#okaaay idk what this is either

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader Instagram AU

*Read this fic first and this Instagram AU* & Part 2 of the fic here

Featuring @hoodharlow 🤭💞

Liked by jackharlow, blancahood, yourbestiename, urbanwyatt, badbunnypr, and 7,688,467 others

yourusername Te deseó lo mejor porque gracias a ti soy la mejor versión de mi 💘

View all 1,900 comments

blancahood 🔥 Nos vemos next month 😉

yourusername Tengo miedo alv

yourbestiename Omgg are you finally reuniting with he who should not be mentioned?

blancahood pendeja 🤦🏻‍♀️ way to make it obvious.

yourusername 😭😭😭😭

yourbestiename I didn’t know it was still a secret 🙄

jackharlow There she go 🌟 🫶🏻🥺

urbanwyatt ❤️‍🔥 🔥

• jackharlow added to their story

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, cozane, nemoachida, 2forwoyne, and 8,578,524 others

jackharlow I know you hate the way we drifted

View all 1,900 comments

user how do you know y/n?

user are we going to ignore the fact that he’s been under her recent posts and then the story he just posted?

urbanwyatt 🤭👀

claybornharlow please tell me this is about the one that got away!?

urbanwyatt 🤫

yourusername Who you talkin' to now? Are y'all 'bout to tie a knot? Hope not 😝😌

jackharlow 👁️👄👁️

yourusername Also, you’re fake because you can’t answer my dms but you’re under my post and posting me on your stories 🤨

jackharlow idk what to say

yourusername ????

yourusername Okaaay, I’ll leave you to it then, sorry I wasted your time.

urbanwyatt JACKMAN WTF

claybornharlow You know for being the older brother and being wiser, you’re really dumb right now.

jackharlow I’m not the one that left.

blancahood Y/N he’s a little slow but he’ll catch up eventually.

yourusername Está bien, I just wanted a fresh start and just to catch up.

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, yourbestiename, blancahood, and 5,678,356 others

yourusername Out here growing, learning and vibing. New music video next Friday 💚 📸 My wingman urbanwyatt

View all 1,700 comments

urbanwyatt Aye ☝🏼 thanks for having us

claybornharlow I had fun 🤭

cozane 💚

blancahood Thank me for letting you losers join last minute

yourusername LMAAAO netaa, eres la mejor. Gracias por reunirme con ellos, aunque haiga faltado ya sabes quien.

blancahood Like I said, he’s doing broken boy bullshit right now. But he’ll get his shit together, hopefully it’s not too late.

yourbestiename Na if he wants to continue ignoring y/n, he can go fuck himself. Everything she did has an explanation, he would understand if he gave her the time of day.

yourusername Relax 🤐

jackharlow Wtf

jackharlow Since when do you hangout with my best friends and little brother

yourusername Since they actually replied to me and let me explain why I cut them off.

jackharlow Why are you acting hurt or catching an attitude? You left me remember.

yourusername I’m not doing this here, you either reply to my dm and we talk privately, or we don’t do anything.

jackharlow 🙄 You always have to make the decisions huh

blancahood TAKE IT PRIVATELY PLEASE. As your manager, do as I say.

jackharlow It is what it is. See you in Miami for the festival.

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, nemoachida, 2forwoyne, champagnepapi, and 7,446,977 others

jackharlow Recent mood. It’s fuck everybody.

View all 1,900 comments

urbanwyatt Ohhhh 🧐

blancahood Eres un tonto

jackharlow you just called me dumb. I know what that means, your girl would call me that sometimes

yourbestiename That’s because you are *sips on my tea* For someone who begged and begged, you’re acting a fool. Continue to drown in your misery

jackharlow Thanks 😊 I will

user I’m still wondering what happened between y/n and Jack

user SAAME. It’s obvious something did

jackharlow Maybe, maybe not.

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux

@harlowsbby

@arination99

@cmalass

@jackharloww

@minkookie95

@deannaard

@jacksmoviestar

@harlowcomehome

@fdl305

@httpkoylinnn

@xoxokiaraaxoxo

@hoodharlow

@automaticpeachsong

@amethyst09

@aliciacat20

@allyson15

#jack harlow #instagram au #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fic #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow x yn #jack harlow x y/n

[polaroidcats]

It just hit me. For part 2 of assigning german/austrian songs to the marauders, this time with Remus:

Egoist by Falco.

You know it's true.

(This is the only Remus bashing you will ever get from me, he is my babygirl and he has never done anything wrong in his life ever)

Oh wow okay I didn't know I'd be coming home to Remus bashing in my inbox today but here we are! Why are you calling him an egoist? Just because he abandoned his pregnant (so very straight) wife (so very straightly) and didn't take responsibility for that until a 17 year old kicked his ass? Idk what you're on about, that's a weird AU, Remus would never do that.

I see your Falco and I raise you: Junge Römer. You know Sirius played that song on repeat for like a week and thought he was the funniest person ever because of Remus's name.

Also I should note, I'm a bit tipsy (ON REMUS WINE!) atm so this is NOT the official German Remus playlist, this is the shitpost version of the official German Remus playlist, here we go, no thoughts just vibes:

Okayokay I'm thinking abt austrian music now and since we're pretty much the only 2 people invested in these playlists anyways I won't worry about the musicians being well known or not (though I'd love to know which of these you knew and which you didn't!).

May I sugesst Wolfgang Amrbos' Die Kinettn wo i schlof as homeless Remus Lupin's crying song. I feel a bit bad about putting this on the list because the song is genuinely so good and emotional and it made me cry when I was a child (I grew up listening to Ambros) but yeah. Uhm. No further explanation, also idek if you'll understand the dialect lol

DIALECT! When making the german Sirius list one of my Remus thoughts was what the german equivalent to welsh/scottish remus is and I've come to the conclusion that the obvious answer is Vorarlberg. SO obviously Vo Melo Bis Ge Schoppornou has to be included on the list. No I don't understand much either but it's still german (and imho one of the sexiest german accents, I said what I said).

Ham kummst is toxic wolfstar divorce AU core!!!!

Okay this one is actually a serious (lol) suggestion I think Remus would actually really like and relate to Sie mögen sich by Kätpn Peng! ALso maybe Tier by Käptn Peng?

Meine Sonne by Grossstadtgeflüster as angsty REMUS POV either poa era or first war or sth

Also I know this is officially the inofficial Remus list but i had another galaxy brain idea - Aurélie by Wir sind Helden is a song about french Sirius in an AU of our german marauders AU.

oKAAAY ANYWAYS BACK TO AUSTRIAN MUSIC Ich Lebe by Christl Stürmer is also a Remus/wolfstar song now, because I said so.

sepp haT gesagT wir müssen alles anzünden is just pure chaos marauders vibes tell me I'm wrong.

okayyy back to remus Irgendwann bleib I dann dort by STS is also Remus. ANd Gö, du bleibst heut nacht bei mir is needy Remus in a werid fwb situation with remus or sth idk

ALso since I've given up any pretense of choosing things that make sense I also suggest 1001 Nacht is about wolfstar friends to lovers slowburn. YOU KNOW IT'S TRUE

Okay also I just wanted to add something by AnnenMayKantereit because why not, and I'm sure there are better songs but I decided on 21,22,23 purely because of the youth/death themes and bc Jily died at 21 and Remus and Sirius died in their mid-late thirties.

okay now i made myself sad i need one more nonsense answwer and then i'll post this glorious completely coherent masterpiece

I was going to go with LaFee for a tasteful last song but then spotify suggested Tokio Hotel and who am I to disagree?! you can't tell me angsty early 2000s german teenage werewolf remus lupin DIDN'T listen to them, I'm sorry but he really felt the lyrics of Durch den Monsun.

yeah idek what this is i'm sure it's EXACTLY what you expected (lol) uhm i blame the remus wine. Any thoughts on the playlist??

#iek what to tag this as LOL #remus lupin #german marauders agenda #neongreenllama #i look forward to doing an actual real version of this with you soon though!!!! #but doing the shitpost version was way too much fun to not do it #if you have any real or shitpost additions pls add them <3 #ramblings #just be glad i didnt put atemlos on the list it was a close call #also there isnt any EAV but i almost added some #you know this list couldve been so much worse even when i think of it #chaos posting

[sir-kuroo]

SINCE ITS TETSUREIII SZN!!!! I AM HEREEE WITHHHH TEH A LITTOL Q/A EHEHEH

WHERE DID ALL THIS BEGINNN FROMMM !!! TEH FRIST PAGE OF TETSUREIII STORYYY <33

TELLL MEEEEEEEE EVERYTHINGGG!!!!!!!!

For how it all began:

It was love at first sight for the both of us. Like you see a person and you just fit like missing puzzle pieces. We talked like it wasn't our first time seeing each other. The crowd just faded and it seemed like it's just the two of us. We knew we would never forget that moment but we have to part ways. Days or months passed maybe even a year and it became just a distant memory. Maybe something I drew an inspiration from for my story, until we met again at a different circumstance. This time it's no longer a one time thing and he won't allow it to be a one-time thing either. We just picked up where we left off and we both knew that this was it. It might be an ordinary story for some but it was serendipitous for us, knowing that all the heartaches, loneliness and solitude we endured are what led us to each other. Finally, we're at the right place and right time with the right person.

We're friends first, because I came off a little detached he knew it would take time but he was patient. Started with sending funny memes and reels until he gauged what I liked. Scheduled phone calls bc I dont do well in chats until it became a habit for us to call each other at that specific time and day. We talked about anything that we could expand, our theories, our day, rant abt officemates. He debated with me for fun throwing what ifs scenarios. Then he began being more physically present. Going to my office to pick me up. Taking me out on a friendly date. He wasn't flirty at first until he smoothly transitioned being INTJ x ENTP friendship to lovers bc the chemistry and the hidden tension can't be denied anyway. He made me feel secured to be with him. Like I'm free. Free to fall, to love and to be myself.

below the cut is how I ended up simping for him teheee

I was really into Oikawa. He's my first love which I learned to get over just now bc I miss Kuroo in a way I don't miss Oikawa. (Why does this sound so real?) Ngl, it's Kuroo I found to be most attractive but he seemed so unattainable for me that I did a pass. At first, I just love writing for him because a mutual loves him very much and my readers always fangirl for him in my fics and all the requests I'm getting are for Kuroo Kuroo Kuroo even if I even voluntarily write for Oikawa. Lol. I was like okaaay. Until I asked for match ups and ask games and I ended up getting him over and over again too. Tell me about it. Haha. Then I posted some selfship stuff abt Oikawa and I got nothing. I posted that I got Kuroo for an ask game and everyone just idk interacted and I was like uhmm what? Even my moots from other fandom are into the tetsurei agenda. What are these people seeing that I'm not seeing? Like yeah he's handsome and he wears suit and tie which I love but...anyway lol just lol hahaha. (Gosh, I sounded so in denial on this) It's funny that we even work in the same field. A follower even pointed it out. Tbh I still can't understand where they are coming from. As time passed by, I enjoyed our ship more than anything else. He's all I can think to write about. TBH IDK! Hahaha! This made me reread all my kuroo fics and wondered howww? I reread the oldest one back in Dec 2020. It didn't do things for me then but it gave me the feels now. I even forgot what it was but the way I wrote for him never changed. I realized that in all the Y/Ns I wrote for all the characters, I've been writing myself whenever it's with Kuroo. I just realized it now. Maybe that's why it's easier for ppl to associate him with me too bc it shows. I still dk! But whatever I love him. I'd love to have a Kuroo just for me.

I think I'm oblivious like real life oblivious. Oh well. (Good luck to all the intj simps out there: I'm talkin for Rin, Tsukki, Akaashi, Geto, Niko) We're dense af and in denial. Good luck.

#tetsurei #AHHHHHHHHH I SQUEALLLLL BC IF THIS ASK #sml 💗💗💗 #—💟 zen #—💌 mail #TYSM BBY ZEN HUHUHUHU THABK YOU FOR INDULGING MEE

[youmarin]

"The Smile Has Left Your Eyes" rant.

*Spoilers below*

Gotta get it off my chest. Mostly bc I hurt for Kim Moo Young .

I read the series summary and I was like, "Mmm okaaay there's gonna be trauma here." To be honest I didn't think grandly of him during the first episodes. Actually I didn't know what to think of Kim Moo Young. A very goodlooking mf who's a loner. He grew in an orphanage after the incident and well he seemed to care for the nuns there but that was it. He didn't let anyone close or felt anything for anyone (the closest thing before things developed was that coworker of his but even they didn't appear too close to be called friends? idk).

Until he overheard that conversation between Seung Ah and Jang Woo Sang, he didn't seem to do stuff that would make him go out of his way. He seemed to be looking to entertain himself even at the cost of other people's well being. That was because he normally was numb minded. He didn't understand people's behaviour, like for example, why people "had" to do things they didn't really want to do. So when he taunted Seung Ah (even though it must've been uncomfortable. I felt like that watching it), I thought, "He's being quite an asshole, but maybe that's his way to try and help her step up for herself?". Think about it, things are never as easy as just saying it. She thought she couldn't get herself out of that situation but Moo Young didn't see things like that. He saw things differently. And so he was like, "If you don't wanna do it then don't." Simple as that.

Seung Ah fell for Moo Young because of that. And I don't think she really loved him either. She was clinging to him to escape her own life, one that was mostly decided for her and that she didn't want. (Plus they've "known" each other for like 2 months. C'mon.)

Still at this point, Moo Youngs motivations regarding Seung Ah were obviously messed up. "I wanted to know what drives a rich girl.", the whole bunch of lies, working up people for the fun of it. I wasn't a fan. He really gave an uneasy feeling (and with that face too. I was like, "Damn he's so fine but something's really wrong with him. Can't say I like him but I don't unlike him" lmao). And all that game got two people killed (which of course he didn't plan on it to end like that, and it was her fiancé, speeding and being drunk off his ass that didn't even bother to press the breaks before they crashed. ). But feeling nothing over it? Something's up up there in his head.

Same with Lim Yu Ri. He keeps her from ending her life and she catches feelings (he collects broken girls and broken girls love him 💀). He learns she's on a tough spot with another girl who's extorting her. And he intervenes again and helps someone who's also clearly not in her right mind to commit murder. Moo Young stands and watches. And then goes and cleans it up. ( 🚩❗)

Seung-Ah's and Jeong Mi Yeon's death were not his doing. Directly. But he did stuff that lead to that end. And still, no remorse, no guilt. Nothing. Again, technically he didn't do it so why would he feel those? But well, any other person would, wouldn’t they?

