Can someone explain to me why people only "like" things on here now? It's so confusing because it's not what this platform is meant to be.

When I look at edits I made in 2016, 2/3 of the notes are reblogs and 1/3 are likes. Now it's 1/4 reblogs and 3/4 likes. No wonder new content is hard to find when you don't search through tags every other day. Or scroll your dashboard for hours to find stuff.

Tumblr is about reblogs so your dashboard gets this weird "20 reblogs of the same thing" look and you discover new things because people reblog new stuff.

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader

Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍

From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

afab!Version

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

Prompt 38: Break (Royalty Part 3)

Part One

Part Two

Masterpost of Stories (92 prompts)

Finally, after so many months, they're back. I might make another part of these two before I move on but, who knows. Anyway, enjoy!

Summary: Estelle's first day living a new life in the giant kingdom. Things look gloomy for her but, perhaps her safest company is the one she most used to fear.

...............................................................

Estelle did not sleep that night.

Yes, the prince conveyed his true intentions when he said he would not bother her. He kept his word as he lowered her in front of her new house and let her be by herself for the night.

And yes, the dollhouse exuded luxury. Its intricate decorations carved in marble or wood. But the furniture's rough finishing gave away the fact that a giant made the structure. A sumptuous, plush bed lay at the center of her new bedroom, even bigger than the one back at her home.

Yet, Estelle tossed and turned while her heartbeat rocked faster against her chest. She closed her eyes, but shot them wide open when a tremor shook the house. Or when she heard the creaking of metal springs from the prince's bed when he moved on it. Every single amplified noise from the giant made her shudder. The sultry air increased her shortness of breath.

She turned on the bed for the millionth time that night, reaching for her doll, but her arm met empty space. She forgot to bring it alongside her suitcase.

Estelle's arm slumped, gripping the sheet of the bed instead. She buried her head in the thick fabric of the pillow.

'That's right, I am the doll instead.'

At least her mother and father would have a recollection of their daughter's favorite toy.

Her mother and father. When could Estelle hope to see them again?

She felt tears welling up her eyes, but she blinked them down. Gulping down her sobs, again and again, when they clogged in her throat. No, she was not going to cry again. She was a brave girl, wasn't she?

Then, why couldn't tears stop falling down her face? Why couldn't she stop crying?

As if a dam had broken, Estelle hiccupped and sobbed, wetting the pillow with her bitter tears. She missed home, she missed her family. And at the moment, even the thought of glancing at the giant sent shivers down her spine.

Because he reminded her of the reality that has fallen upon her.

Here in the land of the giants, Estelle was no princess. She was no person. Only a toy for their amusement. The conversation with Alaric stirred hope but, how long until he gets bored of her and treats her like an object?

On her first night at the Giants' Kingdom, Estelle wept until dawn came.

Unbeknownst to her, laid on the bed, Alaric could hear every whimper from the little princess.

..............................................................................................

When the birds chirped outside and the room brightened from the rising sun, Estelle got up from her bed. She approached the cloudy mirror in the room, and gasped. Her eyes appeared baggy from the lack of sleep, and her hair doubled in volume and frizz, braids undone. The purple dress she wore wrinkled, a result of not changing into her sleeping clothes. Estelle sighed. The reflection in the mirror looked as miserable as the torrent of emotions inside her. Tears resurfaced in her eyes again, but she blinked them away, and took a deep breath. She needed a bath, and water, and food. She combed her hair and, after finishing it, walked through the dollhouse. But when she opened the cabinets, insects and emptiness met her. She turned on the washroom's hose, but no running water came out.

‘Of course, there’s no food or water’. They made that house with toys in mind, not for a human like her. Estelle felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Hunger? Fear? It resurfaced again, harder this time.

No, she had no other choice.

She'd have to ask the giant prince.

The silent room got loud, as the theavy footfalls shook the house. The chandelier swung on the ceiling above her. Estelle's heartbeat hammered against her ribcage, her breathing frantic.

How will she handle this for the rest of her life?

"Princess, are you awake?"

Alaric's whisper thundered in her ears, his silvery, flat voice echoing around her. Having to face those wide, brown eyes as they scrutinized her diminutive frame, feeling the timbre of the prince's vocal cords... No, she deemed such a task impossible, like a knight without armor challenging a dragon. But she had to go out and face him, in order to at least drink water and have a bath, like a decent person would.

The realization of her overdependence on these giants sank deep in the pit of her stomach.

"Are you in need of anything?" - he spoke as if reading her mind. Did he have a nagging feeling? Or was he already breaking his part of their deal?

Regardless, Estelle would have to show herself to him.

With shaking steps, she went to the second floor and reached the balcony, stepping out towards the massive room outside. From where she stood on, Estelle faced the prince's desk, while he and the bed remained out of her field of vision.

She took a deep breath, and exhaled.

"Y-your highness." She whispered in a squeaky voice. No response. The prince would not hear her at this volume. She mustered up courage again, heartbeat accelerated.

"Your highness!" She shouted in a tremulous voice.

Thunderous footsteps amplified as the prince approached her, sending shivers down her spine. Her heart leapt to her throat. Do giants not realize how terribly loud they sounded? The booming steps stopped when a wall of thick, navy blue velvet covered Estelle's vision. It crumpled as he lowered and revealed large, curious brown eyes.

"You're awake." Alaric spoke in the same monotone voice, although his eyes contained a subtle glint of wonder.

Estelle took another heavy breath. It's okay. He has been nice to her so far, she needed to trust he would continue being so.

She had no other choice.

"I... U-um, yes. I... I need something. I'd like some water. There's no water inside here. M-maybe a bath too..."

Her meek voice stuttered the words as she lowered her head and squeezed her eyes shut. Would he be annoyed that she was ordering him around?

"Oh... Right." The prince's fading tone of voice caught her attention, and she looked up. His face remained emotionless, but the rosy tint on his cheeks hinted at his embarrassment.

What an odd reaction.

"I should have figured this out sooner, it's a dollhouse, after all." Alaric rubbed his nose with a hand. "I'll talk to a maid."

Alaric rose and strode out of his room, closing the door with an ear-splitting sound. Estelle stood on the balcony, shocked at how easily he accepted her request. Her heart slowed down to a normal pace.

Although the memory of that embarrassed expression made her heart flutter.

...................................................................................................

'Of course the princess would need basic living conditions'. How could he be so foolish? And of course his father would not provide those. Alaric strode through the lengthy halls. The princess needed to feel comfortable, or she would not be willing to share anything with him. She was already skittish as she is.

Alaric had a hard time sleeping that night. Having a human prisoner in his room contained its fair share of discomfort. But his mood improved a little at the prospect of knowing more about humans. And upon looking at the princess, who looked so small and delicate, yet acted brave and willing to speak to him, his curiosity increased more and more. So, if he wanted to get any information out of her, he needed to make her feel well adjusted to life at the new palace.

He found a maid in the corridor, who greeted him with a curtsy.

"Your Highness, good morning. Breakfast is being prepared, and will arrive shortly at the great hall.”

"I have a request for you. Come with me."

....................................................................................................

Estelle was floating.

The warm water rushed over her head as she dived inside the basin. If she closed her eyes and paid attention only to the sound of rushing water, she could imagine she was back at her palace.

When she resurfaced to breathe, Estelle wished to remain her eyes closed.

"Is the water temperature to your liking, human?" the booming voice stirred Estelle out of her daydream. The giant maid set a massive towel beside the basin, which settled over the stone ground.

'Princess Estelle, not just some "human,"' she thought. But would correcting a massive being even be worth it? The immensity of the giant maid's face intimidated her enough to succumb to fear-induced submissiveness.

She muttered a timid "yes", and the maid let her be inside the washroom.

"Very well. When you're finished, shout out my name".

And the maid stomped out of the room, closing the door with a deafening clink and making her ears ring from the sound. But when the place finally went silent, she sighed in relief. The princess let herself relax, leaving her anxious and painful thoughts behind.

....................................................................................................

After she finished her bath, Estelle got dressed with an elegant, but stiff, basil green dress. She combed each lock of hair until they felt soft against her touch, braiding two of her strands. The texture of her silky locks and the smoothness of her skin filled Estelle with new energy and vigor. Simple, external actions like this could renovate her strength.

Now it came to the matter of calling the giant.

"It's alright, I've done this before." She said to herself. Deep breaths, in and out. She could do it.

"I'm finished!"

Loud stomps rattled the floor she was on. No, Estelle would never get used to this feeling. The door clicked and opened, its towering wood creaking under the force of the maid. Without further word, she kneeled, sending another tremor through the ground...

And snatched Estelle into a first.

"AAH!" the princess screamed, the pressure of the hand expelling air from her lungs. The muscles at her waist burned as the rough, calloused digits tightened around it. She clutched her eyes shut as she left the floor, screaming loud for help. But the maid paid no attention to her pleas.

Why, why would she treat her like that? What has she even done to anger that giant?!

"Let me go! Help!" She yelled from the top of her lungs, to no avail. A thumb pressed against her face, reducing her words to muffled begging.

"Stop bothering the inhabitants of this place." Said the giantess, as she strode out of the washroom, shaking the human with her careless steps.

Shortage of breaths. The air became scarcer as seconds tickled by and the clink and clank of giant heels echoed in the large, infinite corridors. Spinning, everything twisted and turned and blurred as the room, the hand, everything spun around her. Nausea gathered at the pit of her stomach and bile rose in her throat, meeting the hard surface of her teeth before she forcibly gulped it down. The mound of flesh pressed harder against her face and obstructed the passage of air. She heaved, panted, scratched her fingers against the skin and begged for air, but it would not fill her desperate lungs. Tears cascaded down her face. Throat dry from unheard screams. No air in her lungs. She's going to die, she's going to die, she's going to-

'Mother! Help, help me please! Mother!-"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" A blaring voice blasted inside her ears. The pressure against her sides and mouth loosened. Vision turned dark, but recovered shortly after as she saw blurred shapes of a tanned color. Another hand. But a different one. It was a different one. It allowed her to breathe again, so she did, gasping like a fish snatched from the water. Tears fell on the leathery surface.

"Y-your highness?!" The exasperated voice of the maid boomed in the corridor.

"Haven't I told you to treat her with care?! What do you have to say in your defense?" - Alaric's voice lowered.

The maid crumbled to her hands and knees.

"I'm sorry, your Highness! I'm sorry! Please, forgive me!"

His dark eyes glowered at her.

He's a prince, albeit a young one. He held a level of authority over the servants.

He could punish her the way he seemed fit.

“Take her to the disciplinary chamber.”

A guard approached the maid and lifted her up by her arms. He pushed her towards the opposite direction, her face turning pale as she wobbled away from the prince's sight.

Estelle saw nothing besides a few glimpses of the maid far, far away. Her main priority was to focus on her breathing and stop her tears from falling on the prince's hand. But she heard it, and listening to such commanding words from a royal her age sent her shaking to the core. Never in her mind would Estelle think of acting this way, so... Harsh. Cold. The maid frightened her but, what type of punishment would befall that poor soul? No, she will not think about it or the bile in her stomach would threaten to rise in her throat again.

