is experiencing strong family jealousy, all the while their closest friends are not hanging around them to give them a chance to be with their family. So obviously, they stick together.

On one of their dates, as they stick together after a fight with their respective siblings, the two fall down into a large hole, hitting a giant flower, which immediately latches onto them. They are knocked out, as the flower roots through their memories to make copies of them. Doppelgangers. The flower is carnivorous and wants to spread itself, so it makes doppelgangers of the local fauna while extremely slowly eating its victims.

Hours later, when most Trolls are starting to get worried and look for the two, the doppelgangers emerge. The flower is mildly sentient, understanding that these two are important to the Trolls, and so they are near perfect copies. Later doppelgangers will have more and more mistakes until it builds enough material again.

But, they have flaws. Their colder, more snappy, as the latest memories in Poppy and Branch's minds (that wasn't that they love each other) was the fight they had with their siblings earlier that day. It didn't even have to be a big or significant fight, but the doppelgangers latched onto that anger and amplified it.

So now the couples' family and friends have to figure out that that's not their family/friends, before Poppy and Branch die and more Trolls will be taken. Doppelganger Poppy and Branch push for the flower's seeds to be planted around Troll Village and Trollstopia, making it more powerful, while being sweet with each other and snappy with everyone else.

Another thing is that this flower is old, like really old. Before music old. Not sure if its the same, or just the same species, but... Before music, doppelgangers were one of the most dangerous threats to a Troll. Part of the defense and safety Music provided, was a defense against the Doppelgangers as they can't play music. At all. A reason why the Strings of Music was so powerful it could even turn you into a different genre, was because it could instantly kill a doppelganger, and eventually it was reduced to one creation flower deep underground, forgotten by time.

The "no music" bit might clue the others in quickly enough, if the siblings weren't so intent on apologizing to the younger ones, and ignoring all signs that that's not Poppy or Branch.

Not sure who else will be turned into a doppelganger... Trollstopia characters, probably, even if I have watched very little of that show. Some of the Snack Pack as they start realizing? Another leader as they come to visit? Who knows?

But it will be angsty >:) Because I love angst >:) It can have a good ending (doppelgangers fucking blasted by the power of music and Poppy and Branch are saved) or bad ending (everyone dies rip) >:)

Thanks for the ask ^^

#dreamworks trolls #that's not my troll au #that works for an au name right??? #anyway the sillies are in pain just like I will be next week with three exams #but that song i mentioned is really good so check it out #it has the vibes i want for doppelganger poppy and branch #might actually flesh this further out but I make zero promises of a fic

[cooledtured]

The Loving Defender’s Return

Yubel. A somewhat notorious archetype known for a lot of potential, but stopped by its own nature. While they have powerful effects, they were unfortunately not enough to warrant creating entire decks around. Thus Yubel fell into obscurity with the only thing keeping it alive being nostalgia. However, that changes now.

One of Yubel’s biggest downsides was its summoning requirements. Due to being level 10, you would need to sacrifice two monsters just to bring it out. This meant that you would need to waste at least two turns on it when you could instead spend that time doing something else. This combined with its maintenance cost made it almost pointless to summon. ‘Samsara Regenerating Lotus’ addressed both of these issues. With the ability to tribute itself to bring out Yubel and to then bring itself back again to pay for Yubel’s maintenance, it made actually using it a none issue.

For those times when you find yourself with an open field, ‘Spirit of Yubel’ is there for you. Summoning itself for free upon an attack from your opponent as well as a searcher for your Yubel Spell/Trap makes it a great starter. This card, as well as Yubel in general, work especially well with their newest spell Nightmare Pain. Thanks to this card your opponent can longer pass their turn without attacking as they are now forced to attack a Yubel monster if they can. This combined with the other effect of ‘Nightmare Pain’ essentially doubles any damage they would receive upon attacking one. This essentially makes Yubel less reactionary as you can now attack into monsters and deal actual damage with Yubel.