It's understandable and logical for Jin Gook to be a worried brother and not want Jin Kang near him. Oh but wait! Jin Gook might know the guy! From way back when he was a little boy! He's aware of the great possibility that Moo Young might be actually the son of a criminal he accidentally shot to death more than twenty years ago. And that Jin Kang and Moo Young's pasts are linked. But Jin Gook is scared for Jin Kang and more scared for himself to face the past and burst the bubble he's been trying to keep for so long (though it's still eating him alive).

Unfortunately for him, Jin Kang falls in love with Moo Young and for her, Moo Young decides to try an be a good person and stop acting as he had been until then. With her help.

"Promise me you'll be a good person." "Then teach me."

And he starts getting curious again about the past he'd forgotten about thanks to (funny, huh) the car crash he was in with Seung Ah and Jang Woo Sang. And what does Jin Gook decides to do? Stab. the. guy. A police officer. Oh and after calling Moo Young a murderer, a devil and everything he could come up with. Talking big when he had also killed someone (be it an accident, that the person was a murderer and that he might've ended up sentenced with death anyway, it doesn't take away that he killed someone).

And then everyone at the station being normal about it?? "Oh there was no report." Nobody investigated shit. Tak So Jung saw the footage and still did shit about it. But that also lead to Moo Young seeking the doctor (the doctor who let go an amnesic 7 year old boy from a hospital alone to who knows where with nobody to take care of him. Just relying on chance, "Maybe it'll be better". Like some sort of study subject.).

More questions were brought to Moo Young. The only thing the doctor could tell him was that his father fell to his death. But he knew that wasn't it because every time that the memory came he saw and heard a gun fired. So he goes to where they say his father died, finds his house (that scene when he's inside the house and the memories come back full force that he falls to the ground. Ok, kill me now that was so intense.) And he finds out that his girlfriend's brother is his father's killer. Now, how can he tell her that?

He goes back, he's angry, he has to know the rest. He breaks into Jin Gook and Jin Kang's house. Finds an old missing child poster with his picture in it. Then he reaches out for help with Jang Woo Sang's older sister (from the people he got tangled with in the beginning and that Jin Kang had stopped him from getting involved with again. And Jin Kang had told him that those people were capable of anything. Honestly didn't get that woman's deal. She was really a bitch who loved nobody and loved toying with people. Girl, get a life won't you. Mind your business.) He asks for a gun and breaks in again into their house. When Jin Gook arrives he sees Moo Young's shoes in the entryway. And he admits that he shot his father. Moo Young asks why and tells him he ruined his childhood and family. But was he really going to shoot him? I don't know. I really want to believe he wouldn’t shoot him. Because Jin Gook is important to Jin Kang. And I know he said a couple of times "You're just you to me." Which basically I translate to "The hell with your brother." (plus he stabbed him. I have resentment over that lol. Like, what was the reason?).

But I'm glad we didn't see that happen (for Moo Young. The grudge again 💀). Later he finds out that the story he had made around his drawing, the sole clue he was left with for a long time was actually not true. His dad, who he thought had in a moment searched for him, was not a police officer (that was Jin Gook, in fact), it was a murderer. A murderer who killed his mom and two others (when I heard about the other two people that's when I realized, "Ok those are Jin Kang's parents" and the idea that popped into my head when Tak So Jung told Jin Gook "If that's the boy you were searching they can't be together.", that Jin Kang and Moo Young were siblings, was wrong. But they scared me for a sec. with that. I was like, "Hell nah I love SIG but what's up with his dramas always having smthn (the age gaps in Café Minamdang and High School King of Savvy? Mostly the Minamdang one. Don't get me wrong I still loved the shows but there was that fact that eek! Aand now incest? Pls no. And thank GOD it wasn't. Phew 😬😅😂)

Continuing, Moo Young feels disgusted (for someone who barely felt anything now he feels this great love for Jin Kang and is so troubled with all the things he's found out, and the things still left for him to know) and that it now makes sense his way of being. The Dr. tells him his past and his father's doing have nothing to do with him and that he's an example of that.

"You're just you."

The "I love you" text. She knew he was in pain.

"Are you really ok with who I am?" "I want to be born again." 🥺💔

"To be born again you have to live in a warm house. A warm house smells like warm rice."

And when she got burnt and he was so worried and it brought another piece of the puzzle of his memory. He and Jin Kang had been together all along.

(Also that scene of them comparing their scars? I was not okay.💔) "They look like a map. And we followed that map to get here."

But he got it wrong and believed they were siblings (also bc of that lying bitch of Jang Woo Sang's sister. Honestly I didn't think he'd believe her. He always was so "Don't trust people, people are nothing." So clever, used to lie and play around like that that I thought he'll ask for proof or something. But that was how he remembered it and well the bitch hadn't lied to him until that point so oh well) and couldn't tell Jin Kang because he loved her. But not the way a brother loves a sister. And how could he tell her that yes, your dad is the same as mine, a murderer who killed our mom and two more people. And even when he found out that thankfully they were not siblings he still didn't want Jin Gook to tell her anything because still the truth wasn't much better. His father killed her parents.

And then Kim Moo Young commited murder trying to protect Jin Kang when he didn't have to.

"I killed someone when I felt human the most."

Jin Kang unable to believe it and breaking down saying he couldn’t have done it, that he couldn’t even stand seeing a bird or a fish hurt. Because she knew him better than anyone. He truly was sensitive.

How Moo Young hugged Jin Gook (See that? No need for hurting him more, man.) Left him a note. Signed with his real name. 💔

"When I met Jin Kang I was able to breathe again." 😭

And when she pointed a gun to her forehead his façade vanished.

"Go back."

"To where? You've been there from the start."

The fucking ending. She made him admit that he wanted to live right before that mf came in and shot her first, that being the last thing he saw, breaking his heart one last time before he was shot and died too.

How she didn't get to say "I love you" back. He only got to say it while he was dying and she just texted it to him. And it was probably the first time he remembered ever saying it to someone. Like when Jin Kang asked him if he had ever really liked someone and he said, "you."

How in the beginning he was the one who looked over and treasured Jing Kang but no one looked over him for so long until she came around again years later without remembering him and finally showed him love.

(And how it was her voice now that woke him up from the nightmare/memory.)

I hated that they always kept Jin Kang in the dark. Like, tell her something pls. Enlighten the woman too. She died and never got to know the mess that made Moo Young break up with her. She missed so much. Trying to protect her that much ended bad.

How different would've been things maybe if Moo Young also had had someone like Jin Kang did. (?)

If Jin Gook had told them everything!!! Instead of being so against them. Moo Young made mistakes but he then tried (and it really showed in his eyes how he instantly regretted it when Jin Gook treated him like that. Because he wasn't doing it for him, he was doing it for Jin Kang.). And Jin Gook was always like, "You can start afresh" (even though he always carried his grief and regret but still, he tried to believe that but apparently that didn't apply to Moo Young or wtf).

Loved, loved, loved the scene when they first slept together, how full of love and how they couldn't help their laughter because of how happy they were at that momemt. All the times she squished his face. So cute hahah. And when he carried her inside his house. How she helped him make his house a home. He didn't even have a single glass because, what was the need for those things? He's the only one who's ever there.

And that scene when he's looking at the night sky and cries and Jin Kang appears there. "How didn't I know? There are so many beautiful things in the world." And then the shot shows him lying there alone. I don't have a heart anymore, this show stepped on it and shattered it. 💔 It was so sad but such a beautiful scene.

When she told her smthn like, I hope you always have things like plants to water and food you have to eat before it spoils and that those stuff cling to you and all that. For him to keep living and enjoying the simple things. Things that in the end they didn't have the chance to live for. 🥺🥲

Other stuff that ended me:

"You planted love in her heart". "I don't believe it but I hope it's true."

"You protected her with your tiny body." "Now I feel proud of my big, ugly scar." (And this got me thinking how he protected her back then and then she did the same and took the bullet for him. But in the end both got burned and both were shot 💔💔💔)

And the songs "Lost", "Star". Loved them. And "Hidden Memory" (again, that whole scene).

Anyways, great name. I have puffy eyes thanks to this drama. The smile left me eyes.

I'll edit this if something else comes up in my head later but I had to write all these so I can process what I just finished watching yesterday evening.

#the smile has left your eyes #tshlye #kim moo young #yoo jin kang #seo in guk #jung so min #park sung woong #yoo jin gook #hundred million stars from the sky #kang sun ho #han jung yoon #kdrama

[wincore]

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff 

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of. 

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low. 

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours. 

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget. 

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore. 

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume. 

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type. 

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises.  If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts. 

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself. 

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask. 

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it. 

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it. 

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.  

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily. 

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year. 

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately. 

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one. 

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt. 

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover. 

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours. 

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth. 

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words. 

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.  

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table. 

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad. 

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back. 

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing. 

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters. 

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs. 

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.” 

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can. 

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off. 

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating. 

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know. 

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young. 

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.” 

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling. 

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung. 

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses. 

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention. 

Inviting him somewhere. 

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure. 

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more. 

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter? 

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.  

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him. 

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.” 

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.” 

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.” 

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts. 

You’re disappointing. 

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose. 

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps. 

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask. 

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you. 

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue. 

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.” 

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you. 

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families. 

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe. 

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard. 

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them. 

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out. 

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure. 

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up. 

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt. 

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart. 

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it. 

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him. 

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak. 

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.  

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time. 

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional. 

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love. 

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved. 

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding. 

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either. 

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next  meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple. 

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action. 

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t. 

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days. 

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.” 

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by. 

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers. 

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever. 

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout. 

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!” 

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?” 

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this. 

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose. 

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond. 

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—” 

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder. 

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him. 

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too. 

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again. 

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling. 

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you. 

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care. 

 “Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there. 

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally. 

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer. 

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand. 

#kim doie perfect man bye #doyoung x reader #nct x reader #nct doyoung scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines #doyoung imagines #nct fanfic #doyoung fanfic #nct angst #doyoung angst #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 angst #nct college au #moonwrites #okaaay idk what this is either #if you get annoyed midway thru the fic you are perfectly valid <3 #i will literally never write smth like this ever again 🤡🤡🤡 #if you notice inconsistency in character no u dont #(i had to fix up some earlier inconsistencies but it gave more inconsistencies maybe i should give up writing for good)

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe (read part 2 here) When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe has a very effective method of getting through college. His little sister, who’s caught him making coffee at three in the morning on more than one occasion the past week alone, would beg to differ. 

“You’re the best older brother,” she starts off, and he’s sure she’s trying to convince herself more than him at this point, “but you need to fix your sleeping habits.” Then, because she’s his little sister, she’d flash him a smile and pat his shoulder reassuringly.

(The comment is not lost on him though. He understands his sleeping situation will eventually wear him down if it hadn’t already, but he believes if he’ll drink a coffee every morning and a Monster every night, he’ll get through three days. By the third day, he’ll hardly be coherent but that doesn’t matter because he’ll conk out for the next twelve hours and then repeat.)

“Don’t worry, Tonia,” he says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he contemplates whether it’s worth it or not to swallow a pill of 5-hour energy with his morning coffee. “Once break ends, I’ll get back to normal.”

“You said that six seasons ago.”

Childe frowns, trying to remember if his sleeping schedule was this dysfunctional last year. “Huh?”

“The Walking Dead seasons,” Tonia clarifies, as if she’s not twelve years old and the show is for grown adults. He thinks. He hasn’t checked Commonsensemedia ever since La Signora labeled him as a “helicopter parent” and his Netflix tab has been playing How to Get Away with Murder as background noise for the past few weeks.

Isn’t it a show about zombies though? Tonia’s sheepish smile tells it all, because it’s the same exact guilty look he had when he got caught red-handed as a kid.

(Once he remembers later, Childe promises himself, he’ll check out The Walking Dead.)

“Oh. Well. I have a lot of shows to catch up on, you know. Not to mention a ton of my professors gave me reading for over the break.”

A half lie. They did give him a lot of reading because each professor assumed that their classes were his only one, and with seven days left, he still has a textbook worth of reading to go through. But there are no shows that Childe would sacrifice his precious sleep for. As a matter of fact, he would love to sleep. He’s spent the majority of his classes back in high school sleeping and faking attention, saving his grade at the last minute — it was quite the extreme sport really, if he says so himself.

Whenever he tries to sleep recently, his thoughts run at several hundred miles per hour, and he spends several hours staring at the ceiling before succumbing to the computer at his desk and watching trashy movies. At this point, he must have gone through the entire romance comedy list on Netflix. (Not a proud point in his life but if anybody ever wanted him to give a list of best to worst romance comedy movies, he now has one.)

Tonia, on the other hand, isn’t incredibly convinced.

Admittedly, the excuse was lame. Also, he can’t easily lie to his little sister, who’s far shrewder than he takes her for at times.

“You never start your reading in advance. You like to speed read it right before your class or watch a five-minute video on the chapters while your teachers take attendance. But that’s… uh, ‘a bad work ethic.’” Tonia looks immensely proud of herself as she says this, finishing it off with, “Zhongli told me that.”

“Zhongli?” he repeats, trying to remember if that’s one of her classmates or some stranger that’s hoping to kidnap his sister.

“The guy that volunteers at the library sometimes. He recommended me a loot of good books to read, but he talks like an old man.”

“How old?” Childe can tell she’s enjoying this — talking about her new friend at the library that he’ll probably have to run a background check on.

“Like he’s in his sixties or something. But he looks… actually, he looks your age! And he’s a student too. I told him all about you.”

Well, that doesn’t sound very reassuring coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old. He’s not sure if that translates to his social security number, his current dilemma, or just that he’s her older brother.

“Like all of the stories you told me when I was a kid. And then when Lumine came to pick me up, she stayed to show him pictures of you too.”

“Of course she did,” he mumbles, ruffling her hair. One of these days he’s going to move without telling his classmates and the twins won’t enter his apartment unannounced. (But Tonia adores their company and the stories they tell her far too much for him to actually do it. But that doesn’t mean he’s above making threats when they tell his little sister about the bet he made about white-out and how it could dye hair. The jury is still out on this one.) “She’s just mad because I get away with it and she doesn’t. But don’t do it yourself. It’s a bad habit,” he adds, remembering that he should at least try to be a good influence on his younger sister when he can.

“Okaaay,” she says unconvincingly, before shaking her hair and running off to her room with lunch he prepared for her.

Watching her close the door and no doubt continue her binge of The Walking Dead, he takes out his phone and texts Lumine.

 Childe

12:35

ur a horrible influence on tonia

 Childe

12:35

and whos this ZHONGLI

 Childe

12:35

also is twd appropriate for 12 y/os

 Twin 1

12:37

a normal person would say hi

 Twin 1

12:37

also 1. me n aether watched it when we were 12 so probably and 2. some guy at the library that also goes to our school

 Well. At least he’s somebody they know. But The Walking Dead?