Alaric said no word as he strode, cradling the princess against his chest. The smooth yet fuzzy texture of velvet fabric pressed against her. Warm, so warm.

The prince, not yet used to carrying humans, rocked Estelle back and forth as he walked. Her heart had not stopped beating loudly against her chest, but... Odd. That feeling of danger, the fear that she would die...

They were gone.

..................................................................................................

She trembled. She trembled so much in his hand. Alaric quickened his pace, sending an unseen apologetic look at the human princess. How did it feel to her, being carried over like this?

As for himself, anger threatened to break his composure. Anger at the servant who disobeyed him? Anger that she harmed the human? His human?

Was she his? In a verbatim manner, yes, but that did not feel right.

No. He was only angry at the maid for disobeying orders, that was it. And the princess seemed terrified again, and under heavy stress. So fragile, too fragile. Like a porcelain vase, when a single push makes it fall from its pedestal and it breaks into a million pieces. The small, trembling girl in his hands was alike those broken vases of porcelain.

But he needed her. He needed to know more about these fragile pieces that symbolized the humans. Their culture, mannerisms, looks, the latter so akin to that of a giant's. They held too much untapped potential, hidden history that remained untouched by his kind. She was his key, and he was willing to do what it took to safekeep her.

Alaric opened the door to his room, closed it and locked it. His tutor would have to wait.

He lowered his palm to the desk, and looked at Estelle.

She kept her head down. Tears fell in tiny dots onto the dark wooden table, her tremors clear. She winced as she clutched her side, closing her eyes.

"Are you alright? Did she hurt you?"

No response. Only the faint sound of her sobs.

"Answer me." - He hurried her in a softly spoken voice. Rushing the princess weighed on his conscience, but his time was limited, and waiting would not solve their problem.

The princess gasped and sniffed. She turned her head towards him, but still stared down at the desk.

"... Yes. She, grabbed me tightly, I... I couldn't breathe." Her voice turned quiet.

Was he mad? Would he discard her now that she was hurt? Would he injure her more? She gulped again. No, no more sobs, ‘please Estelle, get yourself together!’

'I'm not brave, Mother. I never was...'

"She'll bear the brunt of her actions."

Alaric sounded even, but the gravely undertone of his monotonous voice hinted at his anger. But, upon seeing the princess wincing and looking down, he controlled his tone of voice. He took a deep breath, and exhaled through his nose.

"I told her to handle you with care. And yet, this happened. I'm sorry, princess."

Estelle shot her head up. Did she hear it right? Or has her mind betrayed her?

Her change of behavior surprised Alaric. She acted like he grew another head, or as if he uttered improper words. But, why?

Her strange reaction compelled the prince to repeat what he had said. This time staring at the tiny set of green eyes.

"I'm truly sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I'm not a physician but, I could bring some poultice to ease the pain."

He reached for the far end of the desk and picked a glass of water, pouring some of the liquid on top of a tea spoon. Alaric then put a saucer next to the glass, with cut pieces of fruit and vegetables.

"I've brought some water, and some food from breakfast too. It's not much, but it can help. Please try to drink and eat some."

With trembling hands, Estelle reached for the tea spoon of water and drank it. It quenched her thirst and soothed the pain from her dry throat. She glanced up at him with wide eyes and, without a word, he poured more water for her.

This giant, the prince, of all people, helped her. When that maid had carried her harshly, the lack of air and the pain all convinced her she would meet her end. However, he prevented those bad outcomes from happening.

Maybe, just maybe, she could hope.

Maybe, just maybe, she could trust him.

After all, even if she currently found herself on top of a giant table, glancing up and up at a giant boy around her age, who watched her with attentive eyes, those striking eyes, which frightened her so at that night when she lost it all...

Despite all that, at least in that moment, he made her feel... Safe.

"Thank you." Estelle's voice, albeit faint and tired, missed the previous trembling it had earlier.

Warmth filled Alaric's heart and soothed his consciousness. Yes, he did the right thing by paying attention to the human and her needs, by treating her like a guest, instead of a toy. A compulsory guest, but... A guest nonetheless. And Estelle gained back some trust towards him. Their agreement was still up.

He just needed a little patience. Humans are broken porcelain vases after all, but...

... He found himself quite fond of putting the pieces back together.

Can you tell us about How to Breathe 101?

Ah yes, the one I am actively, actually most trying to finish (before I got distracted by this week's fullmoonficlet prompt anyway). It's one of my favorite genres in fiction and in this specific fandom it's: Stiles fell first, but Derek fell harder.

It was originally just going to be a short fic about Derek learning to breathe in harmony with his pack. Since panic attacks are so woven into TW via Stiles, I kind of wanted to explore Derek having these kind of slow motion ones. Not necessarily because he wants to be alone but because that's what he knows, that's what he's gotten comfortable with, and holy shit there are so many people depending on him now, relying on him, and actually wanting to be in his space and how does he both accept that and allow himself to rely on that when he knows how transitory everything is?

I really, REALLY love when people miss their window - or, more accurately, perceive themselves to've missed their window and are now pining for someone they know once loved them. Inject that shit directly into my VEINS, please!

The plan was to have a much shorter progression but then I added in a more mage-y magic Stiles, with his power connected to growth and potential and blossoming (because no one can accuse me of being subtle LOL), and gave him an OC love interest so there was a distraction from any possible festering - I really didn't want Stiles to have even a hint of bitterness and that was a good way to be like: don't focus on the pit of despair, have casual sex! And also a good way to get across that Derek's love isn't possessive but rather focused around Stiles' happiness, which is always a big one for me (which is not to say I don't love jealous/possessive stuff, I DO, but sometimes that's just not what ya want). Then I set Stiles' magical edification in Ireland and got distracted with the wind over the bluffs and the sea crumbling cliffs and all that wild, fresh air there is to breathe and that's where I am at the moment.

Snippet:

Stiles takes him up over the bluff, fingers trailing currents as they walk, and they can see the cottage in the distance.  A dilapidated daffodil yellow and foggy gray (once white) thing that looks uninhabited.  It’s hilly terrain but clear as far as the eye can see.  The grass is buffeted up against their calves by the relentless wind and they can hear the ocean even if they can’t see it from where they are. “It’s beautiful,” Derek says. Stiles breathes deep.  “Magic, right?”  He throws a wink over his shoulder before holding out his hands, palm parallel to the ground on either side of him, and closes his eyes.  The long blades of grass shift and swirl and shoot up and up and up, getting larger and wider and greener as they grow, striving to tickle Stiles’ fingers as they pass his knees and hips.  They keep going until Derek has to tilt his head back and the strands twist at the apex above their heads and Derek can’t help the startled sound he makes as the tunnel forms, extending further with every step Stiles takes. The grass doesn’t stay static either, it’s still rustling, braiding itself together, sliding into every empty place, forming an arch above them.  The day darkens around them as they’re sealed off from above. Derek stares, first at the living thing surrounding them, and then at the man in front of him. “I had no idea you were capable of this.” “Neither did I.”  Stiles half-laughs.  “I don’t think Maire or Ciaran did either.  Honestly, I think it freaks them both out a little so, y’know, discretion?  I’ve been trying to do that whole thing.  Cutting back on it a little, pretending everything’s a bit harder, doing a little less than I’m actually capable of.  Not that—I mean, they’re supportive and all but I get the feeling this is new and therefore different for them.”  He drops his hands and the grass unbraids, slithering, sinking back down into the earth as though it was never anything else.  He’s not looking at Derek.  “It’s nice not to have to hedge.” He waits a beat then waggles his eyebrows over the pun and Derek rolls his eyes.

Wip list is here!

I have been missing asis loki more than a tad.

Possible melancholic moments (for him):

Finding out sweetheart isn't pregnant (I feel like he was a bit hopeful)?

The whole Nat situation (especially when it came to light).

Dealing with Narvi's questions after the break(up). I know Narvi missed her loads and that Loki had maybe started to (or did?) see her as a mother to Narvi by then.

I would happily devour anything asis related. I have considered getting it printed but I am worried you might add something new that I wish I could have put it the book too. If it's okay with you, of course?

Hey there anon! I understand missing the fic. It's quite nostalgic for me, as it spanned almost my entire collegiate career. Before I respond to the meat of your message, let me just say: YES OFC YOU CAN PRINT IT!! I don't think I'll add anything to asis, but I do want to revise it a bit more. I have no clue when I'll do that though, so I wouldn't wait or anything. Also... if you print it, remember my beta made a cover for the fic. Also also,,, I would love a copy 🥺🥺🥺

Anyway, onto your actual ask!

Finding out sweetheart wasn't pregnant was a very bittersweet moment for Loki. Loki loves sweetheart, and he knew even at that time that he would want to have kids with her. Meeting sweetheart made Loki ponder over everything he had given up hope for: marriage, a partner, more kids, etc. etc. When it became clear she may be pregnant, it made Loki realize he not only wanted kids, but he wanted them sooner than later due to Narvi's age.

Realistically, Loki knew it was selfish of him to want sweetheart to be pregnant. He also knew - especially after her reaction to possibily being pregnant and the whole breakup situation - that maturity-wise, she wasn't ready. Still, when she told him she wasn't pregnant, it was definitely hard for him to hear. He chose his words very carefully in that moment; recall he said "I'm happy for you. I know that's what you wanted."

In terms of the Nat situation, Loki found it unfortunate, but he didn't ultimately care outside of its effect on sweetheart. He was concerned that she was losing her best friend, but to Loki, who has only had himself, Thor + Jane, and Narvi, it may not have registered as big a deal as it should. Loki was completely fulfilled once sweetheart stumbled into his life, and so I think in a way, he subconsciously assumed it would be the same for her.

On top of that, while Loki can objectively understand he was wrong in the Clint situation (that was how I weaved his status as a villain into asis - I wanted to incorporate all aspects of his character), he made it very clear he didn't regret it. Because what happened with Nat is an offshoot of the Clint thing, Loki would have been even more apathetic to the whole thing. Both Loki and Nat have a bitterness towards each other from that, and it's a bitterness neither could fully ignore for the sake of their relationship with you.

Finally, as we saw in the Loki chapter, Narvi doesn't ask much about you/sweetheart. He simply tells Loki he misses sweetheart. Loki mentions the fact that sweetheart was a mother figure to Narvi during their breakup and the months after. Basically, Loki shut down anytime Narvi mentioned her. We saw him delve back into bad habits (such as the drinking of copious amounts of wine, or not eating) in the months they weren't together, and commiserate in general. I think in this time, Loki provided very little information to Narvi (which we saw him totally beat himself up over in the chapter he narrated). It was hard for both of them. Loki's response to devastating situations is definitely avoidance, and I think that carried over to any of Narvi's questions.

Let me know what you think of all this! Thank you for the ask and your compliments. Ily very muchhhhhhh 🫶

Look, am I completely biased towards Parker because she’s my favorite Leverage character and one of my favorite characters ever? Yes.

Am I still right that Leverage: Redemption (especially season 2) functionally ignores her? Also yes.

