#point cloud annotation

[infosearchbpo]

Challenges in Point Cloud Annotation & Strategies for Better Accuracy

Point cloud annotation from Infosearch is a labeling process regarding 3D data collected from various devices (such as LiDAR or depth cameras) and is relevant to autonomous car driving; robotics, and AR/VR. Annotation of point clouds is a difficult task because of the inherent complexities, i.e., sparse data, unstructured format, and vast volume of information, of 3D.

Infosearch is a key provider of LiDAR annotation and point cloud annotation services for machine learning.

We provide the main challenges and the proposed techniques to increase the accuracy of point cloud labeling below.

The Critical Hindrances to Achieving Point Cloud Annotation.

1. Sparsity and Occlusion

•             Distant objects are commonly described by few points in LiDAR data.

•             Obscuration and partial visibility—such as behind cars or trees—happen often in 3D data.

Result: Knowing where one object ends and the other begins is not exactly simple.

2. Unstructured Data Format

•             Point clouds frustrate the image-like structure due to their scattered points in a 3D space.

•             Spatially dispersed points in a 3D scene prevent effective use of its 2D counterparts or natural human cognition.

Result: Higher cognitive load for annotators.

3. Class Ambiguity

•             It is difficult to distinguish similar-looking objects, such as pedestrians and aides.

•             Heterogeneity in datasets or labeling practices between practitioners can damage model performance.

Result: Class confusion and poor generalization.

4. Time-Consuming and Labor-Intensive

•             Annotation tasks such as 3D bounding box or segmentation masks generation are laborious, as long as scenes are not simple.

Result: Costly human resource and slow progress on iterations.

5. Multi-Sensor Alignment Errors

•             It is common for LiDAR, radar and RGB camera data to misalign, thereby causing wrong annotations.

Result: Perception models are trained with flawed annotation using incorrect datasets.

Strategies to Improve Annotation Accuracy

1. Use Advanced Annotation Platforms

•             Leverage tools that offer:

o             3D visualization and manipulation

o             Integration of views of camera and LiDAR for more accurate labeling.

o             Smart snapping and interpolation

Tools: Scale AI, Supervisely, CVAT-3D, Segments.ai

2. Employ Semi-Automated Annotation

•             Utilize automated labelers, pre-labelers with object detection models, to simplify workflows.

•             Combine with human-in-the-loop verification.

Benefit: Helps to reduce direct labor inputs and still achieve more annotation consistency.

3. Establish Clear Annotation Protocols

•             Output specifications for labeling should include minimum sized objects and occlusion considerations.

•             The common instances should be illustrated, with tips given for rare cases.

Benefit: Minimises errors in human work and differences in annotators.

4. 3D-Aware QA Processes

•             Perform post-annotation validation:

o             Check for missing labels

o             Validate object dimensions and orientation

o             Review alignment with camera views

Benefit: Increases the confidence in annotations and elevates model results.

5. Utilize Synthetic & Augmented Data

•             Replicate or augment point cloud datasets in orders of simulation, like CARLA and AirSim, to facilitate real world cases.

Benefit: Improves the completeness of datasets.

6. Train and Specialize Annotators

•             Provide 3D-specific training to labeling teams.

•             Enforce a narrow classification methodology (pedestrians, traffic signs), among labeling crews, for optimal yields.

Benefit: Affects the duration to a large extent and reduces the chances of mistaking within annotation procedures.

Summary Table

Challenge                                            Strategy to Mitigate

Sparsity & Occlusion                       Use multi-sensor views; AI-assisted tools

Unstructured Format                     3D-native annotation platforms

Class absence of ambiguity          To establish exact parameters for labelling, use rigorous QA controls.

Time-Intensive Labeling               Pre-labeling + human verification

Misalignment                                    Sensor calibration + multi-modal QA

Final Thoughts

The process of annotating point clouds is critical as far as establishing reliable 3D perception technologies are concerned. Team productivity is improved by the merging of sophisticated tools, systematic procedures and automation, facilitating delivery of quality data that fuels real-world autonomy and intelligence.

Contact Infosearch for your data annotation services.

[sblai]

Lidar Annotation Services

Elevate your Lidar data precision with SBL's specialized Lidar Annotation Services. Our detailed 3D point cloud annotations drive superior accuracy in object detection and localization for autonomous systems and robotics. Partner with us to advance your AI initiatives seamlessly. Read more at https://www.sblcorp.ai/services/data-annotation-services/lidar-annotation-services/

[magic-shop-stories]

I just found your blog and I love the way you set up your headcanons!!