 Childe

12:38

thats not very convincing

 Childe

12:38

also dont ppl DIE? get BITTEN???? what if she gets nightmares

 Twin 1

12:39

isnt she 12 r u telling me u weren’t watching R rated movies at 12

 Childe

12:42

thats very different from a 10 season long show that is hailed as “one of the greatest horror shows in history” and “paved the way for post-apocalyptic horror”

 Twin 1

12:42

well if she has trouble sleeping she could always watch asmr. that helps me during midterms idk

 Childe

12:42

whats asmr

 Childe

12:43

asking for my sister btw

 Twin 1

12:44

A feeling of well-being combined with a tingling sensation in the scalp and down the back of the neck, as experienced by some people in response to a specific gentle stimulus, often a particular sound.

 Childe

12:45

wtf?

 Twin 1

12:45

people on the internet make random sounds or just talk into a mic n its supposed to be very relaxing. how have u never found out abt this?????

 Childe

12:45

idk the only thing on my youtube recommended r greatest stunts and chapter review videos

 Twin 1

12:47

… makes sense

 Twin 1

12:47

check out rex lapis’ channel he looks like ur type

 Childe

12:48

i thought we were talking about my sister????

 Twin 1

12:50

[message screenshots.jpg]

 Twin 1

12:50

ya she told me everything

 Twin 1

12:50

have fun i need to convince aether to not commit arson bc of his TA

 Childe

12:51

hope he does it

He opens his Youtube app, typing in Rex Lapis and expecting Lumine’s suggestion to be a joke. Despite them being friends for nearly two years now, she’s never made any indication of knowing his type. And he’s sure he’s never been that vocal about it either, only shooting appreciative looks at history majors and paying more attention than necessary to the TA for ‘Tradition of Justice and Law.’ (It’s unfortunate that those short-term crushes never led to anything, but maybe that’s for the better seeing that Childe has never understood the appeal of relationships.)

It is an ASMR channel, judging by the ASMR playlist he finds as he scrolls through the account. The icon shows no face — only a microphone — which leaves him skeptical. Most of the video titles belong in a petrology lecture as well, which makes him even more convinced that it’s a joke. He finds a few readings of ancient literature and decides to pick ‘I discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)’ because that’s exactly what he needs. (Not the very moment — but ten hours later when he’s in the bed memorizing the pattern of his ceiling wondering why he stole from his fifth grade teacher’s candy jar during lunch.)

When Childe opens the video, he damn near gasps.

The man in the video is exactly his type. His eyes are a soft amber color, framed with long lashes, and it’s almost enough for him to lose his dignity and message Lumine a long thank you text about how she is always right and he’ll pay for her coffee for the following week.  He smiles at the screen, albeit a little sheepishly, dark hair framing his face with a long ponytail that Childe can’t see the end of. On his right ear, there are a pair of earrings with a single feather that brush against his neck when he moves his head.

Even before he speaks, Childe is mesmerized, sure he’ll already memorize his features from the curve of his nose to the way he tilts his head, displaying the expanse of his neck.

Really — he reminds him of actors in historical dramas, the way he sits regally, and how he speaks. His voice is low and slow as he adopts a careful manner of speaking, leaning into the mic.

“I’m Rex Lapis, and I’ll be discussing igneous petrology today, which is part one in a three-part petrology series. I apologize in advance, seeing that my knowledge is limited compared to many petrologists out there but my friend Venti said that many of my viewers are here for my voice, so I’m very excited to start today’s video.”

Holy shit.

For the following week, Childe learns less about petrology, the philosophy of economics, and historical revisionism concerning matters of war and more about Rex Lapis, who is not in love with his voice but often finds himself in the middle of long tangents without explanations. His favorite book series is the Legend of the Lone Sword, which he says he’ll look forward to reading out loud for the channel. (Childe replays that part of the video again and again, captivated by his excitement as he mindlessly taps the mic while he speaks, his tangent cutting off mid-word — as it usually does, much to his dismay.)

His guilty obsession is not lost on Tonia, who realizes that instead of drinking Monster every night he’s been engrossed in his phone completely, often not noticing her or when the water starts bubbling. But because his sleeping schedule has been alleviated, she says nothing until Lumine comes over as she always does, not forgetting their weekly schedule of watching trashy movies while leeching off of Childe’s food.

Because he doesn’t trust the twins with the kitchen — even if they can cook — she instead spends her time sitting next to Tonia and spreading more of her anti-Childe propaganda while they wait. This usually involves Tonia occasionally calling out Childe’s name and asking, “Is that true?” or “Did you really do that?”

This time is different though.

Worried that Lumine finally decided to show Tonia a video of last semester’s presentation, he leans over, looking at the computer screen.

And he’s wrong. Unfortunately. Maybe it should’ve been his presentation because even if he botched it and accidentally projected his work process — screaming notes and all — to the class instead of his actual presentation, it would’ve been better than the two of them watching one of Rex Lapis’ videos together.

The ‘I read Erosion: Essays of Undoing to you as it rains outside’ video, to be specific, which is where Rex Lapis is embarrassed by Venti mid video when asked if this was his idea of a date with a lover. (And then it ends with Rex Lapis asking for video suggestions from the commentors, his face still flushed from the previous comments.)

Oh God — oh fuck.

“So he is your type,” Lumine says, her expression a bit too smug for his liking. Tonia looks half awake, scrolling through articles as the video plays, more interested in ‘Top 10 Glenn Rhee Moments’ than Childe’s crush. Her expression is a bit guilty as she does so — she’s biting her lip and avoiding his gaze, but he assumes that it’s just because they went through his YouTube history.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” he retorts, but the YouTube history she pulls up once Tonia hands the computer over to her says it all. (It’s quite mortifying, really — even Tonia is giving him a look, but it’s not as bad as Lumine’s shit eating grin.)

“Well… he does have a nice voice,” Childe finally says, thinking that perfectly encompasses his most recent obsession. Because he does have a nice voice — it’s soothing and speaks to him without really speaking to him directly. (The good looks are a bonus, he assures himself. A fantastic bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.)

“He does,” Tonia confirms, smiling toothily up at him, and he resists the urge to ruffle her hair with Lumine staring at him so skeptically. “But I don’t understand much of what he’s saying. He — heh — talks like an old man.”

“Don’t worry, Tonia, your brother likes him because he’s attractive,” Lumine informs her, now fast forwarding on one of Rex Lapis’ videos. “Did you know that he lives nearby?”

“Huh?”

The knife he’s holding clatters to the floor, and the two look down and back up at him with— hold on, why does it feel like they’re in on a secret he doesn’t know about?

“Yeah, he’s working on his grad thesis I think… Aether told me it was about something on history,” she muses. “That’s why I recommended his channel to you. He’s a bit of a celebrity in his department.” Childe’s sure his jaw dropped now, trying to maintain his facial expression as he takes out a new knife to chop up the onions.

“Really,” he tries to say as calmly as possible, wondering how he should accompany Aether to his lectures without trying to seem as obvious as possible. His voice is a bit shaky he realizes but he can’t quite make the connection between Rex Lapis and actual graduate student that goes to his university.

“Yeah, actually…” Lumine is definitely pretending to think now, enjoying this far too much. “He—”

“It’s Zhongli!” his little sister yells excitedly, practically jumping up and down at this point as if she won the lottery. “Zhongli runs an ASMR channel and he talks just like that in real life! Right, Lumine?”

“Yeah.”

Childe sighs, holding a hand up to his face. The realization that he’s been obsessed with the same guy that hears about every stupid thing he did secondhand is way too much — and the fact that he’s been listening to his voice every night before he went to bed the past week is way too much. He’s sure his face is redder than before judging by the amused expressions on Lumine’s and Tonia’s faces — really, they’re mirror images of each other right now.

Not for the first time, Childe swears to himself that he’ll never let her into his apartment without signing a contract ever again.

#Genshin Impact #Childe/Zhongli #Childe & Tonia #Childe & Lumine #asmr fic p1 #fuck ao3 (holds head in hands) #asmr fic

[randomnameless]

Macuil friday thoughts

In Edel and Constance’s B support, Edel says the crest of Macuil “already existed in the Empire" talking about how Constance hid her Noa crest -

Now, apparently, Birdie left after the war of heroes. Noa most likely parted with Rhea after the first Chalice incident, after the WoH. Meaning, someone with a Macuil crest was already in the Empire when Noa and her “children” came to Adrestia (is Constance talking about biokids, as in half-nabateans? or children of the people Noa blood bonded with? And what about her oath to never pass her crest down?).

More important than Noa’s kids though, is Birdie! Macuil actually passed down his crest, like Indech and Cichol? Macuil became disgusted by the world of humans, but at one point, he developed magic with them and granted, at least, to one person, his blood.

maybe macuil granted his blood to a random who seemed to be a good guy, then it was revealed that guy was a Valtome like and he said “peace i’m out”

It is however surprising that no one in our imperial noble student bear a crest of Macuil - you’d think having the crest of a saint would immediatly make a family one of the 6 great ones, but either it died out (when Indech managed to be passed down to two families and Cichol is still going on strong!) or the Macuil blooded humans figged away somewhere.

Also, lizards have critical lines or lines when they use their staggering blows and I never noticed :

Macuil goes :

“ You must prove yourself! ”

 okaaay

“ Tremble before me! ”

Birdie thinks he’s hot stuff, for sure he is annoying, but not the most annoying thing in this game.

“ Wretched children! ”

Birdie thinks humans are children? Or people attacking him are children? Is he in a “boomer” phase, berating younger gens or somethings?

“ Your spirit is weak! ”

What kind of spirit is he talking about? If this was supposed to be trashtalk it doesn’t really work.

Indech also has lines :

“ Your ashes are for the wind! ”

Dude what are you talking about ashes? Seriously ? You’re a water dragon you can’t roast anything

“ You must prove yourself! ”

Same stuff, but unlike Macuil, Indech is actually playing a “are you worthy enough” game to hand out his bow, so this makes some kind of sense. Macuil’s fighting against what he perceives as thieves, so it doesn’t work.

“ Insignificant creature! ”

Indech sees humans as insignificant or it’s just a random crit quote? Is he roleplaying?

“ I see right through you! ”

Uh... Maybe he is a good judge of character? Or can see through our traps and tactics, but that’s something he should say to Claude, not to, potentially, his bro Seteth or Boar!Dimitri...

So maybe those quotes (I didn’t find them on the datamine! So I don’t know what they’re like in the jp version) are random, but if they are to be believed, when attacked, Macuil thinks humans (people attacking him) are children, and Indech thinks they’re insignificant?

No wonder why they don’t get along or don’t pay a visit to their sister who surrounds herself with humans in her monastery...

And yet, they still agreed to help humans during the WoH, Macuil taught them magic and Indech “helped those in need with his skills and wisdom”. They gave their blood. Maybe it was just a whim, or they really wanted to get rid of Nemesis and couldn’t leave Rhea and Cichol alone, idk. Or maybe Cethleann asked them and since they’re doting uncles they couldn’t refuse, even if it meant siding and fighting side by side with humans.

Tl;Dr : I think Macuil used to befriend humans and see them in a good light, even during the War of Heroes. Then he left, for some reason (I suppose it has to do with the Elites and their families), he traveled a bit and now when we see him 1k later he is fed up with humans and their wars. He thinks of them as “children”.

Indech remained in Fodlan in his lake, and either roleplays hard, either thinks humans are “insignificant creatures”. Still, this is the guy who has fun sending legion of phantoms in a FOW map to “test” humans to see if they’re worthy enough to use his bow, and if they didn’t get slaughtered and managed to “defeat” (note how Indech doesn’t fight to death/sleep unlike Macuil) him he laughs and hands out his shiny bow.

#FE16 #macuil #indech #nabatean stuff #I might start an useless thoughts series about this game #now i was sure macuil didn't pass out his crest but apparently he did #and yet we don't see anyone in the empire with that crest #given how the kids out here are heirs or something you'd think they'd have a crest? of macuil? #where's the 'only crested people can inherit others are doomed to the sewers' rhetoric? #where are the macuil people? #both gerth and ochs we see in game and they don't have it #but if they're the leader of their houses then they should have a crest ? #indech messes with humans by sending hundred of phantoms #dude that is not funny #i stand by hc that noa was a nabatean #maybe constance doesn't really know about giant lizards but did noa have children? #meaning smol lizards living in Adrestia free and keeping their 'bloodline' pure? they didn't associate with humans more than needed? #hopefully they weren't relic'd #then with time the offsprings lost their lizard traits and became regular humans #also meaning Seteth might not have been the only weirdo to shag a human

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Thurs 1 Aug

Harry is, unsurprisingly, everywhere today. Lots more gucci fragrance campaign materials today as expected, including footage of Harry driving a vintage car recklessly through a field, fabulous and shades of real life; always the driver. Tons of behind the scene shots, really gorgeous HQs, the actual perfume hit the shelves, and loads of press coverage including an interview. Harry's quotes in it are sweet, some of them quite nice really, like when he talks about finding his own style and "becoming a lot more comfortable" (and others are hilariously deadpan trolling, I'm pretty sure) but the article itself is pointlessly shitty, leaning heavily on a tired Harry vs 1D-who-were-holding-him-back narrative, booorring. Also irritating- Karamo from Queer Eye's recollection of meeting Harry, which is that he told him about the existence of Grindr and blew his little straight guy mind. Okaaay sure. Since literally no one believes that Harry was, as we're told, unaware that it was possible to online date or hook-up, given that he's not actually a recently arrived alien from another planet, interpretations are that either Karamo was covering for him or that he didn't actually out himself to someone who he met only briefly and in a professional context. I'm picturing wide eyed incredulous and innocent looking Harry egging him on like "oh my gosh rilly tell me more"....it's funny, but it isn't too. I wonder if it being that easy to convince people he's slow is depressing for Harry or if at this point he just finds being that drastically underestimated useful. In any case I certainly think he enjoys looking interviewers in the eye and saying things like "oh yes I sleep in the gucci fragrance every night" or "my mom smells like Roman Candles" (and I'm looking forward to more of this fragrance related nonsense in the coming weeks) and watching them nod seriously. Idk if he has a movie role coming up or not but I nominate our boy for an Oscar either way, he's a pro. Unlike, to give just one totally random example of some very unprofessional behavior, the fellow gucci model who let herself be recorded having a crude and graphic conversation about wanting to fuck Harry which was then posted publicly along with a bunch of thirst posts, and said yeah that was me lol when asked like there was nothing wrong with that kind of gross behavior. The posts are down now but what difference does that make? Imagine using your fifteen minutes of fame to say things like that in a public forum about a co worker when you could use it for literally anything else, SMH.