One of Yubel’s best effects allows it to grow stronger once it is destroyed. However there hasn’t been a consistent way to trigger this before. This changed though with Nightmare Pain’s final effect which allows you to destroy Yubel in order to search for even more Yubel related cards. When combined with the other new spell Mature Chronicle, you can eventually search out the powerful ‘Super Polymerization’. This will allow you to clear the board by summoning Yubel’s newest boss monster ‘Yubel – Das Ewig Liebe Wächter’. Thanks to having generic materials, it is possible to get rid of your opponent’s monsters as well as burn them for each one used.

Each of these new cards helps to address a problem that Yubel needed help with as well as giving benefits to doing so. This has made it so Yubel no longer has to rely on outside cards and can instead focus on its own playstyle. So watch out for if you’re not careful, you might fall victim to the loving defender.

Logan Floyd-Mcgee | Writer POP-COOLEDTURED SPECIALIST cooledtured.com |  GROW YOUR COLLECTION

#YubelReborn #FieryFates #DarknessResurrected

[takalzuoom]

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!

omg i wrote this today and i’m actually really proud of it🙈

and literally as we speak i’m editing an azul one that i might scrap

i’ll get to work on the requests tmw so if you requested smthn dw! i didn’t forget about you!

cw : jamil literally hates kalim in this 😟, thoughts about hypnosis

Attached at the hip, that's what Jamil used to describe you and Kalim. You weren’t even from Scarabia yet you were, always seen with each other.

Like now, you were both in the lounge of Scarabia giggling away as you were both squished next to each other on the couch.

He clicked his tongue, sauntering back to the kitchen to finish preparing lunch for Kalim, and by extension you.

And even if the door closed he could still hear your and Kalim's insistent laughter.

Like the boiling water in front of him, an ugly, monstrous feeling bubbled up inside of him, the wooden spoon acting as one of Floyd’s victims.

“Shit”

Quickly turning off the stove, he rushed to the sink and immediately turned on the cold water. He couldn't do much but stare at him. His thumb glided against his palm, the back of his hand still in the running water as he continued to play with it.

“I fucking hate him” he whispered, throat tightening as he moved to hunch over the sink, hands fisting his hair as his eyes clenched, the sound of rushing water forcing its way through his thoughts.

Why did he always win? Why couldn’t Jamil win for once?

He turned off the water.

Couldn't Jamil actually get something in his life? Couldn't he have you hanging off his arm rather than Kalim's?

He had everything. Never lifting a finger and yet he had the world… So why must he also have you? Why must you be added to one of the treasures he can only 'look and not touch?'

He was always standing aside as both go about your day, always rolling a red carpet for his ‘master’ to steal your heart. Always fetching you for Kalim and not himself.

he leered at the bottom of the sink, gripping the edge as steam blew out of his ears

No matter how hard he tries to distance himself from Kalim, no matter how hard he tries to talk to you, tries to impress you- there's no way you’d fall for a servant- no way you’d notice him for him rather than a measly shadow.

And it wasn't your fault, no of course it wasn't. You didn't know better. Being hypnotized by Kalim's charms wasn't your fault but rather Kalim's.

Everywhere he's failed Kalim was always around the corner.

It's always 'Kalim this, Kalim that.’ everywhere he goes. He’s so fucking tired of Kalim running everything for him.

It was Kalim's fault you weren’t in love with I’m, it was Kalim’s fault you two weren’t lovers, it was his fault for taking you away.

What if he fixed that… he leaned on his palms. What if he were to make you hate Kalim… what if he were to make you…love…him?

“In and out Jamil, in and out” he pushed away his thoughts. Going back to the stove he started stirring again as he got a hand full of veggies.

“You can't hypnotize them both- you cant hypnotize them at all…” he mumbled, leaving it off there as he continued scurrying around the kitchen, the silence comforting him he didn't have to pretend to not care about the two of you.

Though something he should know if Kalim, silence means something is up.

“Uh Jamil-“

He tensed at the sound of your voice, the kitchen door creaking open as you peaked your head through.

“Is there anything you need perfect?”

“Uhh.. well” your voice creaked as you rubbed your neck hesitantly. Jamil kept his back towards you as he did busy work.

“Kalim-” of fucking course he scowled, “said he was going to eat in the cafeteria so you don't have to worry yourself about cooking…”

“… I see, then I will accompany him immediately-“

“I wait- he said he was going alone… to h- eat with some friends!”