The closest we come to getting a Parker-centric episode in Redemption is The Paranormal Hacktivity Job and The Date Night Job. (I’m counting a Parker-centric episode as one where her emotional arc is the one with the most weight/screentime. I can see an argument for The Hurricane Job being Parker-centric in the same way as The Date Night Job but I think Eliot’s arc is given precedent and also I hate The Hurricane Job.) That’s one episode out of 16/13 per season. I can also count on one hand the number of emotional moments she gets outside of those episodes (her convo about Hardison leaving, her being nervous about mentoring Breanna, her being worried about Eliot leaving, her giving Eliot advice about Maria, and I’m literally blanking on any from season 2). Everyone else, new and old, get to have episodes where they face an exceptional challenge, confront their past or something that reminds them of their past, or just get too invested in the client like in og Leverage. But not Parker! She just is there to be comic relief where the joke is look at how weird and zany she is. And sometimes she is allowed to mention that she misses Hardison. (Actually it does feel a little like the show doesn’t know what to do with her without Hardison, and seems to forget that her relationships with Sophie and Eliot are just as deep and important to her as her relationship with Hardison. Which is a little yikes.)

(Also I don’t have a better place to put this but Sophie sending Breanna along with Parker when Eliot’s going to visit his father because apparently nobody trusts Parker to be emotionally competent enough to handle the situation was a line seemingly constructed as a personal attack against me. Parker has been Eliot’s friend for fifteen years! Sophie once believed in her ability to connect to people despite her neurodivergence! Did the writers of this show even watch The White Rabbit Job?!?!)

I was foolish enough for one second to think that The Museum Makeover Job would be about her. One of her international teams need help, and they’re up against an Interpol agent she has a past with. Surely, we will get to see her go into Mastermind mode or reflect on a past job that had emotional weight or confront something challenging for her or get too invested in the con or— oh wait, the Interpol agent is Sophie’s daughter and the whole thing is a ploy to get revenge on her and she and Eliot will have their deep convo about redemption and purpose while Parker talks about vents for the dozenth time? Cool. (And not to be exceedingly bitter, but then also the whole joke is that Parker’s actually the one overly invested in her rivalry and it isn’t important at all to Astrid and we never get a beat of resolution for that at all. Thanks, I hate it.)

My bias might be showing, but Parker is the character in the og series that grows the most, and watching her development is one of the great joys of the original series. She becomes the Mastermind because of how much she learns and changes in front of us. She was allowed to be funny and competent and weird but also emotional and scared and loving and she got to feel things and to learn things and to be things. I used to think that Redemption was exaggerating her neurodivergence in a way that felt ooc, and while that might have some merit, I think the real issue is that they just took away everything else that made her a character. Her being WeirdTM and a TheifTM and ParkerTM is all that remains to a once complex and revolutionary character.

Maybe I should just be glad that I don’t have to watch Redemption potentially butcher her character on the main stage instead of in the background. But it does leave a pretty bad taste in my mouth that she is uniquely sidelined and ignored by a show that once ended by handing her the reigns.

Mankai Stage Act 2 Spring 2022

ACT 2 FINALLY CAME TO MANKAI STAGE!!!

I watched the last available showing on dmm, which was a little more than a week ago, so I'm a bit disappointed that I can't write a more fresh review, but I was busy and now I have the time and energy to write down my thoughts for what I watched.

I have many thoughts and feelings, but the overall feeling I had was just... Tears. I cried so much during this show, lololol. Everyone's acting is so good! You could tell that the actors were really invested in their characters.

I will be honest though, it didn't really feel like a Mankai Stage, stage play. I think it's because I'm so used to with what they were like before, that with the many changes, it felt like I was watching a different production company. Like, the stage for one, is MUCH bigger. I kind of miss that little homely feel that Mankai Stage had previously, but it does give you a sense of, 'wow, Mankai Company grew a lot. No wonder they're able to afford looking for a 6th troupe member.'

And the format changes. Usually, there's two plays per show, but this time there's only one. Which is understandable, since the main stories in Act 2 are so much longer than those in Act 1. If I were to describe this show, then before intermission was centered on Masumi, and after intermission was centered on Chikage.

Speaking of Masumi, another thing that made it feel like a different company was that there were a lot of new actors. Masumi, being one of them. Now, the new actor for Masumi is great. He's a great actor, good singer, etc. But he plays Masumi in a different way than Hikaru did. And that's not his fault, it's just a different Masumi than I'm used to. So I think it'll just take time for me to get used to him. Same goes for Yuzo.

Despite all these changes, Spring 2022 was great. Chikage's actor is awesome! He was really able to capture Chikage's switch, from being the polite, perfect troupe member one moment, to being one second away from committing a crime to the next.

There were so many Gekka scenes. I cry every time. Hisoka, you made me cry every time. And August is there! You can't see his face, but he's there!

Tsuzuru's zombie number was great. Absolutely no lyrics, just him groaning. Yes.

I'm still bitter that there was no Tasuku, lololol.

Also, Mankai Stage is determined to go the same absolutely no-woman-on-stage-route that the game does, since there was no actor for Masumi's grandma. Like. Masumi's dad's secretary had an actor (with a really deep voice), but no grandma, lololol. The actors talk to the audience, just like they do when they talk to the director.

Ok, speaking of director, Chikage does kidnap the audience!!! They blacked out the whole venue, so you see absolutely nothing, and all you hear is Chikage's voice, just as if you were wearing a blindfold. And then suddenly you're in a dimly lit room.

But you know the scene were Izumi bugs Chikage to recite the lines with her? I think they manipulated that scene pretty well using their staging and Sakuya, lol.

One thing I am kind of disappointed about, was there was no family scene with them calling Chikage grandpa (or at least, I didn't catch it), but what I DO APPRECIATE, is that they copied the sleepover scene EXACTLY the same as the CG!!!!! Citron and Itaru cuddled up against Chikage, and Tsuzuru sleeping in that wtf awkward angle, lololol. That scene was just extremely cute.

Oz was done really well. To be honest, it was probably only possible because of the new stage that they got. They played around a lot with their space.

And the actors, once again, were able to greet the audience during the finale! I guess Covid restrictions are lifting in Japan at this time.

Spring 2022 was a lot of fun!!! I can't wait to buy the DVD to watch it again, and the backstage! If any of you watched it, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!

On Thirteen's regeneration

Okay this is just me trying to put my thought in order and trying to figure out why this particular regeneration has felt so special and why it also feels like they didn't carry it all the way.

First things first, I'm not saying that the previous regenerations weren't special or emotional, but this one does stick out, and I think the main reason for that is how hopeful it feels. For literally every single regeneration except Thirteen's, we're seeing a Doctor at the end of their rope. Nine's is painful and melancholic after saving Rose and not getting to have more time with her. Ten's lost every single companion, he's incredibly lonely and probably thought he'd get more time to fix that before changing (i.e., 'I could do so much more'). Eleven's childlike sense of wonder has eroded and he has come to accept the things he was trying so hard to run away from (his difficult past, and subsequent refusal of being hurt again) but it makes him wistful. Twelve is so tired at the end of his run he spends an entire episode trying to stop regenerating because he can't bear it and when he finally does, it's half bitter. And Thirteen...well Thirteen looks like this

She is welcoming the future with open hands! Having stepped out of her TARDIS to take in one last sunrise, she'll be damned if she doesn't enjoy it! She's joyous at the prospect of seeing new things, a joy that is only dimly overshadowed by her grief of not being the one to experience them. She's enthusiastic, and playful ('tag, ur it' sure, why don't you shoot me) and generally just hopeful for what's to come and that's such a nice, refreshing new take on the process of regeneration that has been pictured with very similar motifs every time until now.

I'm not saying her last scenes are not painful, or that she doesn't experience anguish because she does, and sure there is something to be said about forced positivity (the Doctor is prompt to do that), but all of these things sorts of fade into the background in the face of her enthusiasm and faith for the future! She's finally reconciled the grief and the love, the happy and the sad, and this episode insisted that she carries what she has seen and felt into the future with the upmost reverence for it all. And this acceptance changes so much!

This is reflected back by the process of regeneration itself: it's not a ticking bomb wreaking havoc in the TARDIS (10 to 11), it's not a blink-and-you-miss it kinda deal (11 to 12), it's not even a run to get her things in order (12 to 13). There's almost a peaceful quality to this regeneration. She surrenders herself to it, she's finally embraced the changing part of her nature, she welcomes it, and doesn't try to run. She breathes deeply and lets it take over.

and look. I do have my problems with how the ending tied other character's arcs and relationships. But Thirteen's regeneration is not one of them. Do I wish Yaz had been there to accompany her to the other side? Yes. But despite that, I think it was one of the loveliest regeneration out there, simply because she's so genuinely hopeful about it.

Which leads me to the main problem. What the hell is the point of portraying all of this painstaking process of learning to let go and accept that there are things you cannot change and learning that moments are finite but that doesn't make them less important if you suddenly put your character back to position A (LITERALLY). Like??? I am genuinely baffled that they shot themselves in the foot with this amount of conviction - how do you miss the themes you brought to screen and obliterate them by having the Doctor be one of his old faces again??? And I love Tennant, I do, but this literally makes no sense, both narratively and in terms of the continuity and the growth this area has tried to establish. No! Damn! Sense! The only way forward with Thirteen's arc was to see the real Fourteenth Doctor beginning anew without joyful optimism! This just feels like a cheap way out, instead of having the courage to carry the message they've been trying to communicate since the first season. ("everything ends and it's always sad, but everything begins again, too. And that's always happy"). Things do change, and it's fine because they should!

So yeah, here's my rant. Might have some other in stock lmao.

Last year to this year...so much changed for me as a fan.. knowing about jkk was soo much fun and I used to be so excited for them whenever any new content released n giggled with my frnd (also a fan). Since January, I started noticing the negativity/hypocrisy of this fd on JM specifically. Slowly the jkk honeymoon phase ended for me. I believe JM ost + the bills controversy was final nail in the coffin which made me into JM fan more than BTS and jkk was off the topic as of now! Seeing your post I felt like yes I am like I got to know about them enough there's nothing much to talk or even the content I had seen (muster sozowoo dvd) didn't helped either, I didn't felt like awww so cute both of them..! Rather it was ohhh so cuteee jimin and that's it! But I say I don't hate other members it's just that I like JM more now..also I don't understand this solo stan word taken as negatively! We r into BTS doesn't mean we will be staning 7of them and keeping updated on all of them?? I agree they are people like this but not everyone can do the same? I think solo stan means staning one member without hating anyone! That could be better and I do believe even the ot7s have their faves in the group! Just my thoughts venting out, last but not the least, sometimes I miss my jkk time period and miss their previous cutesy moments TT

I think everyone gives their own meaning to these kind of words. Solos, OT7, akgae, etc, it's all an invention of the fandoms. So fandoms decide what they mean. Even being an army doesn't mean the same to everyone. I see a lot of people saying they're army but they don't know everything about BTS or are keeping up with their content 24/7.

Even jikookers have the one they like the most, at least a lot of them do. I've seen jikookers talk privately about being "softer" for one, or how it's easier for them to talk about JK or Jimin, even if they love both, they love them in different ways. For different reasons. Different intensity. Most people say they're shy and introverted so they relate to Jungkook so much (which is funny anyways because Jungkook is not shy or introverted lmfao), and that allows them to feel more "connected" to him and "understand" him better than they get Jimin, so they talk more about him and stuff like that, things that very clearly show when a person has a bias.