Today we got a video of Liam conversing with to a goat!! That's it that's today's Liam news. Welllll... Okay fine there's more. He also had a big interview article; he says he has an underwear shoot coming so brace yourselves for that, and music soon (oh for more details but the quote is literally "I have music coming soon," not a word more) but mostly it's about clothes of course. Asked about favorite past looks he brings up the Japan This Is Us premier UM YES that truly was an iconic look good call! He referred to his collaboration with Hugo as "a marriage of two brands" which is initially jarring, to see someone refer to themselves as a brand, but he's not wrong is he? I read it as more of one of those slips into the backstage version of talking about things, and will choose to believe or at least hope that Liam is clear on the difference between himself as a person and Liam Payne™️.

Meanwhile, Niall does me a solid and gives me an excuse to mention the excellent pictures posted yesterday of Yungblud and Lewis Capaldi snogging by commenting (😂😂😂) on the post, answers a tweet about whether he has a skin care routine ("yes I do indeed") and he also has an interview out today, in Today's Golfer. He talks about, surprise surprise, golf, for example his mission to get some of his following of 1D fans to take up golf.

And the UK celebrated Yorkshire Day in the best possible way- by tweeting lots about Louis Tomlinson, aka "Doncaster's finest export." Zayn was mentioned here and there as well, but he hasn't tied his image to his northern origins the way Louis has so I'm not surprised he didn't come up as much. That's all the Louis for today, as the "end of July" release date for 1883 Magazine turns out to be a sometime in Aug delivery date so we'll have to wait a little longer for the "interesting news" the interviewer told us we could expect. Plenty of time to get excited about what in the end, might or might not be interesting, only time will tell.

#harry styles #Liam Payne #Niall Horan #Louis Tomlinson #Zayn #Louis #Niall #Liam #Harry #memory of a smell #queer eye #over sexualization of Harry in a professional context #it truly never ends does it #Liam and a goat #hugo #niall + golf #lewis capaldi #yungblud #Yorkshire Day #1883 magazine #1 Aug 19 #today's golfer

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Hey, I just wanted to say I love your fics on AO3 and I'm really gonna miss them!!! As one last request (since idk how much longer you're gonna do Andi Mack fics) could you do one where TJ and Cyrus are dating and have been for a while but Andi, Buffy, Jonah, and Marty dont know about it so they try and set them up and they just go along with it. Thanks!!! 💙💙💙

Thank you so much! I appreciate your support and I had a ton of fun with this one!

A/N: So, this is the last of the prompt requests in my inbox. I won’t be accepting any more for a while because I have a multi-chaptered story planned and I’d like to focus all my attention on that! I’ll be opening up requests again soon!

“Should we just tell them?” Cyrus whispered to T.J.

“What? No way! It’s free food!” T.J. happily dug into the pizza, stuffing his face with cheese and pepperoni.

Cyrus could only watch him, a soft smile playing on his lips because his boyfriend was just so incredibly cute - he probably loved food as much as he loved Cyrus. 

Then, he subtly moved his gaze to the nearby bush, where he knew his friends were secretly watching them, thinking that their little plan was working.

Ever since Andi’s party where they confessed their feelings in not so many words and held hands for the first time, Cyrus and T.J. had been inseparable. 

Of course, to them, it meant they were together-together. Dating. Boyfriends. The whole shebang.

Their friends, however, were totally unaware of this new development in Cyrus’ life. With Andi super excited to go to SAVA, Buffy and Marty finally dating, and Jonah getting settled into his new apartment, Cyrus never got the chance to tell them. He thought they would figure it out since he and T.J. were more attached to the hip than they ever were. 

But, they seemed to interpret that as mutual pining on both their parts. 

So, for the past two weeks, they had been setting them up on random dates.

Like last weekend, they told them they wanted to go to the movies and bought the tickets in advance. But when Cyrus and T.J. got there, they all had excuses as to why they could no longer make it but the two should go ahead and watch the movie anyway. Andi even Paypaled Cyrus some money for popcorn and drinks as an “apology”.

Then, on Tuesday, Buffy just came into school with a box of muffins, shoved them into T.J.’s hands and told him to share them with Cyrus.

On Thursday, they wanted to meet up at the Spoon with “the whole gang” after school. But when Cyrus and T.J. arrived, baby taters and milkshakes had been ordered for them and their friends nowhere to be found. Amber told them that Andi had called ahead, asking her to tell them that they would be late due to reasons.

And now, they were asked to meet everyone at the park, only to find a picnic spread of pizza, baby taters, muffins, and lemonade prepared for them. And, of course, their friends nowhere in sight.

Suffice to say, T.J. was enjoying all the free food.

“I feel kinda bad,” Cyrus stated as he picked up a baby tater. “They’re spending all this money on us thinking that it would get us together. But, we’re already together.”

“They could have just asked us,” T.J. pointed out in between bites. “You say I’m oblivious but it turns out they’re more oblivious than I am.”

Cyrus hummed in agreement as he chewed. “I mean… we can’t keep doing this forever. They’re bound to use up all their allowance at some point.”

T.J. picked up his lemonade and took a sip. “We’ll kiss in front of them on Monday so they think we got together after this.”

Cyrus blushed. The thought of kissing T.J. still made butterflies flutter in his stomach. And kissing T.J. made him float up into the sky and never want to come down.

A chuckle broke through his thoughts. 

T.J. was giving him that look, one of pure adoration. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he teased. 

“Maybe.”

The blonde laughed again. “I’ll kiss you later when I walk you home, okay?”

Cyrus felt his lips twitch. “Sounds like a plan.”

“For now,” T.J. picked up another slice of pizza. “We enjoy our free date.”

Cyrus couldn’t argue with that. 

……..

Hidden behind the prickly bush, Buffy’s arm was digging into Andi’s side and she struggled to move away but almost knocked Jonah off his feet.

“Do you think it’s working?” Marty asked, peeking through a tiny gap in the shrub.

“It looks like they’re having a good time,” Buffy stated. “I think that’s T.J.’s third slice. Is his stomach a black hole?!”

“Can we eat after?” Jonah asked. “Watching them eat is making me kinda hungry.”

“This better work, you guys,” Andi mumbled. “My wallet is seriously light right now. Bex keeps wondering if I’m having another ‘sequins problem’.”

Buffy flashed her a look. “Are you?”

“No! That was one time!”

“Okaaay.” 

“Yeah, I agree with Andi,” said Marty. “I’m using what would have been date money on them. And I’m not dating either of them!”

Andi watched as Cyrus and T.J. laughed on the picnic table, having a wonderful time. They looked really good together and the chemistry between them was off the charts. 

If they didn’t get together after all their efforts, what would it take?! How oblivious could those two get?! They were so into each other!

Andi really hoped it would be soon because she was out of thread and she really needed to buy more. 

……

On Monday, the four friends walked into school, planning another “Get Cyrus and T.J. together” scheme (which involved a trip to Adrenaline City and leaving them on a Ferris wheel) when Andi let out a squeal.

They all followed her gaze to see Cyrus and T.J. with their arms around each other, looking giddy and happy as can be.

And when Cyrus went up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to T.J.’s lips, they practically fell to the floor in joy.

Finally!

#andi mack #tyrus #tyrus fanfic

[cherylblossomfashionanaylsis]

1x04 Chapter Four: The Last Picture Show

Hello again! Before we get started, I wanted to give a shoutout to my lovely co-cheryl fashion bloggers: @cherylblossomstylerating​ and @theclosetofcherylblossom​! I love that we have 3 different insights into Cheryl and I really enjoy their posts <3 

Alright let’s dive in to episode four!! So this episode was fairly challenging to see details in as it is fairly dark for most parts of the episode. We barely even see Cheryl in a full outfit :(

During the opening scene, we only see Cheryl in the background so as far as I can tell she has on unknown earrings, a black choker, a black off the shoulder jumpsuit, a black bracelet, and a spider brooch (I believe the black one). No red!! Sheriff Keller is conducting interviews about Jason’s death so definitely connects to the lack of red. I wish we had gotten to see this outfit more, I love Cheryl in jumpsuits and this one is really nice.

Okaaay this outfit was really hard to figure out. Based on initial glances, I had kinda thought she was wearing the jumpsuit and added a jacket BUT that’s not the case. She is wearing a burgundy/red spider brooch and most likely the same black choker. I believe she is also wearing the pewter rose stud earrings she wore in 1x02.

She has a new jacket! This one is a burgundy leather moto/biker style jacket. I much prefer this one to the ribbed one and I wish she wore it more :( She has on a black top, unknown bottoms but presumably a skirt? It seems to finally be getting colder in Riverdale since everyone has on tights and jackets. She also has on patterned tights and possibly black ankle booties. She’s wearing a bracelet as well. Sorry this description is kinda vague but this scene was dark and she was mostly in the background. As for the outfit, I like the idea of it and she is only wearing red in the form of burgundy here. She tends to go dark when she is being extra scheme-y so it makes sense here. 

True red!! For school the next day, Cheryl dons a classic Cheryl look which includes large crystal stud earrings, a red pussybow tank blouse, a navy double button mini skirt, a red quilted crossbody with chain strap, a gold bracelet, and a crystal ring. 

Here’s a better look at the skirt and purse. We sadly never see her shoes but I could see her wearing her peep toe heels here or maybe a standard heel. This outfit is fairly preppy and consistent with Cheryl’s season 1 school style. She tends to wear more bright red at school and at events when she’s putting on her HBIC appearance in full fashion.

Here you can see the earrings and the ring better. The earrings are sort of ball shaped. I also love her hair up and sleek like this! It’s a good look and fits the outfit well. Very sassy just like she’s being in this scene. Her nails are also painted bright red which goes well.

Our last look! Sadly another dark, vague outfit. But, alas. Cheryl is wearing a cute burgundy long sleeve crop top with a twisted part at the bottom and a high neck. She wears this shirt a lot in season 1, in multiple colors as we’ll see later. I’m fond of it especially in the burgundy. She also has on her black ribbed leather jacket.

Here’s as much of the outfit as we see as she has a blanket on covering the rest but hey at least they’re being practical for a cold night at the Drive Ins! (Btw, I’m so sad it got closed down in the 4th episode, I would’ve loved to see a Grease-esque fun night at the drive ins and bughead dates, etc.) Anywaaaaays, I think this is an adorable outfit for a cozy movie night and she looks really cute.

In this picture, you can see her earrings which appear to be a crystal ear cuff style and she also has on her criss cross ring (lmao idk what it’s actually called). But, sadly these are all the outfits in this episode. It was filled with lots of black and burgundy which fits the moody Jughead vibe of this whole episode. Cheryl was fitting into a larger picture in this episode so she was dressed less to stand out and more to fit in than usual. But, that’s okay cause she looks good no matter what :)

Outfit Total: 4!

Brooch Count: 1 black spider and 1 red spider.

Favorite Outfit: Hmm, either the black jumpsuit or the vague outfit with the burgundy leather jacket.

#cheryl #cherylblossom #choni #cherylblossomstyle #riverdalestyle #riverdalefashion #riverdale #madelaine petsch

[scarlettlawyer]

Part 11 of my reaction/commentary to the Phantoms & Mirages Saga, the fanfic series by @renegadewangs

(Chasing Phantoms): Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

(Haunted Specters): Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

(Vanquishing Mirages): Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Vanquishing Mirages / Lifting Spirits: Part 10

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 1

At the very least, he could rest easy knowing that his first motorcycle lesson hadn’t been a complete disaster. The future looked promising.

ANY future looks promising when it has Motorcycle Simon in it

“Here, I brought you a sandwich.” “Is it chicken?”

Blackquill: [known bird lover, intense lover of birds pouring over bird documentaries in his spare time and cherishing Taka with all his heart]

The boy who would become the phantom, the moment he is presented with a sandwich: iS IT CHICKEN?

“But… People die when they are killed.”

ASDJHSDBKJS

A+ DIALOGUE THANK YOU I LOVE IT. GOOOSH I’M. SOMEBODY needs to compile a list of things this same person has said in this series. The above line. The courtroom jokes, the irony line… the “I’m aroace” line… The other things he said to intentionally turn Bobby against him post-phantomquill kissbait, throw in a bunch of other Lex lines too. The RANGE. THE SHEER RANGE. You could just do a list like that, show it to someone and be like “Yeeeaahh so ALL of these are essentially said by the same character in different stages of his life.”

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 2

Finally, there was a knock on the door and Lang led the way into the room. He looked irritable. He’d been giving off that air since before the surgery. Lex had a suspicion on what might be causing such irritation, but kept it to himself. Lang wouldn’t take his advice on matters like that anyway.

“Matters like that” I’M FGLKFGLKNGF

OKAY ALSO

I SOMEHOW MISREMEMBERED THIS AS BEING SOMETHING HE THINKS BACK BEFORE THE SURGERY BUT EITHER WAY IT’S JUST. GOLD.

The phantom – or the former phantom – Lex just sitting there doing his best to refrain from giving out romantic advice.

Someone younger than he’d expected. This man couldn’t be older than thirty- probably hadn’t even reached that age yet. […] this guy looked rather meek. He was lean; the sort of physique that made it seem like a strong gust of wind could blow him off his feet. His black hair was smoothed back with copious amounts of gel and his face bore overly kind features. A few sheets of paper and a notebook were clutched firmly under his right arm. Coupled with his neat black suit, dark blue tie and thick-rimmed glasses, he looked more like a door-to-door salesman than a therapist.

GEEEEE MEOWZY, GEEEE, SUCH DESCRIPTION, I WONDER IF HE’S AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER OR ANYTHING sdjnksdfknl.

Okay but back when I read this 1st time I was like. Well I seriously didn’t know WHY the hell this guy needed such a strong narrative focus on what he looked like. Like. “He’s the therapist. That’s all we need to know. He’s not important! Why do we care what he looks like! Why does it matter!” askjbsdkjnedskj just felt SO excessive just annoying that the narrative felt like it Cared so much about a random therapist character DFKDFKJ GOD I WAS A FOOL

AND ALSO UHHH

Like yes this fic post-bait was still promising and as superb as ever and had thrilled me with things like the music-listening thing BUT. I need you to understand that I was still very hurt over Fake Phantomquill and therefore, REALLY not in the mood for getting to know Sudden New Characters. The intense goodwill I’d built up for this series over three fics had been largely derailed at this point. I just… didn’t really care all that much about giving new characters a chance thanks to that new apathy. That, and the fact that this series genuinely felt like it was reaching the end at this point, with all of the Major Players already introduced. So how could any important character POSSIBLY show up now? Coupled with how Done I was after the phantomquill bait. SO YKNOW. Idiot that I am, I kind of breezed over the above paragraph a little impatiently without really taking anything in, like I read it but didn’t really ABSORB it or incorporate the physical description into how I pictured the character. I was just like “yeah ok he’s the therapist moving on? What’s next?” (BENNY I’M SO SORRY I WAS VERY MEAN). So yeah, my foolish logic: “series is almost over, all the important characters are introduced, therefore no character introduced at this point could possibly be important, therefore I don’t need to care about or pay attention to anyone new.”