“ Is that so?” He jested, turning off the stove, only to be met the smiling perfect.

“Problem is, he only eats my food and doesn’t miss a meal- and I know that he hates wasted food so if there is something you want to tell me, I think now is the appropriate time”

his eyes sharply glanced down to your drumming fingers before meeting your gaze again.

“Yeah he said that he wasn’t hungry and that he wanted you to have a day off and not worry about him-“

“Hey-“

“So I came in here to tell you and he said that if I wanted to I could have what you made since you already might have eaten something so here I am now-“

“Y/n-“

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling”

“Oh… I see”

Jamil sighed as you took a seat on the island, head perched on your palm as you stared at the pot beside him

“If you wanted something all you had to do was ask if you want something don't be afraid to ask”

“… you sure? I wouldn’t want to be a burden-“

He pushed off the stove, walking towards you with furrowed brows “There is no burden here“ besides Kalim, his static expression broke for a millisecond at the thought of the boy's name.

“I’m sorry” he apologized, sitting down next to you,

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Pardon?” You asked, looking at him with as much surprise as your voice held.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” He said

“What?- no-no- god no. If anything I feel like I’m the one making you uncomfortable with how much Kalim and I hang out. I feel like I’m being a nuisance to you since you already have so much to do…”

“You know I’d make time…” he muttered, trailing off as the image of you and Kalim shone across his mind.

“And i dont want to get in the way of your relationship with kalim so-“

“The relation-what?”

Your eyes bore into his as you leaned in closer to him, eating up every inch and crevice of his face.

“I’m sorry but me Kalim aren’t dating, far from actually. We’re just really good friends I guess”

His whole body heated up at the news. Rip Jamil who prided himself to be so much smarter albeit secretly than half of the school wasn't able to piece 2 and 2 together.

God.

There was a war going on in his mind. Where he was flipping desks and breaking windows into thousands of pieces.

“Oh. I see. my bad”

You snorted, pinching your nose as you continued to laugh despite Jamil's clear growing scowl.

“I’m sorry but Kalim… as much as I love the dork- he’s wayy too high maintenance for me"

You smiled at him, noticing his body relax as you looked him in the eyes. Not at the pot that was left to rot, or stare at him angrily- but you actually looked at him

Saw him

And it was as if the reign of the horse was let go as his mouth took control.

“That’s a relief to hear. As it was going to be awkward to find that out after I asked you to dinner. My treat”

#anime x reader #anime #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst jamil viper #takalzuoom

[minzart]

Now I'm curious about the rest of the students who hopped on to the “our dear little host~” trend? (Leona? Jade&Floyd? Jamil? Lilia? Oh god what about Rook??) Also how would Arthuro act if he was on NRC Host (I headcannon that he's the person who sent the anonymous letter if he was in this AU xD)

Riddle

He thinks it's how they are suposed to refer to Yuu for now on, it's a more endearing nick name than "radio host" that's for sure

He when after Malleus, the circle repeats this week, so you can imagine how he's confused, then apologised, but inside HE'S DIEING TO SEE THOSE CHEEKS FLUSH AGAIN PLEASEEEE YOU'RE SO CUTE

In the end he finishes gets out of the house and- you guessed it!

Riddle felling cheeky tonight: that was a very pleasant conversation Yuu! Thank you for inviting me again

Yuu: it was nothing! I'm sorry chat called you strawberry boys btw, but it is a cute nick name and they won't let you scape it, belive me I tried

Riddle: all is forgiven. And Yuu

Yuu: Yes?