I've always liked Jimin more than any other member and it's not something I've ever hid. I've always liked him better because I've always agreed with his point of views and actions, and I think the way he goes about life is beautiful and inspiring. I think the way he treats the people he loves should be imitated and I don't think I've ever been disappointed in him when it comes to what he does as an artist. Just to list some stuff. And yet, I don't think I've ever considered myself a "Jimin solo". I didn't even think or cared that much about him having a solo career until the hiatus, when it actually became a reality. With the exception of 2021 and 2022, I've always been fine with his position in the group. As for his personal relationships, the only one I used to care about was jikook. I don't really care about it anymore and that's it. Except for some sadness and bitterness about the fact that I felt almost forced to let go of jikook, not much of fan experience has changed.

Back in like 2017 it was so common for people to even do bias sorters, which was like a little poll where you had to choose between two members and in the end you'd a chart with your results from who you liked the most to the least. And it wasn't controversial at all! It was actually one of the first things people asked you about when you joined the fandom. "Hey, show me your bias sorter results."

For some reason the novelty of it wore off and I haven't seen people talk about bias sorter since like 2019 lol. I think the fandom became more paranoid about people having a clear bias because they could become "solos". Someone once even told Jimmy Fallon that he had to love all seven ijbol. I don't know why they do that. It was a grown ass woman, at that. Please. Even mothers love each of their children in different ways like???

Yeah totally, everyone should be allowed to focus on/support only one or two or three members, and most people will actually do that even if they don't admit it.

1/12/2024

10:44 PM

I wanted to make this a daily thing again, but it seems I can't do that. I mean, I think my dad dying is a pretty good excuse for my lapse in keeping a journal. I wrote my memorial and I'll add it here after I finish today's entry. I shared it yesterday and I forget what it's like to have support. So many condolences, and weirdly compliments on my writing. It's truly bitter sweet.

“I haven't said much of anything publicly. Things still feel unreal.

As some may know, but most don't, last week, I lost my father. It was both expected and unexpected at the same time. I think that's how a lot of deaths are. You could know everything, right down to the second your soul left, and it would still come as a shocking surprise every single time. And of course, that's one phone call you never really want to hear.

Emotions fly high when something like this happens. It takes you on a roller-coaster. I'm sad and depressed. Of course, I am. I lost my dad. I'm no machine. But I'm also angry, so very angry. I'm angry because there's no justice in something like this. I'm angry because I feel ripped off. At other times, I'm numb. Sometimes even feeling guilty and not sure what it was that I had done wrong. The wonders of grief.

I'm going to miss him. A lot. I think that's pretty normal, isn't it? I've known him my entire life. Death, even when peaceful and easy to slip into, is always violent. It's not violent for the dying or deceased. It's violent for those of us who are left behind. It strangles us with choked words as we find comfort in our family and friends and selves. It rips your heart out from your chest with an unmatched force, leaving behind nothing but a black hole where your organ once was. It breaks your bones as you drop down to the floor. It blinds you with saltwater tears that start to roll down your cheeks. Death is violent. Silent violence.

Grief is weird. Grief is such a universal, yes completely personal experience. We all deal with grief, or if we haven't yet, we will. Everybody must face grief at some point in their life. And even with that fact, it's all down to who a person is on how they deal with it. Some dive headfirst into work for a distraction. Others drink until they pass out. A few go into isolation to face it alone. And then there's me. I write.

I wrote a letter or two to him. Things I wanted to talk to him about, or songs I had stashed away to show him. I wrote to him, and it actually helped me feel a little bit better. So that's what I have to face grief and death. I face it with a pen in one hand and a college-lined notebook in the other.

My dad and I's relationship was never perfect or all that conventional, but that's ok. It worked for us and who we were as people. I have plenty of absolutely wonderful memories with my dad, and it's in those memories how I'll remember him. Fishing in the lake by his apartment. Going to see Motley Crue in Milwaukee. The camping trips. The visits to his house. Playing guitar together. Listening to music at a much too high volume. Canoeing down the Kickapoo only to stop at every sand bar to look for rocks and arrowheads. The list really can go on and on. I choose to remember my dad this way, instead of that dying hospital costume.

My dad was intelligent and eccentric. He'd find new hobbies all the time, and dive headfirst into each one until he learned all he could. He liked what he liked and that's how it was going to be. And that's a trait worthy of looking up too. He never gave a damn what anybody thought of him and he was unapologetically himself. Once again, those are good traits to have, and one's I'm glad he was able to get instilled into me.

It's time's like now where I realize that living in the moment is so very important. All those moments I had with my dad seemed so mundane and whatever as they happened. And all it took was one day, one hour, one minute, one second really and those moments and memories are now sacred ground.

I am forever grateful that his and I's relationship was at a good place. Even that doesn't justify it. Our relationship at one point was strictly through text messages and rarely did we find the time to keep that father son thing going, usually seeing each other for the holidays but that was about it. But as we both grew older, wiser and maybe just a little bit more crazy, that father son bond did return. We were talking. And I visited for a few days this summer. A trip that is now so very important.

He died knowing he was loved, And when you think about it, that's all we really ask for. I think that's a pretty great way to go. Knowing that you were loved. That you were important in so many different lives, be it friends or family. We all said our words to him, hugged him and left the room. And less then a week later, he was gone. We all had our final words with him though. Mine were just "I love you, dad." And with how short that sentence is, I think it's pretty powerful. There was no message better than that.

Now comes the dawn of mourning. The real mourning. The crying at three in the morning kind of mourning. I'm sorry to anyone around me. I am trying to hold it together and most of the time, I'm doing a pretty good job doing just that. But if you see me wiping a tear from my eye. Or quickly changing a song while at work, it is because I'm mourning. I'm learning to live while grieving. I'm learning how to live without a father. And I was not prepared to learn this stuff. There is no textbook or instructions to come with it. You've got to figure that all out on your own. And I'm still figuring that out, but I think I'm getting close.

I'm going to miss him. I mean, I already do. I'm going to miss the talks about severe weather. Or getting a text randomly. I'm gonna miss him through every moment still coming in the life. I wish he would've gotten a chance to meet Milo, but we'll make sure that Milo knows him too.

Nothing feels the same right now. It's surreal. Everything looks the same and everything works as it should, but it feels unreal. Like I've been placed in an alternate world. One where my dad is no longer a constant figure in my life. That one changes, changes everything. And it does it so quickly there's now way to see it. Of course, there is no alternate world. That is my real world now. And for hone long, I really couldn't say.

I think I'll wrap this up. I thought I needed to finish this with a bang. Some last line that really drives home the point I'm making. But then I realized I don't have a point. I just wanted to let go a little bit, and I wanted to talk about my dad for a few minutes.

See you later, Pop. I love you.”

TWITL - week 40 - middle of fall break

It's day 5 of my long weekend aka the last day of my long weekend. I've been off since Thursday because I wanted to be home on Thursday to watch the New Zealand play Uruguay in their last match of group stage in the Rugby World Cup. The All Blacks won 73-0. SWEET! Now it's on to the quarter finals, where they will face Ireland. Yikes! I think I'm pretty much cheering for the southern hemisphere teams at this point but most especially for the All Blacks. Of course. https://flic.kr/p/2p7DaAg cheering on the All Blacks LUNCH WITH THE FESTIVAL CREW https://flic.kr/p/2p8cA9a Festival Crew - October 7th (photos by HP) Saturday afternoon, we headed out to Livermore so that I could meet up with some of my friends from my movie theatre working days. Decades ago, we all worked together at a place called Festival Cinemas in Hayward. The theatre is long gone but we're all still around and whenever we get the chance, we meet up for a meal and conversation together. (Thank you, Sam!) It's always so lovely to see old friends and catch up. Social media only tells a little of our stories, eh? I look at our faces in these pictures and I still see how we looked back in our uniforms, behind the concessions stand or sweeping up in the auditoriums. I'm thankful that we all see each other now and again. We met up at Sauced. The food was good but it was pretty loud there. We all sort of had to yell a bit to talk but it was still fun! My food was delicious and everyone seemed to enjoy their choices for the most part. Later on, I realized that I was the only one without kids. They're all parents. Hmm... https://flic.kr/p/2p7QoKT I'm pretty sure no one knew I was taking this shot... TV & MOVIES Ahsoka - I liked this show well enough but if I hadn't watched all those recap videos on YouTube, I would have been a little confused. I think the show suffers from drawing much too much from previous shows (Rebels and Clone Wars), which is great for those folks who watched those shows but not so great for casual viewers. I think a show or a movie, no matter how connected it might be to a larger story, should be a good story in of itself. For me, Ahsoka missed on that mark. And the way it ended made it seem as though the season was just an in between moment, part of a larger whole. Do I care what happens next? I don't know if there was enough in the show for me to answer yes... Loki - I am so glad this show is back. I hope this show sticks to the character moments and twisty plot points like the first season. The first episode of the second season was good! It was exciting and funny and had me on the edge of my seat. I cannot wait to see what happens next! Strays - This movie was silly but hilarious. It's fun watching dogs talk and go on crazy adventures... https://flic.kr/p/2p7goMP the work desk companions in vacation mode... SOCIAL MEDIA Honestly, I will only slightly mourn the final demise of Twitter (@walelia). I am staying there until the bitter end but most of my posts are Wordle or telling people where else you can find me. :P I don't post much else there and I don't spend a lot of time there either. I don't see a lot of the weird crap that is apparently there because I have fine tuned my feed and no one cares enough to try and antagonize me. I do, however, see things from a few people I follow that just make me sad. So how am I faring on the three new networks I'm using? Read on... Threads (@kiari) - I do like how this one is tied to my IG account. Of the three that I'm using (mostly) daily, this one is the one that has more people I care about following. A lot of the YouTube tech folks I follow seem to use Threads more than the other two I'm checking out and it's fun to get replies or likes when commenting on their posts. Threads is honestly pretty chill though there are those folks who think they need to tell their followers about what's going in the world as though they're not smart enough to look elsewhere for that stuff. I do want Threads to succeed and even if it doesn't, I think I will keep using it. Spoutible (@valerie) - Honestly, this one is the most stable of the three I'm using. The people there have started to chill out a little and there's more balance. I follow a good group of people of differing backgrounds but similar viewpoints. They are the most "real" and it honestly feels like the early days of social media networks-- people finding connection in their differences and exploring new perspectives. The folks behind the scenes are working constantly on new features and rolling them out when stable. I think Spoutible is a sleeper in the new social media realm. Also, how can I not love a place where I get to use my actual name as my handle? Bluesky (@kiari.com) - This one feels the most Twitter-cloney. I don't say that as a bad thing and it could even be a good thing except they are suffering from a super slow rollout to users. I try and look for users to follow but when I try the "discover" or "popular with friends" feeds, they end up being mostly posts of people I already follow! I was so excited to get my invite that I just started using it but it's a little boring. I put in the effort because that's what I like to do-- I like to try new things. Things that make my eyes roll when reading at different socials about other socials: - "Is anyone using this?" - This is a familiar refrain on Threads. Why are you posting on Threads yet asking if anyone is using it? YOU ARE USING IT by posting! Lord. - "The other platforms aren't as good as this one..." - Or something of the like. This one seems to happen regularly on Spoutible. I roll my eyes and refrain from saying, "Just focus on this social network and don't worry about the others. They can all exist together." - "The place formerly known as Twitter is a cesspool and using it means you're supporting EVIL." This one happens everywhere. People post thought essays with this thesis and I just shake my head. If you don't want to post on Twitter, then don't. But just because people still post there doesn't mean they're supporting evil, etc. STFU on that. - "All these social networks needs to support real time news." No they don't, people on Threads who keep belaboring this point. Social networks are supposed to be about people. If WE want to share news, then let's post a link to a legitimate news site. But I don't need my social media to be constant news. There are other networks for that AND legitimate news sites. If those news sites want to have profiles on the different social networks, that's on them but I should have a choice on whether or not to follow them. https://flic.kr/p/2p8bRmw As mentioned at the top, today is my last day of a long weekend. I got up early, got ready, and was on the road to Kaiser to get my COVID and flu shots of the season. I was at the right place before 8:45 AM and waited along with mostly older folks. It was funny listening to a couple of those older folks: Older man: Is this where I get my COVID and flu shot? Staff member: No, you'll line up over there. Older man: Over where? Staff member: Over there. OM: So I get my shots over there? SM: Yes. OM: So what is this place? SM: This is adult injection. OM: So I get my COVID and flu shot here? SM: No, you get in line over there. OM: So what what is this place? I thought I had to check in here. SM: No, you don't have to check in here. You wait in line over there. This is where you get other shots. OM: I want my COVID and flu shot. SM: You'll wait in line over there. OM: The sign says COVID and flu shots here. SM: Yes, over there. Or something like that. It was excruciating to hear and amusing too. The staff member was SUPER PATIENT and I thought, "Damn, I don't know that I would have that much patience!" I ended up sixth in line for my shots. They took three people in at a time and OMG, I had to listen to the nurse tell the patient in her chair that they only have Pfizer, they don't have Moderna yet. The patient had only ever gotten Moderna before and must have asked the nurse if she should take the Pzifer. The nurse told her that she couldn't make the decision for her, that she could only tell her that they had no Moderna. The patient ended up getting the Pfizer. When it was my turn, I had my card in hand, answered her questions, then had to wait for her to get the vials. It was over soon after and I walked out to a line longer than when I got there. I was so glad to get it done! https://flic.kr/p/2p87nwC I drove back to Brentwood and ended up at Mabuhay to order the longsilog and pork adobe plate. I had to wait for the longsilog! But I didn't care since I didn't have anything else to do. I went down a few shops and bought some Starbread as well. I actually had my longsilog for breakfast as opposed to dinner, like I usually do. Breakfast for breakfast, what a concept! ;) I only have to work three days this week so I'm not too sad about my long weekend ending. Hopefully the work days pass peacefully enough. Maybe I'll watch a movie on Friday... https://flic.kr/p/2p8b1fL I'll end this here. Get your shots when you can! Let yourself feel those little moments of joy. :) Read the full article