…Like okay, I knew the story wanted me to see this new character as someone important and therefore pay attention to them, but I couldn’t understand why and therefore intentionally failed to pay much close attention almost out of spite.

But like. God. If I had actually bothered to take in anything about that physical description I would have actually NOTICED how handsome he is right from the start. Joke’s on me!

“[…] a person who’s supposed to have no emotions is incredibly interesting.”

[…]

Such an odd point of view was another thing that took Lex by surprise. All his life, people had called him a monster. A freak. A heartless robot or a demon. A Phantom. No one had ever considered his emotional state to be interesting. No one had ever considered it an honor to be sitting across from him. Who in their right mind would?

WHY WOULD YOU CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS

HELLO. SDKJNSFKJNSDKJ. ALSO THANK YOU SOMEONE ACTUALLY AGREES HOW INTERESTING THE LACK OF EMOTIONS THING IS.

But this is so funny it’s like the fic is takign aim at the fangirls. Me, a phantom fan: Hah… Yes… Who in their right mind would consider it an honour to be sitting across from him.. sdkjsdkjdsf

(Okay, that angle didn’t occur to me on 1st readthrough but now I’m just jokingly like “I feel so attacked” HAHAAH)

Most of the focus had been on Lex’s physical health and the way he was being treated, both on a medical level and on a personal level. Emotions could affect the body and Lex had to admit that recovery from his surgery was still going at a slow pace. 

OH MY GOOOOOD FUUUUUDGE TH. BENNY IS SIZING HIM UP HE’S ASKING THOSE KINDS OF QUESTIONS FOR A REASON. GOD DAAAMN IT BENNY… Knowing the way he is being treated medically, things like that, can make it just that little bit easier! To! Make an attempt on his life! I’M

TFW u do ur job as a therapist but also as an assassin simultaneously.

No one else stopped by his room for hours on end. Not until it was time for the guard shift to rotate and Bobby Fulbright came strolling inside. Over the past week, it’d become painfully obvious that the Phantom’s attempt to crush the man’s cheerful attitude towards him had failed. That Bobby was still as overbearing as ever, acting as if that little incident involving Simon Blackquill hadn’t happened.

Idiot spy underestimated the power and strength of just HOW MUCH Bobby cares about him.

“Hahaha, that’s just like him.” Bobby nudged the wrapper towards the bin with his foot. “And just so you know, he’s single.”

BOBBY NO. THAT IS HIS THERAPIST. THAT IS YOUR THERAPIST,

Lex made sure to shoot Bobby the most emotionless expression he could still bring his face to ease into. It was funny how the surgery had messed with even that much. “It isn’t too late for me to end your life, you know.”

SDJKSDFNKJSDFKLNSDLNKSDLKN this & him saying this is so funny SEND HELP

The mark of Shelly de Killer.

OH. OKAAAY. I’D FORGOTTEN THAT THE FIRST ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT TAKES PLACE ON THE SAME DAY. BENNY WASTES NO TIME AT ALL… And it makes sense I mean. He got the info he needed to go ahead, so why wait? Oh my god..

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 3

…It’s terrible how much I kind of enjoyed Lex’s sudden downturn; what essentially was the prelude to and then became a vomit scene just because This man used to be the Unshakeable Phantom! LOOK AT HIM NOW. >:D

Plus he starts off soooo arrogant and overconfident at the beginning of the chapter as well before Lang is just like. “Lol. Looks like you didn’t actually kill Shelly and he’s after you.” Making the rapid nosedive that follows even more… It feels kinda weird to say “amusing”, but… IDK MAN THERE’S JUST INHERENT NARRATIVE APPEAL IN THIS LEVEL OF WEAKNESS AND VULNERABILITY AND WHAT HAVE YOU ON DISPLAY after a bout of confidence no less, from this character with this history specifically. Any other character and I’d be appropriately squicked out/feeling bad. I CAN BE VERY MEAN TO MY FAVE.

Also, “prayers to the porcelain god” is actually SUCH a good euphemism. Somehow… If I ever get the chance… I want to see if I can work it into saying it in real-life at least once. I don’t see any such opportunity arising anytime soon, however. :P

“Just send him in, it’s not like the day can get any worse,” Lex grumbled, clambering back onto his bed.

>:D

Benny shows up and it’s just pure dramatic irony. Re-reading is suuuuch a bonus.

What if they were endangering Benny by having him here?

OH MY G

“You’re a Snapple guy?”

I’M, I LOST IT AT THIS

Maybe he just wanted to be the one raising the questions- to be in control of the conversation. …Yeah, that was probably it. That was how the human psyche worked.

I’M?

“Of course. I don’t know how other people manage with their android phones. Snapple’s always got the upper hand,” Benny remarked, not even bothering to take his eyes off the screen.

Lex: Right. Have fun with your planned obsolescence, sucker.

IF A REAL LIFE MAN ACTUALLY SAID THIS TO MY FACE.. I GOTTA TELL YA… The sheer level of aggravating this is. XD. I DON’T KNOW IF I’D BE ABLE TO HOLD MYSELF BACK FROM SAYING SOMETHING.

Me internally if an IRL man said this to me: Oh so you’re insufferable and I probably won’t like you very much at all.

SDKJSDNKJSDNKJ

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 4

Bro. Bro I was suspicious of that coffee, man. And then when Lex drains it all, I was like “MMMM somehow… that feels like a mistake he’s going to regret.”

“Could there be any kind of poison in it that interpol could fail to detect?”

But, I didn’t suspect Benny of wrongdoing. I was suspicious of the coffee, but not Benny. I figured that if the coffee had been tampered with, Benny was completely unaware of it. But then, I forgot about it and put it out of mind after that when nothing too dramatic happened immediately after he takes the coffee.

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 5

“It’s fine.” Lex was embarrassed to hear that he’d taken on a rather squeaky tone.

Embarrassed… Embarrassed… Embarrassed…!

Yeeeees. It’s like I’ve waited 3 full fics and then some to see this man FINALLY be embarrassed. Feels good.

…Well this chapter certainly gets intense after that. :[

Now this second vomit scene is actually quite appropriately upsetting to read. OOF.

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 6

Bro just imagining that slowed-down music really IS super eerie, damn.

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 7

“Bobby Fulbright. I was under the impression that you were no longer allowed to be here.”

Gooood he STILL goes for the full titles all the time when “orienting” to the conversation, like he didn’t need to use any name at all here. I’m telling you, 1. This is his character trait, Lex and Phantom alike, and 2. It’s so Franziskan sdkjsdnkjsd.

Bobby sighed. It was like everyone around him realized his care for the Phantom was unwarranted. He himself realized it too, but that didn’t change anything. “I know. I’m just an idiot like that.” “Acknowledgment is the first step to recovery. Now take the next step and get out.” With that, Lex made to slide the headphones back over his ears.

UM rUDE xDDD

While the concept of him being aromantic had been cast into doubt ever since the surgery, he didn’t mean to dig much further into it. Unless he was somehow miraculously saved from execution, his sexuality didn’t matter. He would die just as he’d always lived; alone. The concept didn’t quite stop him from appreciating Benny’s handsome features, though. Or the way Benny kept smiling as if he wasn’t looking at a murderer.

Ohooooh my. Here we are! Precisely what connects back strongly to a lot of the stuff I discussed in my previous post but I couldn’t quite fit it in.

So like. I could very much see what was going on here. Mhm. Yes I did. We are getting implied Lex/Benny. And, confession time, but I MIGHT have stumbled across a post that heavily implied Lex/Benny back before I had ANY inkling of who Benny was… Back before Lex was Lex. So it meant absolutely nothing to me at the time, it simply DEEPLY confused me in the sense of “You’d think I’ve read far enough into the series and yet WHY can’t I make heads or tails of this post?” But, I quickly put it out of mind and temporarily forgot about it and was able to continue reading the text “blind”, but when Benny actually showed up… and Lex is Lex now… And Bobby’s all “He’s SINGLE 😉” I narrowed my eyes all like. Oh. Oh… There’s a certain way this could go. But I still thought “Hey. Maybe nothing will happen and neither of them will develop feelings, maybe it’s just like, a fun side-idea the author personally likes but didn’t put directly into the story- ohhhh and here it is hints on Lex’s side building up in the story. WELL THEN.”

It just felt like…

The author: [shipteases phantomquill, phantom/Athena (YES I KNOW THAT WAS A JOKE AND I AM INCLUDING IT ONLY AS A JOKE THAT WILL LENGTHEN THIS LIST), spyshipping, and even Freudian Phantombright (I AM ALSO INCLUDING THIS LAST ONE ONLY AS A JOKE)]

The author, after doing all of this: [whips out/ushers in their OC at the last minute to pair up with him]

Me:

DFJKSDLKSDKL

The above is a retooled version of a message I sent to my friend at the time – I hope the summary comes across as more of a comically condensed expression of frustration-at-the-time and not mean-spirited (mean-spirited is not what I want to be, I just exaggerate for comical effect is all, and I didn’t expect I’d be telling my feelings to the author directly ahhah..) But as already established? I was quite bitter over the now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t phantomquill, and so I was not particularly impressed at the time as a result… xDDD

I also just love how he, of all characters, seems to be the “launcher of a thousand ships” here… LOL

But of course, Benny is not technically an OC, is he? :P You can argue he’s merely an interpretation of a canon character from Dual Destinies – the courtroom sniper. Dskjdsjknsd

At the time it might have felt “ushered in”, but in reality, Benny has that connection to a “canon” character – the courtroom sniper – the further connection to ace attorney canon through being Shelly’s son, AAAND has already been very much intertwined in this series through “off-screen” references. He really is quite heavily grounded in the fic’s lore. And in Ace Attorney lore. Very, very clever and well-done. …Of course, I didn’t know any of this until the Reveal, so I remained unimpressed until then. Now post-reveal is a different story, and I came to intensely appreciate not only Benny as a character but also just how awesome the dynamic between Benny and Lex really is.

Shipping aside, you have the aroace business… I have actually previously come across a post on your blog where you stated you kinda felt bad for not keeping Lex aroace. I feel like this can easily get pretty thorny, and I want to kind of, as I stated in a previous post, analyse the text as an independent entity here – how I would judge/react to the text without any knowledge of or contact with the author or the context it was crafted in. Indeed, at the time of reading Lifting Spirits I didn’t have a clue what you may personally be or whether you were personally aro/ace or not and couldn’t make any assumptions either way.

There’s, I guess, two main ways to look at this… the phantom was effectively aroace and there was never any evidence suggesting otherwise. But with blocked emotions removed, it turns out the man is not aroace. You can treat “the phantom” and “Lex” as two separate entities in this regard.

But the phantom didn’t completely lack emotions. If Lex is not aroace… It stands to reason that EVEN IF there never was any evidence to suggest the phantom was anything but aroace, there was still the potential for small, limited amounts of evidence that he wasn’t to occur, even if such a thing did not happen to occur when he was the phantom. Which would make the phantom technically not aroace(?) but he simply never realised that. Hmm.

If there were a blanket consistency – if the phantom had experienced an extremely limited and probably outright warped sense of attraction or something like that – or if Lex was also aroace – then there wouldn’t be any “issue”. But as it is, it’s very easy to derive Unfortunate Implications from how it is set up, wherein the Emotionless Killer is aroace, but then he gets to experience proper emotions and becomes a “real person” who basically gets redeemed as that new person and all of a sudden… Only after becoming a “real” and “proper” human being he experiences attraction. It’s all too easy to feel like perhaps the message is that attraction is an integral part of the human experience – EVERYONE’S human experience.

And the flip that happens between the phantom and Lex in this realm further drove home what I perceived to be the massive distinction being made between the two and helped fuel much of my feelings surrounding what I discussed in the previous post. About how perhaps “the phantom” was being thrown under the bus to set up Lex as the good and better alternative. By treating them as two separate people, the connection is not TOO far away to feel as if the aroace aspect is attached to the phantom as part of what gets “thrown under the bus”, inherently attached to a villain seeing as it does not get carried over, inherently attached to emotionlessness – something necessary to be “cast aside” in order to fully complete a transition into a redeemable and “complete” human being.

I do know that none of this was your intent, and I sensed at the time of reading that it was not the author’s active intent as well, but not having enough background context at the time, I couldn’t entirely dismiss the possibility that perhaps it was a possible unintended predisposition bleeding through – nothing malicious in the least, mind you. But perhaps a subconscious assumption that every human being feels attraction and… idk. I wanted to believe the best of the work and the author but it was just, at the very least, an unintended implication that I could not entirely ignore. Being ace myself, it kinda stung, although I did keep that to a minimum until I could actually have more context.

I’m glad for being able to have access to additional context so that I can enjoy the work as it is to the best extent – if, for example, I did not have access to any information or additional context whatsoever about the author and the background under which the work was crafted in, I wouldn’t have been able to entirely shake the discomfort and it’s something small that would have continued to bug me long after I’d finished reading, if only for the fact that I would never have been able to know for sure if the writer was actually dismissing something like asexuality or not.

And Conflicted Thoughts/Feelings once again because, if we step back for a moment and look at this particular narrative thread as it exists in Lifting Spirits and its conclusion as a whole, I AM happy for Lex, it’s great that he gets to have a love interest, it’s a great ship, and the concept of the former phantom becoming attracted to someone and getting a crush is so so great…

What it ultimately comes down to, is that even if you can read Unfortunate Implications into the text regarding the aroace business, any such implications were not your intent. I much prefer reading a text in the most charitable way possible to enjoy it to the fullest possible extent, so that’s what I’ve ultimately done, given additional background info.

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 8

The complete role reversal of this chapter is so good… For months and months prior to ever beginning to read this series, I’d actually been working on a fanfic of my own, albeit for a different fandom. It also centres around inverted character dynamics and such as the central running theme to the extent that it’s even alluded to in the title… But this… The role reversal or transformation that Lifting Spirits centres around is so… It does it so damn well. Kind of makes me want to hold myself and my own fanfiction to a higher standard.

I had perhaps been a little bit suspicious of Benny prior to this chapter, but not much… And the end of the previous chapter had me VERY much like “OK… SOMETHING’S WRONG HERE… SOMETHING’S WRONG! WHAT IS THIS GUY’S DEAL?!” BUT omg this reveal

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 9

He’s the fourth heir to the lineage of De Killer, which means spilling blood is in his blood. It’s a shame, really, that he can’t stand the sight of it.