Riddle: sleep well... my dear littlr host

Yuu implodes and Riddle is giggling the hole way back to Heartslabyul

Deuce

Like Ace he joins in the bullying, YOU'RE JUST TOO CUTE WHEN EMBARASED XD

Cater

He's the mastermind behind the new #ourdearlittlehostmoments wich are compilations of all the times Yuu said embarrassing thing or acted baffled by something

He will tease Yuu one time per day in the chat and rise a wall of spam of DEAR LITTLE HOST DEAR LITTLE HOST DEAR LITTLE HOST! When Yuu is acting too serious

Trey

If Yuu visits Heartslabyul and stay too long alone with Trey, he'll be precise~ when he hear footsteps close enough

He's whispers in Yuu ear "I hope you appreciate this dessert... my dear little host"

Yuu will implode in a pink puff and people will walk in becoming extremely confused bc Yui is trying to compose themselfs while Trey is wearing his most innocent face

Leona

No shame at all call's Yuu much dear littel shot the hole time he's there, he usualy sends Rughie bc he's too lazy to go BUT THAT WAS A DECLARATION OF WAR, and a free chance to fluster Yuu is always welcome~

Literaly purrs the frase out you can se chat basicaly beting Who will snap first to initiate the kiss dear host or purring boy? "Just make out already!" Makes Leona laugh so hard he falls out of teh chair

Ruggie

Teases Yuu when in public spaces but is careful to only both hear it, loves their reaction so much, that his revenge for "donut boy"

Jack

He only uses it in the show, he doesn't tease Yuu with it during the day, but you can see his tail wagging when he got a reaction from Yuu during radio time

Idia

He joins in the #ourdearlittlegostmoments

Probably uses without thinking when he was forced by Ortho to participate in persson

Both are blushing messes by the end and chat found a new victim to mess with

He does not have the guts to use the name on purpose, he doe suse "our dear little host: but "my"? My is just too much for him. Chat had to donated to make him say "My deat dear little host" and his attempt is golden to this day, more flustered than Yuu

Ortho

The most innocent one right with Kalim, he's just joining the fun! Prefect looks so happy and they said he's cute saying it too!

Rook

Somebody help Yuu, Rook is doing poetry with that nickname

Yuu knows very well who is sending that one ginormous post with flowery lenguage in the #ourdearlittlehost tag, they know it's you hunteroflove, honestly Rook can try to tease Yuu but Yuu has the ultimate weapon! NEIGE LEBLANC VOICE LINES

Yuu calls him Simp and chat loves it so much he's one of the faves just bc it's very easy to pick on him if you know what to use

Epel

Joing Ace and Deuce, he's adoring how easy Yuu is to fluster, gremling having a good time

Lilia

Greats Yuu by My dear little host each time he has to pass by Hamshackle, ah the false of youth, look at those rosy cheeks

Silver

Had no Idea what the fuck was going on and uses bc he thinks is appropriate bc of Yuu's friend doing it ONLY TO MELT YUU OH SEVEN WHAT DID HE DO???

Sebek

Does not uses it, and refuses to do so, but Acea, Deuce and Epel uses so often blows his vow once or twice

Arthuro

HEADCANON ACCEPTED

He's mad bc he didn't used "my" first, wished he knew who dear host was and how to participate in the radio, Yuu's voice is just so cute and their reactions even cuter~

He thanks the seven that he has a friend that discovered NRC radio station in it's early days, it's very useful to know what the other school's up to, and the tea ofcourse, his favorite was that one time someone spiked the teaches drinks and they all become rowdy kids, the students had to pursue them around the school, it was his best prank to this day~ and one of Yuu's best narratives too

Is over the moon when Ambrose asks him to participated he makes a show to pronounce "My~ dear little host" prefers not to say it was him who created the nick name, that's his little secret and guilty pleasure

#NRC radio #twst oc arthuro

[hhjs]

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary  —   Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

 You accept it. 

 For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

 Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all. 

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour.  Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe.  While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him. 

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell. 

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

 Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose.  You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger  stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

 You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night.  See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart. 

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.”  he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

 “I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

 Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've  passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side. 

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous. 

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it. 

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say. 

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

— 

Kiss underneath a mistletoe. 

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right. 

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different.  Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

  Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

 He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

— 

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh.  Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

 Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you?  "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."  

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know.  Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

— 

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of  honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear,   "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

#kwritersworldnet #stayhavennet #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfiction #skz fluff #skz angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #jeongin x reader #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

[bbq-hawks-wings]

What was the fandom like after Hawks killed Twice? I joined after Supernatural ended.

So this is just my perspective on the fandom drama as I was going through it. My experiences may not be typical of everyone, even other Hawks stans, but this was how it went down for me.