Me, in a nutshell.

I am no french but Bonjour. I am, of some sort, still bitter about the fact that my name is not something like Kalli or Cleo, but Kim. Not the Miss Saigon Kim but just me, Kim, a Hermione-wanna-be. I am living my mudblood life, sometimes dull and sometimes jolly, for 21 years now since the day God has allowed my then fragile little body be tangible in this world.

[magat dam]

I was not born in, but I was raised in a small town of Ramon in Isabela province, where there are bountiful produce and fresh tilapias from the river that run through the majestic Magat Dam. Growing up in that place was not so blissful but not so tragic. Why? From how I perceived it, it was a perfect balance of wounds and laughters, scolds and plays, enemies and friends, school and house and other places, among other yin-and-yang type of childhood living.

A vague memory of me playing with my all-male cousins, was the first memory I can still recall since my parents and I fled to Ramon. I was rowdy with my cousins, especially when a new female cousin was added to our pack, yeah I thought we were a pack of wolves, though we only play fight with each other. Yes, I did play wrestling with them. But regardless of how outgoing I was with my cousins, it was not similar to how I approached social circumstances outside the comfort zone I have built with my cousins. I was always, ALWAYS, the timid and sheepish girl around other people, even to my relatives whom I just seldom see. I would be bubbled in my own state of mind and observe people around me until my parents decide to leave the occassion I was trapped into.

And the rest of my childhood resides on the deepest memory storage of mine, which all memory from all the events I have acquainted and endure before were well orchestrated that led me to where I stand today. A not-so-matured but not-so-naive Kim in this present time of my life. I was introduced to people, philosophies, emotions, places, among other things that stretched me out from my bubble. Naming all of them that shapes my individuality would definitely take plenty of your time, but I would absolutely feel excited and euphoric when I share the top 3 things that are now part of who I am as an individual.

Firstly, I discovered my passion for writing. The seemingly simple yet has the power in immortalizing a moment or even a person. And despite the hazy journey ahead, the passion I have for scribbling words became my equity which propelled me in taking a leap of faith when I shifted my degree program from accountancy to communication. Numbers to words indeed. Although my first two desired programs were Creative Writing and Psychology, both of them are not available at the university I am currently enrolled.

But the communication program taught me, and still teaches me, how to set aside my desire to impress other people by how i knit words into paragraphs or stanzas, and rather have a core value of expressing a message relevant to prompt change in the lives of those people whom I will consider as my audience. Because words are not just a composition of letters nor used to build cathedral of paragraphs or cursive stanzas, but it is has the power to radiate influence and benevolence, depending on how it is presented.

Apart from the academic achievements I have garnered from the said program, I have also established good connections and relations with people that I now consider as part of my journey in discovering myself. Classmates and pubmates turned to friends and even spiritual siblings, adviser and instructors turned into parents, and a bestfriend turned into a potential lifetime bestfriend. It is that bestfriend I can be intimate with. It's ironic though, because all that was proppelling me during my first year as a communication student was to submit requirements with the best of my ability and on time, and that I ONLY WANT TO WRITE, not knowing that being a communication student would be an exciting ride. Pew!

And since I do write, it is a necessary for me to also dive into the wonderland of every written pages in every fiction books I read. I would immerse my attention on the characters and the stories. Hence, reading is obviously the second. At this point of time, I am juggling my time with my thesis and reading the Harry Potter Goblet of Fire because why not?

Thirdly, I am fascinated with romantic language with French being the top. Parce que pour moi, le français est une belle langue et ça me ressemble à une mélodie (because for me, french is beautiful language and it sounds like a melody to me), regardless of the difficulty in pronouncing and enunciating words with 'r'.

Basically, I am a woman who have not a single inch of desire to cage myself back to the cocoon I have built when I was a kid, afraid of sponteniety and challenges, because how can I learn if I don't try. How can I try if I don't have even a small drop of faith. I mean, God gave me, as well as you, the life so precious to not waste opportunity, but rather to exercise the beauty I could bring out through the talents and interests He gave me. Okay, trust me, once I started writing, ending it would be a challenge for me. But thanks for giving me your time, I hope that you will rock this world with kind words (hay only if all of us do). Peace out.

Girlie cannot catch a break, like at all

CW : Reference to possible institutionalization

She'd been avoiding him. 

He was sure of it.

Sure it'd only been like two weeks but she texted him daily and suddenly.

Nothing.

He'd had enough and found himself stomping up the stairs to her apartment.

It had been long enough, that surely it couldn't be because they-

She wouldn't let that change things.

Right?

He smothered his uncertainty and insecurity in anger and annoyance.

Pausing, he considered knocking, then indignantly dismissed the idea. He shoved his key into the lock, and found it did nothing.

Stupid girl had left the door unlocked again.

Something else to hold against her.

He wasn't exactly quiet, as he entered, and tossed his shoes aside.

He thought he could hear her puttering about in the bedroom.

A soft "babe?" 

The half ajar door opened fully and her sleepy form came into view, "that you?"

He huffed a sardonic laugh, "No, Kimi-san, not babe."

He grinned at her, sharp and cold.

"Oh," she seemed surprised.

She’d flinched a little at the honorific, but at least he hadn't reverted to her surname.

Or worse, her maiden name.

She shrunk in on herself. Watching him, weary and cautious and nervous.

"I'm sorry," barely more than a whisper.

"Why Kimi-san, whatever might you be sorry for?" his voice was bright and cheery and so terribly, obviously fake.

He watched her shudder, a great heaving, fortifying, breath, before she made her way into the sitting room.

"Come sit with me, please."

Snorting, something cruel flashed through his eyes, "Are you sure I'm welcome?"

She sucked in a sharp breath, "Oh, Kenshi, always. Always."

Her eyes began to overflow, "I'm so sorry."

He ignored the twinge in his chest and turned his nose up at her, moving to sit on one of the chairs, "I'm sure."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment, and he'd begun to twitch, foot bouncing and fingers tapping.

Just as he was about to snap at her again she spoke.

"I'm pregnant."

He blinked, a little startled by her seemingly out of nowhere statement.

There felt like there was more to it. There had to be more to it. This would be her third kid for fucks sake, this should be old hat.

What wasn't she saying?

His brow furrowed, "Alright," he drug the word out, "What does that have to do with me? Or why you couldn't answer me."

She sank in on herself, small and vulnerable.

"It. I." She sighed again, "I didn't handle the news very well."

Again, there was something missing. More to the story. There had to be.

Tilting his head he considered her, "Yes well, I didn't think you wanted any more. I'm sure you were annoyed." He paused a moment, mind running over facts and statistics he knew, "You are getting older, I suppose it isn't ideal. Still don't see what that has to do with anything. You know you’ll have nothing but the absolute best medical care.”

She huffed a soft, bitter laugh, "No, Kenshi, I- I 'was almost commited', didn't handle it well," she paused, seemed to be considering something, "I'm not entirely sure why, but I had a bit of a breakdown."

That was a little different. Not an exclusion, but an outright lie. Oh he was sure she had had a breakdown. But he was also sure she knew why.

Yet. He couldn't bring himself to poke at it. There was something under the surface, an instinct that told him. He didn't want to know.

For once, he listened, instead of forcing his way through anyway.

"I truly am, so fucking sorry. I'll find a way to make it up to you, I promise."

He swallowed, refused to acknowledge the way he was softening towards her.

She had always been such a fragile thing, but the thought that she had gotten that bad…

There were a great many things that could have caused it.

He didn't want to consider any of them.

"We're having my meds adjusted, and making a few changes. I won't let it happen again."

She gave him a soft, watery smile.

He huffed, "Yeah, whatever. Do you have anything in your kitchen, or am I going to have to go buy ingredients."

She took the mercy, however small, "We can pop down to the shops, if you want."

#2

I'm keeping this here. What for? I don't know... but I know that I want to look back into this on a happy note. One day.

I want to remember that most of the times, things in life won't work a certain way I expect it to be - and it's fine. It is. It completely is. Trust me.

I just let out a sigh as I'm writing this haha.

I mean, who am I kidding? Life has been... how do I put this into words, huh? Bitter... sweet? Mindboggling? It feels like I got punched multiple times in the most hurtful ways, but every. single. time. I kind of... managed to survive? I couldn't dodge though, so I'm left with some real ugly bruises. But they're fading, so it's fine, except for the new ones I just got HAHA.