This chapter description is just so poetic. It’s like, the chapter description is not really separate from the fic itself – it’s just as artistically intertwined with the text. Absolutely GORGEOUS chapter description.

Oughhhhh Benny’s backstory and just. His whole character and the internal conflicts that he has and EVERYTHING is just so damn compelling WOW!

The glimpses into Benny’s past and home life are such a fascinating look into how vastly different his frame of references are… How very unique his perspective and positioning in the world is.

The Phantom… Benjamin had heard of this man, of course. An international spy. One who was so wanted that his father had been hired by at least five clients.

F-FIVE CLIENTS?! AT LEAST? LEGEND.

Okay this is quite interesting to think about too because I always figured that Shelly would only ever take on one client and have one target at a time, so that he could devote his full attention to the task at hand and uphold his end of the contract – his client has faith in him to do a job and to do a job well, so I figured a single-handed focus would be part of that. Under normal circumstances, this would present no issue. Why would it? Shelly’s very good at his job and tracking down an assigned individual target wouldn’t be too difficult. My impression is that a job would generally take maybe 2-3 weeks from the time of meeting with the client and the deed getting done, unless it’s exceptionally easy and the person in question gets taken out within the week.

But obviously the phantom presents a clear problem to that operational method. Shelly’s left with a target he has little to no leads on, no physical description, no name beyond the title, who could be anywhere and anyone. Job like that’s gonna take a little bit longer than three weeks. But Shelly is nothing if not a professional, and he’s more than happy to honour his client’s wishes if they want this guy dead, and he’s certainly not gonna give up or back down from the request…! I wonder if Shelly was in the habit of taking on multiple clients at the time or if he was forced to break from his standard method of operation, cause if he has no leads he has to wait until one turns up/keep searching indefinitely. And it kinda puts a huge damper on business to not accept any new clients for years on end. Maaaaan not being able to take the phantom out quickly & efficiently must’ve bugged the HELL out of him too. He’s made a commitment to his client, his (first) client is trusting him to take this guy out, and YEARS pass and STILL it hasn’t been done. Wonder what kind of dynamic that would have caused between Shelly and the first client.

I have no real doubt that Shelly actually had enough money to put business on hold for a few years if that’s what it meant to track down the phantom, if he wanted to. But it’s just not practical if he genuinely has 0 leads to go on for months on end, it makes more sense to be doing stuff in the meantime. PLUS, part of it would also be to ensure that the de Killer name does not fall into disuse and remains prominent in the minds of the public. To disappear for years only for calling cards to start showing up again… It just wouldn’t look particularly good for The Brand I suppose? The general public wouldn’t know the reason for the silence.

There’s not only that, but he accepts requests from multiple clients for the same target, hugely increasing his payout for a single job. I would have thought it’s possible that were someone to make a request that’s already been made, Shelly might be like “Ah, actually, you can’t select this particular individual”. And if years have passed with no success it begins to raise questions about the “ethics” of accepting further requests for the same person if part of the payment is being made in advance, which I’m sure it is. But then again – I’m sure there was no doubt in Shelly’s mind that he’d actually get him in the end. The length of time that passed didn’t matter. The job would be done, and he was never going to give up. He had multiple clients depending on him, after all.

I guess every time he got another Phantom request he’d sigh and internally be like “ADD THIS CLIENT TO THE LIST I SUPPOSE…”

Client: I want you to take out the phantom

Shelly, internally: Get in line

Dsjsdjh

Really though I’m very sure that the phantom’s difficulty to track down would have irked Shelly to no end. Not that he would necessarily let such sentiments show externally.

And while I’m speaking about this, I guess I will also address Benny being his son here as well. My reaction REALLY was “HIS FATHER??? HIS FATHER????”

I’ve never played DGS and I know there’s de Killer stuff going on in those game(s) and I don’t know if any light is shed in that series on how the lineage works – hm! It’s interesting to think about. One of the theories I’ve seen proposed is that the new de Killer establishes themselves as such by successfully taking out the previous de Killer – no familial relation. That has logistical issues of its own however but it was kind of the default idea that I’d gone with as I hadn’t really seen any others discussed.

Shelly’s unique job and his intense dedication to said job makes it very VERY hard for me to picture him not only establishing a relationship with someone but also fathering a child with someone… It’s quite hard for me to picture how it would work. How it would look in practice. And of course, in the Benny flashbacks, there is no mention of a mother. So I was a little bit like ????? on that front. And then you get the reveal practically at the VERY end of the fic that Benny is adopted, which makes plenty of sense. It is hard for me to picture Shelly as a father but I CAN see him adopting, caring for and raising an adopted child. A child that is to continue the proud de Killer heritage.

THE FACT THAT SOMEONE GOT MISTAKENLY SHOT BECAUSE THEY WERE ASSUMED TO BE THE PHANTOM BUT WEREN’T… OOF. Hope Shelly didn’t prematurely celebrate on that one. He might’ve already enlisted three clients wanting the phantom gone by that point and thought that he could FINALLY collect the rest of whatever money they owed him from them – that he could FINALLY reassure them that the guy was finally flippin’ DEAD. Perhaps only for the phantom to show up AGAIN some time later. (Shelly doing refunds? Dsjksdkj). Ok but on a serious note – I know he would’ve probably known it was not the phantom either immediately after/soon after the guy was shot. There’s things like No Mask and whatnot and probably the aftermath would have made it obvious it was the wrong person without the phantom needing to show up on Shelly’s radar once again. But OOF.

In March, a man had come to see Ben ‘Benny’ Volent, seeking counseling. A man who bore the name of Bobby Fulbright.

WHEN THIS REALISATION HIT ME… OH MY GOD? OH MY GOD? BOBBY FULBRIGHT HAD BEEN UNLOADING THE TRAUMA OF WHAT HE SAW… ONTO THE SON OF THE VICTIM! I CANNOT. THAT IS… NOT GOOD. Being so close to the murder victim can compromise the therapist’s ability to assist the patient at hand, so… conflict of interest! Benny had to sit there and listen to recounts that would have deepened his OWN pain. Bro I am SO sorry. WHAT a punch this was.

Agent Lang had mentioned a move to the federal prison right in front of Benny.

NO JOKE but back when that scene originally occurred I was just like “UMM should they REALLY be discussing this while the therapist is there?” Because I had found Benny to be a LITTLE bit potentially suspicious and. Hmm!

OKAY THE FUNNIEST PART – OR RATHER – THE MOST WACK PART OF THIS ENTIRE SITUATION IS JUST HOW MANY LEVELS OF “CROSSES THE LINE TWICE” IT IS.

Like. The realisations started pouring in for me, one after the other. First it was like “um, Benny counselling Bobby considering the circumstances is a conflict of interest that can potentially compromise his ability to remain objective and properly assist Bobby’s recovery”. THEN, hilariously enough, I was like “UM, IT IS HIGHLY UNPROFESSIONAL FOR BENNY TO ACT AS LEX’S THERAPIST – EXTREME CONFLICT OF INTEREST SEEING AS THE PHANTOM KILLED BENNY’S FATHER AND YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED PERSONAL BIASES TO GET IN THE WAY WITH HOW YOU SEE THE PATIENT”. This was coupled with how… awkward I found it earlier on for Bobby to even suggest, however jokingly, to Lex that Benny was single – how iffy it was for Lex to have developed feelings for Benny (cause if you got feelings for ur therapist that’s bad news for the therapy and Lex even seems to know this) or the possibility that perhaps it was on some level reciprocated, which would be highly unprofessional and further detrimental to the therapist-patient relationship.

BUT THEN I REALISED THIS WAS ALL MOOT AND COMPLETELY BLOWN OUT OF THE WATER ALL BY:

BENNY WAS TRYING TO KILL LEX THE WHOLE TIME ANYWAY.

So LITERALLY WHO CARES about conflict of interest or “professional conduct” here, I’M PRETTY SURE IT IS NOT IN THE LINE OF A THERAPIST’S WORK TO BE ACTIVELY TRYING TO KILL YOUR PATIENT.

And all I could do was laugh. This is the kind of crosses-the-line-twice funny, there’s just SUCH a cluster of professional breaches going on that it is OFF THE CHARTS and loops back around to being hilarious. You can’t even criticise ANYTHING specific about Benny’s conduct, there’s no point, because it is so BLATANTLY and obviously out of line, professionally and legally speaking, in its ENTIRETY. And then you realise his credentials were faked to begin with too, even though he’s genuinely studied the profession and is good at what he does. He’s walking around with faked qualifications ANYWAY.

Lex and Benny’s patient-therapist dynamic was stuffed to HIGH hell, inherently, far before it ever began. It was already compromised beyond belief. THE GUY’S QUALIFICATIONS AREN’T EVEN 100% LEGIT… >failed step one. It is SO wild and subsequently funny as a result. Benny got built up as such a good therapist too, and don’t get me wrong, he does seem to actually be good at what he does as I said. But then you go ahead and reveal all of this about him and it’s sooo… omg

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 10

Simon was about to turn away when he thought he saw it. Just for a fraction of a second. Were Alexander’s lips about to quirk into a victorious smirk? …No, that was ridiculous.

OOOHH MY GOOOOOD I HAD TOTALLY FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS I SWEAR TO GOD………… I swear to god. Acting skills WAY too strong. He’s still got it. This man is way too powerful/skilled for his own good I swear to god.

Yes, he successfully got Benny to leave and he got out of the ordeal of being held at gunpoint unscathed. But he still had been terrified when going through that. Regardless of how things turned out it makes sense for Lex to be in shock and still be working out some of that fear. Because he HAD been genuinely terrified. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he is genuinely a little in shock during this scene but oh my god.. Because it makes sense for him to still be jittery and then I just. LEX. KINDA HATE THAT I MAYBE GOT A LITTLE WORRIED BECAUSE STILL BEING SHAKEN MAKES SENSE BUT ALSO CONFUSED AT THE EXTENT. On first and second readthrough.

Can’t really say too much else about this chapter right now it’s just sooo intense and riveting gosh.

For a split second, it seemed like Fulbright was so overcome with emotion he might try to pull Alexander into a hug as well. Luckily, Lang cleared his throat in such a loud manner that it was obvious he did so on purpose.

LANG HOW COULD YOU. “LUCKILY” MY FOOT.

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 11

His license was most likely a fake. Would any report compiled by him be worth a damn? And to think, Bobby Fulbright had spoken so highly of him.

WAIT I WAS ONLY JUST SAYING THIS EARLIER SDKSDKNS

Hey. I obviously knew this Mirage scene was coming this time around and yet it managed to somehow sneak up on me anyway. When I got up to it and read through it I just outright started crying. I did not cry on the first readthrough, I was completely dry-eyed. I GOT SUPER ATTACHED TO AND MORE EMOTIONAL OVER MIRAGE ON MY SECOND READTHROUGH OF THIS SERIES FOR A REASON.

Oh, something else that struck me on first readthrough about this scene was… The phantom always EASILY felt to me the far more “bad” person compared to Mirage. When compared to the phantom, Mirage always felt… well, it was easy for me to forget that she’s also done terrible things, that she’s also a criminal. She naturally just seemed like the waay better person – with SOME amount of a moral compass. So it was odd to suddenly have her being in the same room as Lex, no longer being contrasted against the phantom, but contrasted against Lex instead… Lex seems to actually have a much more proper moral compass compared to her now. He’s actually filled with remorse and regrets.

Mirage… still chose to kill people. She’s still herself, and that self is someone who didn’t have a bone sliver preventing her from understanding how much of a powerful impact death can have. It was odd… Lex knows internally how bad killing people is now. Mirage most likely still doesn’t really know… not only that, but… he would know that she doesn’t? I don’t know how to explain what I’m getting at here, but yeah.

Also:

“Why did you ask to see me?” he found himself asking. “…Why do you care?” She giggled, the sound of it rather strained. “Because we’re friends, you idiot.” “We’re not…-”

Me:

“You’d better pray the Phantom’s retrial leads to the death penalty. I’m being released next year, but I wouldn’t mind being tossed right back in here if it means I got to strangle Metis’s killer with these two hands.”

…N-NEXT YEAR?! BUT THAT’S… SO SOON… SOONER THAN I… THOUGHT… I FIGURED SHE HAD LIKE… MAYBE ANOTHER TWO YEARS LEFT… I DIDN’T REMEMBER HER SAYING IT’S NEXT YEAR.

[Thinks about this line and then Tracking Ghosts]

Oh my god… Can it PLEASE at least be the second half of the year I’m dying here… Like I KNEW she had to be released from prison eventually and. Yeah. I JUST THOUGHT WE HAD MORE TIME.

You know what’s funny? This line 100% didn’t faze me on first readthrough. Ahahaha. Why should it have? “You’d better pray the Phantom’s retrial leads to the death penalty” was, after all, my own train of thought at the time… HDHDFH. I was just kinda [nods] “at least someone around here’s got the right idea.” …AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

You completely missed me on the first go, but second time’s a charm. Ya got me. Ya got me with this line this time around. I am worried. :’)

#long post

[rose-tico]

4, 11, 15 💗

answering my soft wlw asks:

4. do you have a crush at the moment? 

yes, i do! she’s a year older than me, has brown hair, and is interested in films. in particular, lighting, i think. she’s gorgeous, funny, has the best fashion sense, and is into star wars! sigh…she’s perfect. i’m going to be put more about her under the cut and also answer the other 2 questions under the cut too, if that’s okay? 

we’ve had one women’s studies class together and we also worked on a student web series project together, but i ended up having to quit because i was uncomfortable with the kiss scenes. because guess what? ya girl has never had her first kiss! (lol, you know what they say about queer people and us not having experienced any of the typical high school love stuff until our twenties, resulting in us being incredibly touch-starved and emotionally repressed. well, it’s very true). anyway, i didn’t want to give up my first kiss in a fake web series. i wanted my first kiss to be real and with someone i liked. and the actor i was supposed to kiss on the project also happened to be a girl. and i was like nope! i’m not remotely ready for this! at this point, i hadn’t really accepted my sexuality yet and very much still had a lot of internalized homophobia (which i still do, but that’s another story). but yeah, i was like…if i kiss a girl…what if something awakens in me? yikes. nope! big swerve. anywho, my crush offered to give me rides in her car in between set changes, for lunch break, and back to my apartment since i myself didn’t have a car. while in the car, i told her about my kiss dilemma and 2 things happened: (1) she was very surprised i hadn’t had my first kiss yet and said it was because i was gorgeous and i definitely recalled rolling my eyes and blushing really hard, and (2) she asked me if i was into girls at all…and i think it’s b/c she thought i had a problem with kissing a girl. (but i’m foolishly going to believe it’s b/c she…is also into girls and she wanted to know idk idk lol). yah, so an awkward silence followed and i didn’t want to lie, but i also didn’t want to say the truth and i also was sort of confused about everything…so i just shrugged and said ‘i’m questioning…’ and ya’ll when i say i’m not exaggerating when i say i had the biggest Gay Panic™️ when she looked over at me with a raised eyebrow and gave me the flirtiest grin while she had one arm on the wheel and wind blowing in her face from the window and said, ‘oh okaaaaaay. okaaay i see ;).” i still think about that one moment to this day. it was like a screenshot out of some gay ass americana roadtrip movie lol. but yeah. we haven’t talked or seen each other since i left the project, so a few months now. i’m pretty sure she’s annoyed with me b/c the production probably had to reshoot the scenes i had already filmed. which alas. anyway, i’m afraid to follow her on social media! but it’s not on private so i check it from time to time b/c /bi/ and i beat myself up to this day about not having asked her back whether she was into girls too. now for all i know, she’s straight as a pole! sigh. 