An important thing to keep in mind is that there were two major groups of "Hawks stans" at this time - one that wanted him to side with the League and betray the heroes (and this was a huge portion of vocal and popular stans at the time) and one side that believed in what's clearly now the canon direction of him remaining loyal to the heroes which was at least considerably less vocal about their theories on where canon would go.

Up to the Hawks/Twice fight there was so much back and forth about whether he would switch sides because that first group I mentioned earlier also happened to be mostly those kind of extreme LoV stans that believed they were revolutionists out to make the world a better place and were the true, secret protagonists of the story; and thus Hawks, an undeniable victim of the toxicity of Hero Society, turning his back on the heroes would prove their belief that the heroes were unequivocally corrupt and evil and that justice was on the side of the League of Villains.

Surprise! That's not what happened.

The fight between Hawks and Twice translated into mess within fandom to begin with and only got worse when Twice was subsequently killed and Dabi came after him. But then something awful in real life happened to make it worse:

The video of George Floyd's death went viral only days before chapter 266 dropped - a real life incident that stoked the fires for discussion about corruption of law enforcement and the use of deadly force on a suspect/perpetrator.

For a minute it didn't just feel like fandom hell, I felt like there was an actual war about to happen in fandom that I hoped was going to stay within the confines of the internet but I also worried that some might fall into the deep end.

People screamed and some "canon compliant" fans were threatened and harassed from people who were on "the other team." Some of those harrased went dark and left the fandom because of it. Indiscriminately, the angry group lashed out at anyone who remotely defended Hawks or the heroes, calling us bootlickers, apologists, and the absolute cream of the crop that shows you how bad it got:

There were angry fans who blatantly broadcasted a "joke" - "true Hawks stans support the extrajudicial murder of mentally ill people." This actually happened, and people were getting hate anons constantly over the topic for a while.

I'm not even kidding when I say this straight hatred was everywhere and had nothing to do with the real life political beliefs, or real life experiences of those who sided with heroes and everything to do with the fact that Hawks betrayed the League (like we always knew he was going to) and because those fans couldn't really take out their anger on a fictional character they decided to take it out on real people instead.

Most of us just ducked our heads and stayed out of the tags as we waited for it to be over.

But the good news is that even though the Hawks/Twice discourse STILL hasn't died out yet, the fandom is much safer again with the new wave that came in right about the time you joined, anon! The new fans who hadn't been steeped so long in the still-small social climate of the Hawks Stan community were unapologetic in their defense of him after they saw the discourse blow up, and now it's honestly so much better because of it. Yes, we still have people mischaracterizing Hawks; but that's nothing compared to the outright warpath some fans were on. Some of us older stans had to outlearn the bad habit of defending him and correcting every post character bashing Hawks, but it's a small price to pay for the fans we have now that love him so much.

Long story short, you newer stans are my heroes; and I'm so glad to share my previously tiny fandom space with you all! I feel in much better company now.

#she speaks

[lemontwst]

— anonymous asked: Hello yes you're doing great work here by making this blog and I can't wait to start reading stuff from you! Can I request a gender neutral reader that loves spoiling their partner and turning them into a complete blushing moaning mess? N/sfw obviously and featuring the Octavinelle boys and Riddle. Thank you!! 🤤💖

aww thank you for being our first request, sweetie! i went with a bunch of small scenarios since you didn’t specify, i hope that’s okay!

𝓐𝔃𝓾𝓵 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸

Azul has no idea how to handle you, in or out of bed. He tries so hard to pretend like your affection doesn’t faze him, but he always has to keep himself from leaning into your touch like a lovestruck fool. He can’t show weakness, he won’t, Azul repeats the command in his head like a mantra, but his body is much more honest than his words.

“No, this is… ah!” Your tongue circles his erect nipple before your plump lips clamp down and suck. The high-pitched moan that comes out of his mouth makes Azul want to crawl in his pot and die. Shame and bliss fill his hazy mind in a cocktail of euphoria and he almost tears up. I-I’m scared! I’m- I’m glad! I’m happy! He gasps and throws his head back when your hand starts pumping his throbbing dick, your touch gentle but firm. His precum and your fingers make a filthy sound that sends wave after wave of excitement down his abdomen. He lives for the way you touch him. It’s so loving and kind and so fucking erotic. The way you’re able to expose all his weaknesses makes him want to entrust them to you.