Ok enough with the metaphor.

Now on to the real talk. This would be the first time I'm voicing out what I'm about to.

Yep, there goes another sigh.

Back on August last year, I broke up with my longtime boyfriend - 5 years and 8 months went down the drain. It was a mutual agreement, I initiated though. The guy was a coward, so I did what I had to do. I always knew it was coming, we were like spoiled milk, what do you expect? He made me wait, maybe too taken aback with my advance. I remember one time during my suffocating wait, I was praying and silently crying in the upstairs room, holding back a scream because everyone was asleep and I ended up with the most terrible stomach cramps I've had in my entire 27 years of living. That made me stop crying abruptly, and the next thing I knew I was clutching on to the nearest table tops because I thought I was gonna die from the pain. Very dramatic.

So then the breakup happened. It was sad, but I was mostly relieved that the spoiled milk had finally find a home - yes, the garbage dump, duh! We also had this stupid thing where we say "Let's be friends. I have a feeling we'd make the best of friends even we're no longer lovers" as a closing statement. Total cuckoo move. Can't believe Vicky was right.

To be honest it was hilarious watching myself going through my first breakup. Definitely a journey not to be missed out. I'm not gonna go into details but let me paint you a picture through the songs I associated during this 'self-discovery' phase.

Phase 1: Astrid S - It's Ok If You Forget Me

Phase 2: Taylor Swift - Tolerate It & Champange Problem

Phase 3: Billie Eilish - Happier Than Ever

Phase 4: Cokelat - Karma

Phase 5: Tulus - Hati Hati di Jalan

Yeah, I basically went through the infamous 5 stages of grief without me realizing it.

Fast forward to October. I am ashamed to admit this, but deep down I kind of expected him to wish me Happy Birthday. But of course, he didn't. Fucking asshole. Let's be friends, my ass.

Then, came December. If this was a movie, it must be the crazy sister of Denis Villeneuve's Enemy - for its next level of mindfuckery. It actually left me saying 'what the fuck?' even today, because what in the actual fuck is happening, really? I blinked and what... he got married now?

He fucking did.

Now, this was the moment where it finally came down to me that; this is it - The Grand Finale. I've had billions of scenarios I always play in my head; what's gonna happen that now we're on our own. It did occurred to me that cases like this would happen but I calculated and the chances are slim, because I was confident that I'll have it first. I'll be happy first. I'll meet someone first. And he'll live a miserable life knowing I am the best he's had. Oh, I know I am. Still, what a dick. Good luck, though.

Lesson learned: please improve on your calculation skill. It is highly unreliable. /look self in disgust/

Just around the same time when the breakup was about to happen, I was offered an opportunity in my current job for an overseas relocation. The timing was just too perfect. I couldn't say no. No, why would I say no?! This has been a lifetime dream of mine. You see, the whole year I was struggling to find the time to prep for my scholarship permits and docs with Schoters which I subscribed to but never had the time for - now I didn't have to reach so high, because it's handed to me on a silver platter.

So, I agreed instantly. I didn't even have to think.

Two weeks ago, I was informed that my IPA has been issued and I should be able to fly there by early Feb. What an opener for a new year, right?! Until today happened... they told me that overseas assignment will be hold until further notice. Apparently, the project I'm handling is causing quite a loss to the Company so they want to cut costs and might opt for offshore assignment instead.

I am at loss of words.

Lesson learned: i've spent 5 minutes just thinking about this, and i still can't come up with anything good. I'll see and come back to this on end Feb.

Yep, that's all I want to say.

Before I end this, I want to put here these very cute pictures of me and my 10+ years girl friends, as reminder that nothing is or will be too bleak with them around.

Can you please do a yandere hyung line reaction to MC being jealous and tries to hide it ( For jin could you please make it as his wife has come back for a short holiday or something)

A/N: My brain did not want to do the writing thing the last couple of days, but I got there. I think these stories are good? but somehow they all ended up a bit soft. I hope you like them though 🤞 because it was a great request! Thank you 💜💜💜

@blacksnow160

Summary: Hyung line reaction when you get jealous.

Trigger warning: Smut, violence, blood-drinking, murder, abuse, yandere themes.

Alpha! Namjoon

Normally you didn't consider yourself clingy. You enjoyed your personal space and your time alone. But at the same time, you've also become accustomed to Namjoon dropping everything to take care of you. This entire week though, he's been preoccupied with a territorial issue, and the last 3 nights he hasn't even come to bed.

Leaving you feeling a little discarded, to say the least.

Nevertheless, you're a mature adult, and you were able to let it go with the knowledge that Namjoon is an Alpha who has responsibilities and knowing that he would still rather be with you.

It is, however, a comfort that you have trouble holding on to whenever you see the new girl around him. It's not like you're jealous. It's just that she doesn't seem to know how to behave respectfully or appropriately around Namjoon. She always stands too close or looks at him a bit too much, and she's way too touchy. Only his elbow, arm, or shoulder. But it's like, get your fucking hands off him.

Rationally, you know Joon is your mate and you own his heart, mind, and body. Still, it doesn't stop you from tossing restlessly, laying in bed at 2 am, once again alone. The two things added together making you feeling sour. Feeling sick of being sent away while this other girl gets to stick around being way too familiar with your Boyfriend.

Coming downstairs in your pyjamas, you weave in among the wolves working your way to Namjoon. Standing at the dining table, looking over a mess of paper, he notices you right away a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Y/n, what are you doing up?"He asks, checking his watch.

There she is again, right next to him. Her hand casually coming off his shoulder when she sees you.

"It's late. Go back to bed, Beautiful." he coos.

You ignore his instruction. Wrapping to his side by pushing yourself between him and this girl, creating space for yourself with a not-so-subtle shoving of your elbow into her arm. Smiling up at him sweetly as he accepts your presence, hugging you tightly.

"We're going to be busy most of the night. You should go to bed." he leans down to whisper, his breath tickling your ear. He's trying not to draw the focus from the rest of the table into your personal discussion.

"I'll go up when you come with me." You whisper back.

"It's going to be a few more hours still baby." He sighs, seeming frustrated with the circumstances.

"Then I'm staying here."

"You shouldn't-"

"Don't argue with me Kim Namjoon. You're not going to win this one." While it's said in jest, you also mean it. He'll have to drag you upstairs to make you go. And if he steps foot in that bedroom, you both know you'll be able to make him stay.

"Oh really?" He challenges, fighting the smile growing on his face, not wanting to encourage your mischievous behaviour.

Grabbing the collar of his black tee, you pull him down to your height, smacking your lips against his. Kissing him passionately and longingly. Something you haven't been able to do for nearly a full week.

Letting his shirt go, his smile is fully grown. His dimples on display.

"Really." You finalize, looking up at him coquettishly.

You can see the struggle playing in his mind. He's extremely tempted to throw you over his shoulder and take you upstairs right now, his wolf fighting to shirk his responsibilities and give in to desire. His chest rumbling lowly as he winks down at you.

"Okay baby." his fingers dig into your hips, "If you're gonna play dirty, you can stay." He teases with a chuckle. Resisting the bait.

Feeling calmed and relaxed on the warmth of his hold again, a smug sense of pride fills your chest. From the corner of your eye, you can see her attention on the two of you. Your ego is not able to resist, and you shoot a cold pointed glare at her. A smirk creeping onto your face as she looks down, avoiding your eye line.

"Seeing as it's late, do you wanna make coffee for everyone?" You order her in the form of a question, speaking loudly enough for both her and Namjoon to hear your sassy, obvious tone.

She looks a little stunned. She'd just been promoted to the inner circle for this problem-solving session, and she doesn't seem pleased at being asked to perform menial tasks. Trying to go over your head, she looks at the Alpha for confirmation. But he doesn't give it to her. Instead, you can feel him nod, supporting your order. A full smile filling your face as you get his backing.

"Of course, Luna." she obeys, looking a little dejected.

"Thank you." you shoo her to action with a sing-song voice. Curling into Namjoons side, you can't help but feel authoritative. And a little bit victorious.

King! Seokjin

It had been nearly two weeks since you had seen Jin last. As frustrating as it was, you were genuinely missing him. There was a kind of energy he had when it was just the two of you. Something that filled you, and without him you were feeling like your own spirit was draining away.

It would be okay though, today Jin was coming back from visiting his wife and children. You're sure he missed you just as much as you missed him. That he was as excited to see you, as you were to see him. You were a little worried knowing that you would have to satisfy his sadism first, but you can tolerate it, thinking that at least you'll get to see his smile.

As the day is drawing to an end, you've finished all your tasks but you refuse to retire for the night, certain the King is going to call for you at any minute. Feeling a mix of excitement and relief when the staff manager comes to collect you.

Nearly skipping you rush to the dining hall, having been instructed to serve dinner to the King and his guest. Working with another maid to bring the meals from the kitchen.

Walking in, the smile you were trying to conceal disappears completely. Your stomach dropping. Jin's guest is the Princess. His wife.

You have to control your expression to hide your distress, feeling sick while serving him. His wife never comes down. She hasn't in a year and a half. Jin doesn't even really like her. It doesn't make sense why she's here.

With a curt bow, you remove the closh and place the plate down. Meeting the King's eye for a moment, you do your best to placify your appearance. Your efforts cracking when you see his lips pulling ever so slightly into a knowing smile.

He dismisses the other maid, but not you. Sending you to the waiting station by the wall. You're stuck watching over their conversation. Feeling more and more insecure as you look at the Princess's regality and beauty. Getting more frustrated as your mind runs rampant.

How long is she going to stay? It doesn't seem like they brought the Princes, so she has to go back soon. And what kind of mother leaves her children alone? It doesn't even matter that she's here, you know Jin likes you more. So what if she is really pretty, he can't hurt her like he can you. You make him happy. She's just a prop he was given to secure a treaty. He actually chose you.

Slowly, you're building yourself into a craze. Making yourself feel sad until the very end of the meal. Finally, their dinner date ends and he stands, kindly bowing to see her off. Leaving only you and him in the hall.

Relaxing back in his seat, he finishes the remainder of his drink.

"Y/n." Holding his empty glass to the side, he calls you over. You follow his gesture and top up his cup. Avoiding looking directly at him again. Pacing back to your place when he stops you.

"Come here." He grins, enjoying how uncomfortable you are. "You met my wife today." He pushes the difficult topic, again probing for your reaction.

Nodding softly, you're trying to not let your bitterness out. You know Jin doesn't like it when you pout.

"Are you jealous Princess?" He holds his hand out for you to take, leading you closer to him. Leaning back to create a space for you on his lap. Guiding you over him with your legs spread.

"No, your Majesty." You shake your head, your pause and hesitation giving away the truth.

Jin's gentle touch comes off your hand, his grip instead ripping back your hair, arching your back and nearly yanking you off of his lap. Biting back a shriek, you can't keep entirely quiet, whimpering as his fist curls tighter and closer to your scalp.

"Are you lying to me?" His mouth latches onto your shoulder, biting into your muscle vindictively. Unbridling that scream you had tried to smother.