11. hugs or kisses? 

honestly, if i got either from a girl, a boy, anyone, i’d probably cry lol. i’m that touch starved. i just want some tenderness and love and kindness in my life. 

15. what’s the best thing about liking girls?

everything. i’ve always had deeper connections with girls. i’ve always felt more comfortable around them. i’ve always pined after them, though i never realized that my wanting to hangout with girls all the time, my tendency to get jealous over them hanging out with other people, and looking at photos of them for hours indicated that i was definitely…not straight. yeah, i embody that useless dumbass bisexual stereotype. and what about it? 

anyways, girls are beautiful, amazing, smart and lovely, and i’m hopeless. 

#me #words #asks #anon

[shreyamistry]

okaaay, i'm finally sending in these requests. like last time, i'd love if all the MC's used they/them pronouns! "don't act innocent, you had me pinned underneath you 5 minutes ago," for tille x mc (idk if this one would be technically be nsfw, and i know you say in ur rules no they/them peeps in a nsfw fic unless you specify what they have, but mc would be afab!). "i will love you forever, and when 'forever' ends, i'll love you some more," for annabelle x mc (bc i LOVE the way u write them!)

Pairing: Annabelle x MC

Prompt: “I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: A rewrite of the diamond scene with MC’s LI after the duel. Hannah goes to visit Annabelle after the duel to make sure she was already. Once there the pair worry over their future, and Hannah doesn’t know if they can handle everything anymore.

Song: A Thousand Years by Christina Perri

A/N: So this was heavily based on the song A Thousand Years because it came on shuffle while I was writing and it seemed perfect for the pairing/prompt! So you will see an integration of the lyrics within the work, I hope that’s okay Kylie! I heavily encourage you to listen to the song while reading, I think it ties it together beautifully, but either way! (also made me really want to watch twilight saga again, their soundtracks snapped and 13 y/o nate adored twilight) Sorry if it’s weirdly formatted on moblie, I designed it to look formatted correctly on browser but ! tumblr sucks lmao. 

Tagging: @pixieferry

Thanks for reading! I hope you like it!

“Darling, don’t be afraid.”

Annabelle clutches Hannah’s hands in her own. Tears pool on the edges of their lashes as they look into her warming gaze. She squeezes their hand tighter within her own, tears threatening to break her water lines. Hannah pulls their hand away to wipe the back of it against their cheek, drying the tears that have fallen.

“I promise you, Hannah.” Annabelle sniffles with her words.

“Come lay down,” Hannah whispers as they help Annabelle limp back towards the bed. They help her settle down into the bed, clutching her hand as she winces in pain from her gunshot wound. Hannah draws around the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers crawling underneath up against Annabelle. They tuck their face into the crook of her neck, her arms falling around their waist. “I’m afraid, Annabelle.”

She draws in a breath looking over at Hannah. “Nothing will keep me from you.”

“You simply can’t promise that,” Hannah replies, a lingering silence fall between them.

Annabelle runs her hand soothingly up and down Hannah’s arm, trying to convey comfort to them that they didn’t feel. She leans her head further to the side, pressing her cheek to the top of Hannah’s head. Her hands comb through the end strands of Hannah’s hair, pressing closer to them.

“You can’t promise that,” Hannah repeats it again, and they both don’t know who they’re trying to convince, themselves or Annabelle. Annabelle looks over at the hollow empty look in their eyes, their face heavy with sorrow, sleep deprivation, and life. She can’t help but notice how drained Hannah looked, how much he drained from them. It made Annabelle’s heartburn with anger.

“I can and I will.” Annabelle musters the strength to sound as confident as she could. “No one will ever keep you away from me. You’re one step closer to me and I won’t back down now.” Hannah brings their hand to her cheek, brushing their fingers against her face drying the tears that built on her skin. Hannah felt like they died every day they were apart from Annabelle, ever since the Duke announced their marriage without their consent and their grandmother stood silently beside them. “I won’t lose you.”

Everyday… they thought to themselves. Every day they died over and over again. Waking up to be in the nightmare of being engaged to the vilest man in England, it burdened their heart so deeply. Mr. Chambers offered them everything they needed and more, and they couldn’t believe they didn’t get the chance to embrace that.

“Every breath and every hour Hannah. I have been brought closer to you.” Annabelle falls silent trying to find the words buried in her brain. The feelings she’s repressed and the anger and anxiety, it built in her and spread over her inside filling her lungs to the point she felt she couldn’t breathe sometimes. She knew her heart and lungs could bud and breed flowers, but how it felt they did. She nearly expected a sunflower to sprout out of her mouth. Every moment she wasn’t with Hannah, she felt herself withering away, knowing the torment they felt alone with the Duke. She wished deeply she could be with them all the time, she’d even pretend to be Briar if it at least let them be together all the time. “Time doesn’t exist when I’m with you.”

“How do you sound so sure of us?” They whisper.

“Because I have you. I will love you forever, and when ‘forever’ ends, I will love you some more.” She falls silent forcing her eyes closed listening to the subtle hum of Hannah’s breath on their lips. She couldn’t possibly keep them open any longer, but she couldn’t fell asleep on them. “Hannah…”

“Oh Miss. Annabelle Parsons you say the loveliest things to me…I almost believe…”

Sleep hits her mid-sentence, the words leveling in her ears as the sandman encases her in a fit of sleep.

Annabelle pries her eyes open, the dark of the night streaming in through the window. The light from the moon gave her little to look at and see in the darkness, but she found the other side of the bed empty, the imprint of Hannah’s existence a bleak mess of sheets. She reaches out despite knowing their absence, praying she’ll find them just by reaching for them.

Her hand glides across a thick piece of paper, that crinkled under her touch. She quickly snatched it into her arms getting a glance of the writing told her it was Hannah’s as she brought it to her chest holding it tightly to her heart. Hannah… how could I have fallen asleep on you? She frowns heavily before releasing the letter holding it at arm’s length to get a glimpse at it, catching it at the right light.

“My love,

I must return to Edgewater. I waited longer than I should to leave hoping you might awake and see me off. Mr. Sinclaire was adamant that you would not be awaking with how exhausted you were from the drawl and the recovery, still I could not press forward without you. Bless his heart, but I wish he wasn’t right, I spite him for being right in this instant.”

Annabelle chuckles brightly to herself, “Oh, Hannah.” She reads again.

“I believe you. If there is anyone to keep us together, it shall be you. With your strength I will fight more, I won’t give up. We are one step closer than we were before despite the loss of the drawl between both of you. He cheated and misguided us. It will be added to his crimes, among being arrogant and selfish. Enough ill speak of him.

Time stands still when we’re together. I will be brave this time, I will not let anything take away from us or our love, it is eternal. I feel I have loved you for a thousand years and I will love you for a thousand more. He will not take me away from you and I will not allow anyone else to take me away from you. I will fight until my dying breath to be with you. I have died every day waiting to be with you. I wish you the best until I may see you again, my love, my one, my only. I will break out of Edgewater every night if I must no amount of space or time will keep us apart. I plan to return tomorrow night if my wishes align, please wait for me.

Yours, and yours alone,

Hannah, they of Edgewater.”

Annabelle places the letter on her heart again tears in her eyes, knowing they weren’t there and couldn’t hear her, she still whispered the words to herself again picturing Hannah in the bed beside her. “I will love you forever, and when ‘forever’ ends, I will love you some more.”

#annabelle parsons #annabelle x mc #playchoices #desire and decorum #d&d #choices desire and decorum #mc x annabelle #my writing #request #prompt #kylie jenner? no the better kylie #i will love you forever and when 'forever' ends i will you some more #this made me soft so i really hope you like it #im not one to typically do letters/journals in fics since my emma one didn't go well but i thought it worked so nicely here #anyways let me know what you think! #the butterfly gif is to express like freedom and it looks pretty and made sense to me sorry if it doesnt to anyone else alfksjaflkj

[wearethegalacticsystem]

Its okaaay. Yeah but boredom sucks!!! Idk how neurotypical people deal with it my adhd riddled brain is just like oh bored? Okay die and I’m like PLEASE NO! I don’t know what to do Colby AAAA

Aaaaaa- please do not die from boredom- i dunno what to do either m sorryyyy, but I get it at least-

#colby comments #💌.txt

[sarohara]

You both like friends.

Stranger: M

You: Heyo

You: sup

Stranger: Sup

You: what's ur name?

Stranger: Troy u

You: Hey Troy

You: Im Sarah

Stranger: Cool

You: yea

You: wyd now?

Stranger: Nothing u

You: I'm listening to a such amazing song rn and those moments I stop and i use to think " it was worth it to be alive to listen to this incredible masterpiece"...

Stranger: Coool

You: Ooh ahah

You: Im sorry, im a types one

Stranger: How old ru

You: Im 16, wbu?

Stranger: 17

Stranger: I'm guessing ur bored?

You: Yea for sure

You: Everyone's bored on omegle bro

Stranger: Lmao fr

Stranger: U tryna play t or d

You: well, sounds good

Stranger: T or d

You: T

Stranger: Where are u from?

You: Im from Brazil

You: t or d?

Stranger: Cool

Stranger: T

You: Where r u from? ahahahah

Stranger: I'm from the US

Stranger: T or d

You: oh gotcha

You: T

Stranger: Do u have a bf

You: intriguing question ahahha

You: Yea, kinda

Stranger: Wdym kinda?

You: Kinda is kinda

You: T or d?

Stranger: T

You: r u looking for someone over here? that's the worst way to get, trust me ahaha

Stranger: Nah I'm just curious lol

You: Oh okaaay

Stranger: T or d

You: T

Stranger: Explain how u kinda have a bf

Stranger: Bc last time I checked he either is or isnt

You: AHAHAHA well, we don't nothing like certain yet but we have each other u know..so it's someone that i care about and it's reciprocal

Stranger: So ur waiting for him to ask u out or something

You: Hell no ahaha we just can't be together rn for some reasons..

Stranger: Religion or age

You: What

You: No religion...

Stranger: Reasons for not being together

You: Ohhhh

You: Nooo, none of this

Stranger: Then why not just date him?

Stranger: If u think he's really urs just take it

You: Yea, ikr but he moved to another state so we cant compromise u know...

You: I mean, we can't rn

You: It's complicated

Stranger: Oof those types are hard

Stranger: Cuz u never know if he's talking to another girl

You: Nah nah it's just bc there's nothing certain in our lifes so we don't wanna to hurt our feelings..idk

You: want to*

Stranger: Yea so u like him that much

Stranger: Why is he so different from other guys

You: idk he's basically my soulmate aahaha

Stranger: Uh oh

Stranger: Ur building feelings for him

Stranger: And it's only one sided

You: Wdym one sided?

Stranger: How do u know he's feeling the same thing?

You: and im not building, im learning to deal with them

You: Because he told me

Stranger: And he's also 16?

You: Because i also know him. we're like best friends.

You: No he's 17

Stranger: Do u know who u sound like?

You: Pls tell me

Stranger: Like me lol

You: ahhahahaha what

You: How?

Stranger: Just switch the gender

You: Oh damn, really?

You: ahhaha that's sad right

Stranger: Yea

You: Tell me more.

Stranger: I used to love her thought she was my soulmate

Stranger: Then the next thing u know she's with another guy

You: Oh damn, why...?

Stranger: Idk cuz if we lived to far from each other

Stranger: It*

You: Oh gotcha

You: Life sucks right?

Stranger: Lesson is never be in a relationship or like someone more than the other person

You: It's not true

Stranger: Cuz it hurts no like u never felt before when they are gone

You: Oh man, i feel u.

Stranger: Sure

Stranger: How many relationship have you been in

You: Only 2

You: wbu?

Stranger: 7 and I'm done lol

You: Uuuu what

You: Wth ahahhaha

You: How is it possible?

Stranger: It's a same dumbass story

Stranger: I just keep believing it will different

You: Man, I don't fall in love with people that fast.. ahahahhaha

Stranger: Oh it's people I've known for years

Stranger: The least for me is 1 yrs to even talk to her

You: Ooooh

You: Since ur 10 then

You: ahah jk

Stranger: Nah this started when I was 13

You: Oh wow, my first one i was 13 as well

Stranger: First one hurts the most

You: Ummm, i don't think so..i mean, in my case.. but i agree..when u love that person that much

You: I'm friends with my first one until today so

Stranger: U sound like u know what it getting into

You: I would say sometimes

Stranger: Just remember people will accept the love they think they deserve

You: Oh I've watched this movie ahaha

Stranger: Keep ur standards high cuz if a guy doesn't meet it there is always one that will

Stranger: Its lowkey true tho

Stranger: Make him treat u like a princess always

You: Aw, that was like cute...

You: And ur right.

Stranger: But on ur side never take home for granted

Stranger: Him*

You: Never. neither him or anyone else.

Stranger: That's good

Stranger: The guy must be lucky to have u

You: Oh, U should tell him then ahah

You: jk jk

Stranger: It's not everyday u meet someone nice and knows a value of a real woman

You: Oh, i really appreciate that

You: Ur really nice as well

You: I hope u know that :)

Stranger: Someday I wish I met someone like u

Stranger: There gotta be more than of u out of 7 billion

You: Aw, u'll find someone even better than me, trust me.

Stranger: Haha sounds like heaven

You: Oh ahahaha im feeling so flattered rn

Stranger: But keep working o urself too

Stranger: On*

You: Yea, always

Stranger: Bc u are flattering lol

You: ahahahah

Stranger: So ur really not from Brazil or are u?