Subtly, as if he’s not moaning like a virgin when you’re just giving him a handjob, Azul spreads his legs in a meek sign of surrender, cheeks flushed and forehead glistening with sweat. You lick your way up from his chest to his collarbones, murmuring words of adoration as you kiss his skin. “If you keep teasing my dick like that…! I’m going to cum…” Azul turns his face away, and you know for a fact that if you stop moving your hand right now, your lovely octopus boyfriend will start to cry. He whimpers when your hand picks up the pace, a willing victim to your teasing despite all his protests, and when you finally bring him over the edge, his beautiful voice calling out your name gives you all the satisfaction you need.

𝓙𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱

Your relationship with Jade is a perfect give and take. You know how much he loves to spoil, coddle and service you, and nothing makes you happier than returning each favor and seeing his unflappable composure crumble under your fingertips.

The clear mixture of your saliva and his precum is the perfect lubricant for your skilled lips, your cheeks bulging as his cock slides into your inviting mouth over and over again. His dick feels hot and heavy on your tongue, your humid breaths forcing a cacophony of tiny little gasps out of his polite lips. You pull away to give his shaft a long lick from the base to the frenulum, making a satisfied sound in the back of your throat that makes Jade’s head spin. With a thin line of saliva connecting your mouth to the head of his dick, lips shiny and smeared with precum, you gently remind him that you love him sooo much~

“Is that so…” Jade gives you that evil little smile of his, but it loses its edge when he looks so  deliciously lustful, brows furrowed and face flushed crimson. The air between each word comes out as a little hot puff. His fingers twitch and dig into the leather sofa of the lounge as he fights against the primal urge to push you down onto his rock-hard dick until you gag. “Then I guess you’ll need to suck it all out until I’m satisfied.” He licks his lips, the movement slow and deliberate before he gives your head a little pet. “I will indulge in your company for a little longer...” His voice is melodious and his touch is gentle, until he suddenly slams his cock into your mouth all the way to the base, firmly keeping you head in place against him. His yellow eyelight swims with desire as he smirks down at you, “You don’t mind, do you?~”

𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔂𝓭 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱

Floyd was always clingy, but you have turned him into a monster. Sitting in his lap and trapped in his arms, you’re bouncing so eagerly on his dick, squeezing him in your welcoming warmth and turning his every thought into syrup. He lets you love him alright! But it’s always at his pace and it’s never enough. When you wrap your arms around him and try your hardest to please him, it makes Floyd feel more alive than anything, like you’re methamphetamine. Mine. Mine mine mine. He moans and cackles as your slick walls tighten around him. Your insides are like a warm cloud…he was born to be loved like this, he’ll let you do dirty things to him forever and ever!

“You’re so cute, (y/n)-chan…” His pupils are little hearts as he looks down at you, drool dripping down his chin and mouth red and bruised from how much you have kissed it, “You like looking at my face when I cum, don’t you? Here, look ve~ery closely!” He grabs your hips and bounces you violently on his dick, the fast-paced friction making him jolt and hiss under you as his abdomen tightens. The room turns upside down and suddenly Floyd is lost in the feeling of you squeezing him, helplessly hurtling towards his climax, his throat going raw from how loudly he’s moaning. Then his entire body stiffens, his mouth falls open and his tongue lolls out while his seed fills you up and then leaks out in an obscene display.

After mercifully giving you a few moments to catch your breath, he roughly grabs your face and gives you a sloppy kiss, his long tongue claiming ownership over your mouth, then he pulls away and gives you a dopey smile that is all teeth, “Keep mating with me lots, okay?~”

𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼

It took a minute for Riddle to get used to being so...adored. You touch him like he’s a divinity, an idol to be admired and worshipped, imperfections and all. Your kindness never falters, not when he makes mistakes, not when he’s rough with you, not when he’s vulnerable beneath you, naked from the waist down and legs helplessly spread and trembling.