"Yes. I'm sorry your Majesty!" you cry out, tears building in your eyes. "I'm jealous. I missed you. I want you-" all the truth is pouring out, but you hesitate worried you're being too bold, "all to myself."

His grip comes out of your hair. His hand instead raking down your chest, leaving painful red marks as each nail digs along the skin. Continuing lower, tearing the buttons on your dress. Yanking down your bra also, exposing your breasts. His other hand hikes the fabric up around your thighs, stopping on your waist, lowering your hips into him.

Pinching your nipple, he draws you closer until his lips are just off yours. Gasping through the initial pain, you can only whine and bite your lip to further keep quiet.

"Go on Princess. Prove to me why I should have missed you."

Assassin! Yoongi

Over the past couple of weeks, Yoongi would be gone for days at a time. Coming back in a strangely talkative and happy mood. You were as miserable and depressed as always, but his vigour was somehow revitalizing and comforting. It made him easier to deal with. It made him less moody. And it made your life easier. So to begin with you were very happy that he was happy.

That was until he mentioned a name in passing. A woman's name. Someone he was working with on a project.

As soon as you heard him talking positively about her, a pang of anxiety spiked through your stomach. From then on it rested in your gut, making you irritated, uncomfortable, and flustered every time you heard about or thought about her.

It was the strangest thing. You hated Yoongi, you're sure of it. But he was all you had. And hearing him talk about another woman, even though it sounded platonic, the adoration in his voice was hurting you in a way you never expected.

Slowly you had to work through this feeling on your own. You couldn't bear to let Yoongi know, not certain what he would do with the information that you were, in lack of a better word, jealous.

The more you heard about this woman, you knew you could never be as impressive as her. Every detail sounding equally terrifying and awe-inspiring. To be honest the specifics slipped your mind, as you were mostly wrapped up in self-pity when Yoongi spoke about her.

All you know is that you felt inferior, and you were craving, longing to feel that kind of importance to Yoongi, also. Resenting the fact that this other person was so easily able to bring joy and energy out of him.

Over the next couple of weeks, you spent every waking moment thinking about how to make Yoongi happy. Not just avoiding annoying him, like you usually did, but instead thinking about how to bring him genuine enjoyment.

One time you spent hours making him a meal. Making something you knew he would love. But, unfortunately, he only complained about the mess. He said he wasn't hungry and left you to throw the food away and clean up.

Another time, you had planned a full evening of activities. Movies, snacks, games that would help you get to know each other better, anything fun you could organize with your limited resources. Only, he wasn't in the mood to play, or talk. He only wanted one thing, and when he was done, he left you alone in your room, feeling used and a bit sore.

However, that gave you an idea. Maybe you could connect with him physically first. Then that might give you a way for something, anything more to develop.

This time, you set the house up with candles, music, wine, chocolate strawberries, everything you'd seen in movies. Waiting for him on the couch in something a little provocative. But, as soon as he comes in from the garage he looks more annoyed than impressed. Rolling his eyes, ordering you to your room.

By this stage it's late, you're tired, and you're losing your mind trying to make him happy. You were fighting so hard for his attention, and he was barely tolerating you. You aren't thinking clearly as you snap at him.

"Why?!" You yell, stomping your foot down. "I'm working so hard and you're just being an asshole!"

The words come out and you instantly regret them. His straight expression hardening.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You rush to him, wrapping your arms around his chest trying to soothe any reaction. "Just tell me what I can do." You plead. Exasperated by so many failed attempts.

"That depends. What do you want?" He honestly questions, looking down at you.

You weren't exactly prepared to answer this question. You're not sure you really know.

"I'm your's right?" you say with big eyes, your voice coming out so softly, feeling embarrassed even though you're mimicking his words. "I get that I have to be yours. But then you have to be mine too." Your voice trembles.

Finally, it makes sense to Yoongi. Your change in demeanour, and in behaviour. Why you've been so needy. Why you've been trying to get his attention. He understands now. And that was most of what was annoying him. Not knowing why you were acting differently.

He steps out of your grasp, calling for you to follow him upstairs. You're not so nervous as you do. Surprisingly, the revelation has given Yoongi has a warm smile.

Falling back onto his bed, he taps the space beside him, inviting you to join him. You climb into the middle of the bed, resting in the place he set for you, his arm laid out under your head. He curls into you, gently wrapping his arm over your waist. Hugging you.

For the first time ever, he is showing you some kind of affection. For the first time, he's actually making a gesture of warmth and comfort. You couldn't even let yourself think that Yoongi could be capable of this. Having spent so many months isolated and alone. Even when you weren't locked up.

Hating yourself for not being stronger, you break into silent tears. Biting your thumb to stifle any sobs.

While reason is battling in your head, telling you that it's a bad idea to form any kind of emotional attachment to him, you don't want to listen to logic right now. Letting yourself cling to Yoongi and the desperately needed human connection.

Vampire! Hoseok

There was a delicate balance to your relationship with Hoseok. You couldn't exactly rely on his moods to be stable, but you could rely on his obsession with you. It was the only thing that kept you feeling secure. Feeling certain that when he bit you next he wouldn't let you bleed out. Or that when he hit you or cut you or hurt you, that he wasn't going to leave you to suffer in agony but would heal you. Because he wanted to keep you. You were his.

It was a twisted kind of reassurance. But it's what you had, so it's what you worked with.

You knew the source of his obsession. It was you as a person, sure. But you weren't kidding yourself. Mostly, his infatuation was with your blood. Hoseok wasn't specific about it, but you had overheard some of the other Vampires discussing you. Apparently, you smell delicious, and that's why he never lets you wander the house with any cuts. That's why you were locked away every 28 days. And that's why you were his only.

It didn't make sense to you, there was nothing different about you.

But somehow you'd fallen in and become the star of your very own YA horror story.

Whatever the cause though, you were aware that Hoseok's addiction to your blood was the reason that he kept you. Without that, he might simply kill you, or worse, he might throw you to one of the other bloodsuckers who look at you like a happy meal they want to fuck.

Which is probably why you were so defensive when you saw him biting another girl.

Sitting on the back terrace looking over the gated property, Hoseok and a few of his creations were sitting in the moonlight enjoying a drink. You'd come downstairs expecting to be his refill when you see him sinking his fangs into the arm of one of the human pets.

Frustration floods through your body, a new kind of anger making your hands shake. A malicious and honestly, not-all-together thought out idea springs into your head. You've never seen him drink from anyone else before, and you need to remind him that he should only want you.

Taking a serrated peeler from the bar at the side of the terrace, you hold it concealed in your palm, going up to the first Vampire leaning there.

"Are you thirsty?" you ask, speaking lowly. He, like all the others, know you're Hoseok's, and so he rightfully looks uncomfortable being near you. Stepping into his personal space, you raise your arm under his chin and run the sharp blade across the top of your forearm. His eyes immediately going black, his fangs bared. Unable to resist what you're offering.

Behind you, every single one of them turns their heads, smelling you the second blood gathers on your skin.

In a flash, Hoseok is between the two of you. Ripping his teeth into the guy's neck, tearing his throat out. Killing him in an instant.

Breathing heavily, he turns to you with blood washed down his front. His eyes murderous and cold.

Retaliating, you storm towards the human-pet and shove her with all of your might, pushing her down the stone tile steps onto the grass. Watching her tumble into a heap.

Those around you have gone dead quiet, none of them even daring to look directly at either of you.

"How dare you?" He seethes, stalking towards you. But you're not backing down. You know better than to retreat from him when he charges.

"How dare I?" you scream. "How dare you drink from that skank!" An enraged Hoseok is something all of his offspring know to fear. Steadily you can see them clearing the space around the two of you. Withdrawing from whatever this is leading to.

"You want to tell me who I can eat?!" He growls, his hand shooting around your neck, holding you but not choking you. "You're a blood bag that I keep as a toy!"

"If that's all, then I'll let all of them feed on me too."

His hand constricts, restricting your air. "I'll kill anyone that tries."

"Then," you gasp, your words coming out short. "only me." you pull your hair off your shoulder, turning your neck as far to the side as you can. Throwing his head back, he takes the invitation, sinking his fangs into your jugular, swallowing down mouthfuls of your blood.

Holding onto his shoulders, you jump up wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing yourself closer to his mouth. Hoseok's arms wrapping around your ass, keeping you up.

Pushed back by your momentum, he stumbles a few steps, dropping down onto the open sofa chair. You landing on his lap, straddling his thighs.

As more of your blood is drained, and you get lightheaded, the pain starts to slip and your body starts to float. A euphoric sensation, akin to being high consuming you.

You tangle your hands up into his hair tugging it, massaging his scalp. You've become so accustomed to him fucking you when he feeds from you, that whenever he bites you, you get turned on. Your body reacting out of instinct. Slowly grinding down, rocking your hips into him as you start to get him hard. The friction feeling good making you moan. Making you move faster with pleasure tingling through your core also.

"Hobi," you moan. Shivering, as his tongue runs up your wounds.

Your gentle whine catches his attention. A surprised expression on his face that shifts into a smile as he leans back to watch you. His focus on you making you feel slightly embarrassed, slowing your motions until they stop altogether.

Biting his tongue, your eyes meet for a moment before he kisses his blood into your mouth, the copper taste feeling soothing and familiar. Your body relaxing completely knowing you'll wake up healed.

"Mine." He whispers into your lips.

The blood loss pulls you into unconsciousness, your head dropping onto his shoulder. The euphoric feeling swallowing you up as you purr back. "Mine."

I don't know if you've done this before :( but could you maybe write about the Obey me brothers after an argument with MC?? Like a fight make up kind of situation??

400 years later.....

Well, maybe not that long, but certainly long enough. I'm sorry >.<. Hope this doesn't put you off on sending other things because I did like doing this one!

Obey me Brothers + MC After a Fight

Lucifer

It was late into the evening when you heard the knock at your door. Before you could ask who it was, you heard the even timber of Lucifer’s voice behind the door. “[Y/N], it’s me. May I come in?” There was a long pause than usual between his introduction and question, seeming to debate asking, or your response, before he asked it.

To be honest, he had a right to be cautious because you weren’t sure what your answer would be before you opened your mouth. “Yes. Come in.”

The heavy door opened and Lucifer stepped in. Prim and as well stationed as ever, but the confidence normally in his face diminished just the slightest. “I…came to apologize.” The words seem to want to drag out of his throat. Like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to say. Not the best start for an apology.

“You didn’t have to treat me that way.” You tell him. Telling you like a child in front of everyone. Getting your hand smacked for something you didn’t even do. No coming to give some lack luster, dutiful apology he doesn’t mean. “And don’t say your sorry if you’re not.”

“I am sorry.” Lucifer insisted, before he took a deep breath and tried to relax. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that in front of everyone. I was upset, and took it out on you. Sometimes you’re an easy target because I know you’ll care for me no matter what I do. We always hurt most the ones we love.” Your cheeks tint at the comment. Damn him and his suave words.

The demon makes the effort to cross the threshold and take your hands. “Please know that I am truly sorry for my behavior. I will strive to never make you feel foolish, or less than, again. My mission in life now is to show you how much more than I find you over everyone else.”

You roll your eyes a little at the comment. “Let’s not get carried away. You’re starting to sound like Asmo.”