You: Actually i am. ahahha

You: Im 100% brazilian ahah

Stranger: Oh wow does Brazilians have Instagram

You: Ahahahhaha brazilians usually have instagram, yea

Stranger: Cool so what's urs

You: ahahah nice way to ask hug

You: huh*

You: @sarahcvlm

You: what's urs?

Stranger: I'll hit u up and you'll see who I am

Stranger: Nice meeting u tho

You: ahahahahahaha funny

Stranger: Keep working hard and always keep ur head up no matter what

Stranger: 💯💯

You: hey, just asking.. r u leaving?

Stranger: Oh I was about to

You: just hold up

Stranger: For what?

You: imma follow u

You: what's urs?

Stranger: I actually dont have insta yet due to strict parents

Stranger: But I find u if ur relationship dont work out

You: Oh that's so sad :(

You: Oh ahahahahah

You: Okay, i guess

Stranger: Were young

Stranger: U believe in stars?

You: Yea

You: why?

Stranger: Then if we look at the same star we will meet each other in real life

You: Oh my god, made my day.

Stranger: Or make a wish whenever u see a falling star lol

Stranger: Nice meeting u Sarah

You: Nice meeting u as well, ur such a good person. take care :)

Stranger: And my real name is Tyrone dont tell anyone

Stranger: It's a secret...

You: AHAHAH i wont, don't worry lol

Stranger has disconnected.

[sophia1644]

Kiss Me

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: a little teensy bit of swearing (okay maybe a bit more than a teensy bit), mentioning of dirty things

Summary: Scott and Stiles have been best friends for as long as they can remember, Y/N eventually joining into their scared bond as well. After a while of not seeing her friends, they hang out one night, testing Scott’s abilities in the woods. Stiles and Y/N are alone as Scott runs off, and some weird hidden feelings arise.

A/N: A little bit of a loooong one for you lovelies. I really enjoyed writing this one. Idk it just popped in my mind, so hope you enjoy. P.S. I have no idea what I’m doing and how to get my writing more out into the tumblr-verse so if u have any tips hit me up, lol.

KISS ME

I smiled as I saw Stiles’s blue Jeep pull up into my driveway, hopping off my bedroom windmill, and grabbing a coat from my closet.

I had no idea what my two crazy best friends would get me into today, but I’d been bored all week, stuck in bed. I had a major cold, and my mom was one of those who overreacted at the slightest cough, so I hadn’t seen the boys for a while.

I ran down my front steps, grinning as Stiles and Scott waved at me from inside the car.

I opened up the back door, climbing in as swiftly as possible. I noticed them watching me intently, until I spoke up.

“What’s up?” I asked.

They looked at each other, Scott outreaching his hand towards Stiles as I knit my eyebrows. What the hell was going on?

“Pay up,” Scott said confidently.

Stiles groaned, making a funny face at him, then leaning over and digging in his jean pocket for a dollar bill.

“What is going on?” I ask, completely confused by the whole situation.

“We bet on you,” Scott replied.

“What?!” I shout.

“We bet on if you would cough or talk first,” Stiles added. “I said you would cough because,” he groans, “I don’t know- I just thought you would.”

I roll my eyes, thinking how ridiculous these boys were for wagering money on something so stupid. I put the reminder to never take either of them gambling in the back of my mind.

“So where are we going?” I ask, curious of their antics.

“Well,” Scott responds, “I wanted to do some tests on, you know, myself. Since the whole wolf bite thing, I can hear better and shit. I want to test it out more.”

A couple days before I was sick, Scott and Stiles had called me about them going out to find a dead body, which I refused since I wasn’t going to be dragged into that nonsense. I’d gotten in trouble by Sheriff Stilinski countless times because of them, and that night I just wasn’t in the particular mood.

So, of course being the imbeciles that they are, they still went without me even though I expressed how idiotic the idea was.

After a few hours, Stiles had called me, panting over the phone and failing to create a coherent sentence.

I remember distinctly feeling sick to my stomach, knowing that something wrong happened, and I forced myself out of bed asking him for his exact location and saying I’d be there in a few minutes.

And now here we are. With new and improved Scott.

“Hey, Y/N, you kind of zoned out on us there,” Scott said as Stiles waved his hands in front of my face wildly.

I look up, meeting their eyes. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

Stiles looks at Scott questioningly. “Maybe she’s a little too out of it to do this, tonight,” I heard him say.

“I kind of feel bad though,” Scott replies. “We haven’t been able to hang out in so long. I felt bad that we didn’t visit.”

“Guys!” I force their attention on me. “You know I’m right here!”

They look at me, their expressions not wavering. “Oh, hi Y/N, didn’t see you there,” Stiles says playfully.

“God, you’re so funny, I forgot to laugh.”

“I know, I can be pret- wait what,” Stiles mutters.

I turn to Scott. “I’m down to do whatever weird ass things you want me to do, tonight,” I state, because I was really not planning on being bored, scrolling through tumblr for another night.

“That sounded really kinky,” Scott laughs. I roll my eyes, sighing. Boys.

“Stiles can you just get Roscoe going?” I ask, getting annoyed of how long we’d been still sitting in my driveway.

“Remember that this was your choice,” Stiles warns. “You gave consent, Y/N.”

I scrunch up my face, looking at Scott as we both knew how wrong that sounded. Stiles didn’t catch on until he paused, looking at us in horror.

“I did not-”

I pat him on his shoulder. “Yep, bud, you totally just did.” The smallest hint of red fills his cheeks as he looks away and starts backing up the Jeep, muttering to himself about how he should think before he says things more often.

…

Later on, Roscoe pulls into the woods, somewhere I hadn’t even thought we would end up tonight.

“We’re good, right?” I ask.

“What?” Scott and Stiles look at me bewildered.

“Like you’re not trying to kill me or anything to get back at me for that one time in second grade when I opened the c-”

“Stop!” They both yell at me simultaneously.

“Y/N, we agreed to never speak of that ever again,” Stiles says in a hushed tone, his hand moving to emphasize his words.

“Okay, okay,” I retort, my hands up in the air in mock fear.

“Okay now for the fun.” Stiles smirks, pulling out a creepy looking leather notebook.

“What the hell is that?” I ask, pointing towards the worn thing in his hands.

Stiles looks at me, confused before seeing my hand. “Oh, it’s the wolf journal.”

“The what?” I ask again, hoping I didn’t hear right the first time.

“The wolf journal.” Yup, hearing is perfectly normal.

I look to Scott for some explanation, but he gives me a look. “Trust me, I didn’t choose the name,” he says, chuckling.

“Okay,” Stiles starts, running his finger down the crinkled paper. I wonder how long this notebook has been around. His finger stops as he jabs it into the notebook. “Our next step of ‘Testing Scott’s Wolf Abilities’ is…”

I walk up next to him, standing on my tip toes to peer over his shoulder. “You actually titled the page, ‘Testing Scott’s Wolf Abilities’?” I ask incredulously.

“Yeah, it’s nice right?”

“Yeah, just flows off the tongue real nicely,” I reply, sarcasm dripping from my lips.

Stiles’s eyes narrow at me, his lips tightening. He points an accusing finger my way. “Hey, sarcasm is supposed to be my thing,” he says while pointing back towards himself. “Not yours.”

I roll my eyes for the umpteenth time today, stepping back. I make my way to Roscoe, placing my hands on the hood and getting the right amount of leverage before pushing myself up, even though Scott offers me help. I refused, because I’m my own independent woman.

“Okay, back to the plan,” Stiles drawls. Scott and I look at one another, our eyes widening at how long this is taking.

Finally Stiles finds the next bullet point, shouting out, “Hearing!”

“Okaaay,” I respond, “How are we going to help Scott with that?”

“I made this super incredible plan,” Stiles begins. “So, Y/N goes over in that direction and starts sprinting and Scott goes over there in that direction. We make her run far enough away that you wouldn’t be able to heat her if you were human, which obviously once upon a time you were but now-”

“Stiles,” I stop him, grabbing his hand that was flying through the air, his actions mimicking his every word.

“I’m just going to run over there,” Scott says. “And Y/N is going to scream because I can recognize that sound from anywhere.”

Stiles and Scott laugh, fist-bumping at the mention of the many heart attacks they’d given me in the past years with their endless, obnoxious pranks.

I had a habit of screaming whenever I was scared, so yeah, I assume it was a noise Scott was somewhat accustomed to.

“Okay, just start whenev-”

And he’s gone,“ Stiles finishes as Scott sprints out into the woods, away from the clearing.

I look up at Stiles. “When should I scream?” I ask questioningly.

“I don’t know, whenever he gives us a sign. I guess we just have to wait fo-”

Stiles stops as we hear the sound of a wolf howling, immediately recognizing it as Scott.

“And there it is. Y/N, just scream whenever.”

I smirk, about to begin when I look at Stiles looking down at me nonchalantly. I grab his hands and place them on either side of his head, covering his ears.

“I don’t want to be the cause of your hearing loss,” I explain and he nods.

I throw back my head, doing an easy task, screaming my lungs out.

I just imagine the last scary movie that Stiles forced me to watch with him, the memory of me jumping out of my seat at that one scene where the killer popped into the screen out of no where.

I finish, my lungs not being able to take it any longer. I smile to myself, almost proud of how loud I managed to get.

I checked if Stiles was okay and he stretched out his jaw. “Damn, I bet the whole town heard that one.”

I giggle, pushing him in the chest playfully. I look up into his warm brown eyes. “Now what?”

“Now, we wait for Scott to come back.”

“Great, how long is that going to take?”

“Hopefully, not too long.”

“I hope your hoping is enough hope.”

“What?” Stiles asks, his chocolate hair falling into his eyes as he quickly looks down at me.

I raise my hand up to it, instinctively pushing it back. Stiles looks at me with wide eyes and I soon realize my mistake, pulling my hands off his chest and away from the freckled boy.

I spin around, my back to him as my cheeks heat up. I nearly never blushed, but the embarrassment flowing through me at the moment was too intense to handle.

“Y/N, can I touch your hair too?” Stiles asks, his voice small, but still loud enough for me to comprehend.

I twirl back around, stunned at the odd request. “I guess it’s only fair,” I reply, laughing lightly.

He walks towards me, one of his hands resting against my cheek and the other combing through my hair.

“Even softer than it looks,” he muses.

I chuckle, the close distance between us causing my breathing to pick up pace. Wondering where the hell all of this came from. Stiles was the last person I assumed to feel all flustered by, especially since he had that thing for Lydia.

It would never work, so I just pulled away from his touch, regretting it as soon as his eyes filled with disappointment.

“Did I walk in on something?” Scott asks, his laugh lightening the mood.

“Nope,” I lie, my mouth curving up into a smile. I can’t help, but notice Stiles tense up in the corner of my vision. “So did you hear me?”

“Yeah I ended up running all the way down to the Hale house.”

“Wait, isn’t that miles from here?” I ask, stunned.

“Yeah, its crazy. I still heard you perfectly,” he replies, with the same amount of bewilderment as me.

“So I guess you are really a werewolf, huh?”

“I guess so,” Scott replies, eying Stiles up and down and looking at me with his eyebrows raised.

Stiles was focusing on his shoes, being completely unlike himself by not contributing to the conversation, and of course his best friend noticed that.

I mouth to him, “Don’t ask.” His eyebrows quirk even higher, but I assume he won’t due to how forcefully I stared at him the whole awkward car ride to his house.

Roscoe stops in front of the McCall house, and Scott hugs you goodbye while giving Stiles a punch to the shoulder.

Normally, my first instinct would be to crawl over the middle console to the front passenger seat, but I hesitated, thinking that it would cause even more awkward tension between me and Stiles.

He silently started driving towards my house, catching my eyes in the rear view mirror a few times, both of us always quickly looking away.

Once he stops the car, I unbuckle my seatbelt, uttering a thank you and opening the door, when I feel a tug in my wrist.

I look down to see Stiles’s hand wrapped around it. “Can we talk about earlier?” He asks.

I nod hesitantly, praying that this couldn’t get any more awkward than it already was.

I still exit the car though, except instead of leaving, I just change my seat so I’m shotgun so it’s easier for us to talk.

We sit in silence for a few seconds, neither of us wanting to speak first.

“Y/N, I’m extremely confused. Like more confused than when Scott became a werewolf, which still is pretty confusing, but now my other best friend is getting thrown into this confusing mess and I’m just confused,” Stiles rambles, playing with his hands and shifting in his seat multiple times.

I wasn’t sure if it made my heart swell or hurt seeing him like this. It was strange for him to be so flustered, as he was normally so open with me.

“To be completely honest, I’m quite confused myself, Stiles.”

“Fuck,” he swears and I’m taken aback a bit, not expecting how loud it comes out.

“Sorry, it’s just that even the way you say my fucking name- just fuck, Y/N.” I look up at his freckled face, watching the gears turn in his head.

How did I even say his name? What was wrong with me saying his name?

“The fuck is going on?” I question, done with the avoidance of what was clearly to come. I hated confrontation, but we had to actually have a conversation instead of making this even more confusing.

“Fuck, I never thought I’d get over her,” he mutters.

“Lydia?” I ask, shocked that he would even think about getting over her, knowing how deep in love he was with her.

He turns, facing towards me and sucking in a deep breath. “Y/N I think I might like you.”

My eyes widen, wondering how this night went so weird so fast. My best friend who has been madly in love with one girl his whole life, just said he may like me. And what’s the most weird is that I feel my heart beating faster at his words.

I try to patch words together to say something in response, but nothing seems to form as I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I know you may not feel the same way and that’s totally acceptable. I also know that this really sudden and all, but since we’re best friends I wanted to let you know immediately so you weren’t blindsided and all…” Stiles rambles on and I bite my lip, spinning the necklace I was wearing between my two fingers.

Stiles is looking down at his hands, still fiddling with them as he continues his speech.

“… even if you don’t feel the same way, I’d appreciate if you just told me now, so I could get over it and our friendship could go back to normal and ugh, this is so incredibly weird, but I hope you’ll still be my friend even after all the stupid shit that’s sputtering out of my mouth right n-”

I cut him off by bending forward and making him lose his focus on his intense rambling, his eyes darting to mine.

“Kiss me,” I say, my breath hitting his lips due to the close proximity.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Stiles asks, rubbing his palms against his jeans.

“I’m so absolutely sure,” I whisper back.

He doesn’t take another moment and leans in, his lips ghosting over mine for a moment until they meet. He grins against my lips as he plants a sweet kiss against them.

We pull apart and his hand raises to my cheek, rubbing a pattern in it with his thumb.

“Stiles, I think I might like you too.”

#stiles #stiles stilinski #stilesstilinksiedit #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles imagine #stiles fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #scott mccall #scott mccall imagine #scott imagine #scott and stiles #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf pack #teen wolf pack imagine #woahthisisalotoftags