You are his first everything, but somehow everything feels good when you do it. You got him used to the feeling of your fingers stretching his ass, the hole dripping with lube and saliva from when you got him to suck on your fingers. “Wh- why does something so perverted...feel so good...?” Riddle moans quietly and desperately reaches for your shoulders when you gently touch that special spot inside him. His fingers dig into your shoulders but you don’t mind, cooing sweet words down at him as you relentlessly massage his prostate. I’m being wrecked! I’m totally unmatched! It’s like you're pushing this button that makes him come on every press, Riddle throws his head back as he comes undone for the third time that evening, eyes misty and mind blank.

He both loves and hates the way you don’t relent, placing a sweet kiss on his open mouth while your fingers smear his cum over the head of his exhausted dick.

“(y/n)...” He softly calls out to you. He’s tired but still so damn horny, it’s like his head is melting. “There is no way I could avoid falling in love after being wanted so much…!” He weakly drapes an arm in front of his eyes, ashamed and yet still buckling against your fingers like a bitch in heat,  He shyly looks up at you, chest heaving and eyes swimming with desire, “Don’t stop, please…”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #riddle rosehearts #citrus #gn reader #scenario #my brain: nooo you can't make floyd a heathen in your very first ask!!! #me: haha honry eel go brrrr

[bellasweetwriting]

Black Coffee

Spencer Reid x f.reader

(not my gif)

masterlist

Request: I just saw your post about wanting to write for reid. could i request a fluffy fic about reid falling for a barista at a local coffee shop and the. he realizes she also works at his favorite bookstore or record store? ahhh i’m sorry it’s a lot ! thank you in advance!

warnings: some criminal minds stuff but mostly just fluff

word count: 1290

— • • • —

Morgan and Emily arrived at the office with coffees for everyone. They started giving them out, and Spencer was the only one that questioned that selfless action.

"What's this?" Asked the Doctor, drinking from the black coffee that was given to him. "What's the occasion?"

"There's this new coffee shop around the block and Morgan and I decided to try it, then we bought coffee for the team."

Reid nodded. He knew which coffee shop they were talking about, and he had visited also but decided to keep that information to himself.

"Prentiss, Morgan—" called them Hotch—" thanks for the coffee. Everyone conference room. JJ has a case for us."

"And the day couldn't get better."

The team entered the conference room and sat in their usual seats, Reid was doodling the handwriting of the barista on his cup, unfocused of the victims in the screen.

"Three victims, three of them blonde, two seventeen-year-olds and one with forty six."

"How does that murder connects with the other two?" Asked Morgan. "We sure it's the same killer?"

"The two blondes, Amanda and Alice, were best friends and both had another friend who's the daughter of the forty-six-year-old woman called Marie. That’s how they were connected. Besides, it's the same signature, same way of placing the body on the ground... same guy."

"And how does her daughter look like?" JJ projected the photo of a seventeen-year-old girl with brown hair. "Huh... interesting. Wheels up in 30."

— • • • —

The team caught their unsub. It was the daughter Gabriella’s boyfriend Jason who found out that her friends were talking bad behind their back and her mother was abusing her psychologically. He was trying to get rid of all the bad and hypocrite people in Gabriella’s life, thinking by killing them he was saving his girlfriend from these double-sided people on her life.

"I think we should celebrate, " interfered Garcia with a tiny smile, "we have work tomorrow so no drinks but, the coffee shop you mentioned is still opened. We can eat some doughnuts and I'm definitely craving for a lemon cake."

"It's too late, baby girl, " said Morgan, "tomorrow morning."

No one joined Penelope’s plan except Reid, who quickly stood up when everyone left and reached Garcia on the elevator.

"I'll join you, " he said in a hurry, and she smiled. "I’m starving for some coffee"

"Me too. The coffee this morning was so good." Spencer nodded. How could he tell her he wasn't going to that coffee shop only for the black coffee they served.

Both sat down at the counter and started talking about the case and how they caught the guy. Spencer tried to show Penelope how Morgan entered the unsub’s house with the sugar bags and she cackled as she heard how Derek almost tripped with a piece of furniture as he was going to catch the guy.