You giggle when Lucifer gave a forced, disgusted shutter. He then lifted your hands to his lips and gave them a kiss. “Am I forgiven?” He asked.

“I suppose.” Annoyingly, he was right. You would always care for, and love him, so it was hard to stay mad at him for long.

“Good,” he said, with his usual prideful smile, “I’m glad. I do plan to still make it up to you though. So make no plans for Saturday.”

“Will do.” You agreed. Giving him a tiny salute. He then left to let you finish getting ready for bed. Ideas of how he’d ‘make it up to you’ swirling in your head.

Mammon

There was a sharp rap at your door that rung out clear in your room over your headphones. You were curious who was here at this hour, but got up to go answer the door before the tried again.

You open the door and are immediately confronted with a bundle of flowers being shoved in your face. Almost to the point of the blooms bursting against your cheeks. You stagger, at the afront of color, and the bouquet is pulled back slightly to reveal Mammon behind them. “I…bought you these flowers. To say I’m sorry.” The more he talked the more his voice trailed off. His normally confidence draining like the color from his face.

“Isn’t it rather cliché to buy someone flowers to apologize?”

Mammon flinched at your criticism. “I didn’t know what else to do. If you don’t like them I’ll buy you something else. Anything you want! Just please…talk to me.” Please forgive me, was what he was really saying.

You look at the demon for a moment. His defeated stance not fitting into his character at all. Ironic, since the fight was about Mammon being too full of himself. Confidence was one thing, but ever now and then it was too much, and when you tried to talk to him about it he turned on you. He had immediately regretted it, but you refused to talk to him for several days after to cool off.

Apparently, that was the worse punishment he could think of.

“You don’t need to buy me anything Mammon. I’ve already forgiven you.”

“Really??” He asked. Seeming unsure of what he’d heard or that he could trust you.

“Really.” You repeat, and immediate find yourself in his arms. Your flowers falling to the floor as he hugged you.

“Thank you [Y/N]! I’ll never do anything stupid like that again! I promise!”

“Well now, let’s not make promises we can’t keep.” You tease. Patting his back. “We all make mistakes Mammon. I’ll be angry with you sometimes, but I generally forgive you. How can I stay mad at my ‘First Man’ for long?” His hold on you tightened a little. It lingered for a moment longer before he let you go.

“Yeah. Right. Don’t you forget it.”

Levi

You were getting ready to head downstairs when there was a knock at your door. It was a surprise, since you were going down to meet everyone. So who was up here now? You open the door and find everyone’s favorite otaku, out of his hole and in front of your door, staring at you.

“Y-Y-You…You weren’t answering my texts.” Levi finally got out.

“That should have been a hint.” You tell him. Perhaps a bit more curt than need be.

The bluenette straightened in alarm before his shoulder slumped again. “I know. I’m sorry! But I couldn’t stand the thought of you being mad at me! I know I can get a little…-“crazy?” You interjected –“excited about my games and stuff, but I really didn’t mean to snap at you!”

The two of you had been playing some new quest game that was all the rage apparently on the deep otaku net. Supposedly it was unbeatable. No one had actually ever seen the final boss ending yet. Which of course meant Levi was determined to be the first. Confident that his eons of experience wouldn’t lead him astray.

Sadly, the legends of the unbeatable game were true. And after hour after hour of crushing defeat Levi snapped and took it out on you. He’s locked himself in his room after. Ashamed, and upset that he hurt you; if his texts were anything to go off of.

“I threw the game away and I’ll never play it again. I promise! I’ll never go all rage beast mode on you again as long as I live! Just please forgive me and talk to me again!”

“Oh Levi, it’s not that serious.” You insist as you reach out your hand to his clasped ones in front of you. Reassuring him. “We all get a little crazy when things don’t go our way. I forgive you. In the future lets try to play games that are a little less….taxing on our relationship, if we can manage.”

“R-R-R! Relationship!” Levi stammered. Turning bright red in front of you, which made you giggle. You lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Really frying his circuits. Maybe it was a little bit out of you missing Levi when you were fighting. And maybe it was also his ‘punishment’ for the fight as well.

Satan

Tucking into your homework for the evening, you look up from your desk when there was a knock at the door. It was sharp, to the point. You immediately knew who it was, and debated not answering. However, that would be rude and a level of pettiness not even you could manage.

“Hello Satan,” you greet when you open the door. Correct in guessing who was there. “How can I help you?”

The blonde seemed wounded by your formality, usually such a champion of manners. But he was a clever man and knew you were doing it to put some distance between you. “I came to apologize.”

“As you should.” Ok. Maybe you were a little pettier than you like to admit.

“You’re right, and I should have been here sooner. I was just….embarrassed.” Satan ran his fingers through his hair. “He just makes me so angry sometimes! Being so high and mighty. Bossing us around. I try to keep it under control but….I can’t.” Given he is the Avatar of Wrath, it’s a wonder he made any effort to keep his rage in check. Everyone says he was getting better though. Even his relationship with Lucifer was getting better; even with this spat. “It pains me more than I can tell you to know that I upset you in the process. Turning on you like that like an idiot when you were only trying to help. It was so stupid.”

“It wasn’t very like you.” You admit, and Satan gave a single, bitter scoff.

“Maybe not now. Maybe with you.” Cautiously he reached out his hand to take yours in a gentle hold. “But I am sorry. Please know that I’ll strive to not let my anger get the better of me again.”

“I’m sure you will.” You said. Squeezing his hand back. “And, I forgive you. I should know by now not to get involved with any of your fights. But I care about you all so much.”

“But you care about me most, yes?” He asked with a soft smile. To which you giggle and kiss his cheek.

“Yes. I care for you most.”

Asmo

It was late afternoon when you heard the knock at your door. Typically, everyone was off doing their own activities at this hour, so it was a surprise to have someone looking for you. You open the door cheerfully at first, but then frowned. “Oh. Hello Asmo.”

“Hello [Y/N]-kun.” Asmo greeted brightly, but you could tell it was forced. “I…wanted to come see you. To apologize. For acting so ugly earlier.”

It’s not often that Asmo lost his temper. He usually left that to his silly, older brothers. Rising above in dignified beauty, as he liked to put it. But every now and then it got the best of him, and his tongue was sharper than any knife in the draw when he got that way.

“What you said really hurt Asmo.”

“I know,” he admitted frowning. “I haven’t been able to sleep all night thinking about it. Look at these bags!” You frown as he pointed to his under eyes, and he realized he was being selfish again. “I’m sorry I said such awful things the other day. I don’t have an excuse or fix for it. Except to say that I’m sorry, and I hope you forgive me.”

You let out a soft sigh at his words. He did seem sincere. It was a little odd to see Asmo so down. “Alright, I forgive you.” The demon immediately perked up with his usual smile and took your hands in his.

“Thank you [Y/N]! Let me take you out shopping, as a further apology. I’ll buy you anything you like!”

“So we’ve resorted to bribery now?” Asmo giggled at your joke and you nod. “I’ll right. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get out. Anything I want?” Asmo nodded and made some suggestions on what you could spend his money on as you walked. Inevitably ending up on lingerie, which earned him a smack.

Beel

You had just gotten back from class when you heard the knock at the door. It startled you. You had only just gotten back a moment ago, so what remarkably good timing.

You finish taking off your uniform jacket before you open the door. Startled, yet again, to find Beel behind it. “Beel?”

“Hi [Y/N].”

An awkward silence filled the space, one that hadn’t been there since you first arrived in the Devildom, before you spoke. “I uh…was going to change. I just got back from class.”

“I know. I waited for you to come back.” The red head confessed. Nervously scratching the back of his head. “I wanted…to talk. I wanted to apologize.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” You reply. Now nervously scratching the back of your head as well. “If anything I should apologize.”

Beel was so sweet and kind. But sometimes, his ‘space cadet ways’ over anything that didn’t involve food or fitness was very hard to deal with. He’d forgotten you were supposed to meet, yet again, so when he showed up an hour late for your date yesterday you had given him an ear full. He’d been hurt, but took it. Now you just felt bad, like you had kicked a puppy, with it over.

“But I should have remembered. It’s not fair that I forgot when we were supposed to meet. Again.” He looked upset with himself and fidgeted with his hands. “I really am sorry I forgot. I don’t want you to think you’re not important or anything. I’m just dumb.”

“You’re not dumb!” You scold Beel. Not accepting him putting himself down like that. “Can’t we just agree that we’re both at fault. You should have remembered, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you either. Can’t we just….make up? I hate fighting with you.”

Beel smiled softly and leaned forward to give you a hug. “I hate fighting too. I think I’ll be ok if we both take blame. That seems fair.” He let you go and stepped back. Seeming back to his usual, easy going self already. “Do you want to do a make up date? If you’re free. I can take you to Madam Scream’s or we can go get Fire Iceies.”

You giggle and nod. “Sure. That would be wonderful.”

Belphie

It was so late at night when you heard the knock at your door that, initially, you thought you dreamt it.

Hearing it again, you woke up and threw on your robe over your pjs to go answer the door. Groggy, and a little concerned as to who could be here at this hour. Something must be wrong.

“Belphie?” You question in a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” He said. Remarkably less groggy than you were for a change. “I had to see you.”

“In the middle of the night?” You question. Getting more alert and annoyed at being woken up by him.

“Yes. I couldn’t sleep. Imagine that.” His fingers twirl at his long bangs while he looked down at the floor. “I came to apologize.”

“Apologize?” You repeat. Shocked, more than anything, that he was here to apologize. Not that he did deserve an apology to you, you just didn’t think he’d do it.

“Yes. To apologize. Can we make up now?”

“That’s it??” You remark after his ‘apology’. “You say you’re sorry like that and I’m just supposed to forgive you?”

“Yes. That’s how apologies work.”

“No it isn’t!” You snap. Louder than you wanted to with the late hour. You set your teeth and wheeze through them. You don’t want to start another fight. “You apologize because you feel bad about something and want to make it up to the person. It has to be sincere.”

“I am being sincere.” Belphie insisted. “This is sincere as I get.”

“Well it certainly doesn’t feel like it.” You reply. Crossing your arms.

It was Belphie’s turn to sigh at you. “Look. I’m not like Asmo or the others who are great with words. I came to apologize, and that’s it. I was wrong and I wanted to say I’m sorry. That’s the best I can do.”

“Why do you even want to say your sorry? If you don’t sound like you mean it.”

“Because I hate you being angry with me.” You blink in surprise at Belphie’s confession, and he sighed again. “I hate it. I hate not talking to you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me, but if you hate me, I can’t stand it. So, I came to apologize. To do anything so you wouldn’t hate me anymore.”

You uncross your arms and scrunch your lips a little bit. “That’s a better apology.” He looked back up at you with a questioning look. Seeming surprised that he had ‘done good’. “And, I don’t hate you. Just because I’m angry with you, for good reason, doesn’t mean I hate you. I could never hate you.”

The demon smiled softly. His expression tired, but hopeful. “Thanks [Y/N].”

“Now, we need to get back to bed. It is the middle of the night after all. And we have school.”

“Ok.” Belphie agreed. Then stepped into your room and made way to your bed.

“In your own room mister!”