"Doctor, " you called him from the other side of the counter, confusing Garcia, "if I didn't know you better I would’ve said you are following me." Garcia quickly noted how Spencer got nervous. "But as I said, I know you. Black coffee."

"Please, Y/N, and a latte for my friend Garcia."

"The tech analyst?" You questioned.

"Actually, technical analyst, but close, " corrected you Spencer with a tiny smile. "How you’ve been, Y/N? What happened to the record store?"

You used to work at Reid’s favorite record store, and before that, you worked at his favorite bookstore. You kept crossing paths with him. Now you worked at the coffee shop near the BAU office.

"Got fired. I put Pink Floyd on the speakers of the store and I accidentally poured coffee on the controls and destroyed the panel." Reid laughed, nearly choking on coffee. Garcia looked at him really confused.

He has never spent so much time without spilling random facts or acting weird. He was acting cool and that was weird from him.

"That's such a Y/N thing to do." You giggled.

"Oh, Morgan and Prentiss were here yesterday and you are completely right, he does flirt with every girl." Reid nodded after you finished telling. "It's so good to finally meet you, Penelope, heard so much about you."

"Same thing, Y/N." And with that, you left to another table, leaving Garcia and Spencer alone. "Who is she?"

"You can't tell the team, Garcia, " said quickly the doctor as he inhaled deeply. "As soon as I tell them about her the tiny amount of privacy I've gained this last three months is going downhill."

"Ok, fine, I won't. This is why you wanted to come here?" He nodded. "You like her!"

"Shh!" Spencer quickly shushed her friend with his eyes wide open. "Don't shout, Garcia!"

"I can't believe you like her, " she whispered, excited about this new discovery. "You talked to her about us?"

"Yeah, " Reid murmured with a tiny smile forming on his face, "she’s the best and she listens to everything I say, including the nonsense babbling. Do you think I got a chance?"

"Uhm, yeah! She’s crazy about you. You should ask her out. Look, I'm gonna go with my lemon cake and my coffee to the office so you can be alone with her." Reid quickly started shaking his head but Garcia was already leaving. There was no coming back.

A few seconds later, you approached the daughter placing the rag on your shoulder, glancing confused over Spencer who seemed really nervous.

"Everything good, Doc?" You asked and he gave you a nervous smile. "What's up with the tech?"

"She had to leave. Work on a case, " he lied even though he was a terrible liar.

"Shouldn't you be leaving too, then?"

"Oh, no, no... it wasn't my case... it wasn't... it was hers, " he stuttered making you chuckle a bit. "Hey, Y/N."

"Spencer, " you called him too to release the tension.

"Would you want to go out sometime?" He asked quickly, taking to by surprise.

"With you?" He nodded. "I would love to. Actually, my shift ends in ten minutes. You maybe wanna catch a movie or something?"

"I would love that."

— • • • —

Spencer arrived late to work the next day, he looked tired and he had bags under his eyes, barely even able to stand on both feet.

"What train ran you over, pretty boy?" Asked Morgan, getting the attention of the whole team. "You look terrible."

"Thanks, Derek, " he said trying not to close his eyes. "I stayed up late."

"Adding numbers or some?" Questioned Derek again sitting on top of Spencer’s desk.

"I had a date."

Those four words gained the attention of everyone. Spencer Reid had a date. That couldn't be possible.

"Oh my God! She said yes!?" Yelled Garcia and Reid nodded with a smile. "I knew it!"

"You know this girl, Garcia?" Asked Emily and Penelope nodded.

"Yeah, I do, " admitted her while Reid smiled. "How was it, Reid?"

"We went to the movies, then we had food and then I drove her home and kissed her." Penelope couldn't hold the excitement. "Calm down, Garcia."

"When are you going out again?"

"Tomorrow, " replied Spencer. "I went to the coffee shop this morning and asked her out again. She said yes and gave me a black coffee with my name on the cup."

"You asked the barista out?" Questioned Emily. "What's even going on?"

"She drew a little heart next to the «r», " whispered Penelope with a big smile, almost melting by the action. "She's perfect."

"I know, " whispered Spencer, drinking from the cup with a tiny smile, thinking of what happened the night before with you.

requested by: @artcozy

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #fanfic #fanfiction #y/n #reid #pov