Could I request your take on soulmate aus for all the boys? Like, what kind of soulmate system would each of them have, how would they meet their fated person? Does it go smoothly, or is it a bumpy ride?

💌 Reply:

Ahhh, thank you so much for the love and this adorable request! 💜 I’ was so thrilled to dive into BTS Soulmate AUs and i really hope it's what you imagined and that it is to your liking 💜 ... Have fun - C -

NAMJOON

Intellectual Slow Burn

HOW YOU MEET

tiny indie bookstore in Mapo-gu

shelves crammed with philosophy and poetry

Namjoon frequents it weekly

always in the same corner - floor cushion #3

green tea cooling beside him

you’re the part-time clerk who restocks the “Existentialism” section every Thursday

you both annotate books with sticky notes

leaving thoughts for strangers

one day, you pick up Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra

you find his note: “Is the Übermensch just a coping mechanism for capitalism? (asking for a friend) – RM”

your reply: “No, but your sticky notes are. – Y/N”

DETAILS

His Notes

philosophical musings in tiny

precise handwriting, dotted with coffee stains

he underlines quotes about self-love and the universe’s indifference

Your Notes

sarcastic quips in purple gel pen

doodles of crying clouds next to Camus passages

The Book That Changes Everything

a battered copy of The Little Prince

he writes: “Do you think the rose ever apologized for being high maintenance?”

you respond: “The fox did all the emotional labor. Discuss.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

booshop

8 PM

rain taps the windows

he’s clutching The Myth of Sisyphus like a lifeline

What He Says

“So. You’re the one who called Kant a ‘coward in a wig.’” (Rubs his neck, glasses fogging.)

“I... I brought banana milk. As a… peace offering? For the capitalism thing.”

His Thoughts

“She’s prettier than her handwriting. Way prettier. Abort mission... wait, is that a Demian reference on her tote bag?”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves longer notes with his phone number scribbled in Morse code

you decode it while he pretends to browse

Phase 2

“accidentally” drops his favorite fountain pen near your counter

note inside: 

“Dinner? I’ll let you rant about Heidegger.”

Phase 3

you hesitate

he blurts: 

“I’m not good at this. But I’m really good at… listening. And losing umbrellas. Mainly listening.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Week 1-4

notes escalate to essay-length debates in the margins of Rilke poetry

Week 5

first “date” at a 24-hour diner

he brings a 3-page bullet-point list 

titled “Reasons I Might Be Annoying (Please Critique)”

Week 8

takes you to Seoul Forest

kneels to fix your shoelace

muttering: 

“I think… I’m yours. If you’ll have me. And my overthinking.”

DETAILS pt. 2

Glasses Move

adjusts them three times when nervous

you count them during his confession

Banana Milk

always keeps a carton in his bag 

“in case of existential emergencies"

Secret Playlist

makes you a lo-fi mix titled “Margin Notes”

samples of bookstore ambient noise

track 7: “Pause for Highlighters.”

Bookmark Gift

carves you a wooden bookmark with “NamKimdiary” on the back (his old Tumblr username)

KEY DIALOGUE

After Your First Kiss

“I’ve written a thousand metaphors about love. None of them… this.”

When You Fight

“I’d rather lose every debate than lose you. Even if you’re wrong about Sartre.”

Proposal (Years Later)

slips a note into your shared copy of The Little Prince: 

“Tame me?”

JIN

Culinary Chaos to Comfort

HOW YOU MEET

a Michelin-starred restaurant in Gangnam

Jin is the elusive "Chef Kim"

known for emotional tasting menus

you’re a food critic

anonymously reviewing his dishes

every course he creates makes you feel his hidden emotions

loneliness in a bitter chocolate soufflé

joy in honey-drizzled tteokbokki

you taste the true emotion behind his dishes

he receives anonymous letters about his food = your critiques

they inexplicably quote his inner thoughts

DETAILS

His Dishes

Jjajangmyeon that tastes like nostalgia

= his childhood memories of cooking with his mom

Bingsu that bursts with loneliness

= his early trainee days

Your Reviews

“The sea urchin risotto screamed, ‘I miss my brothers.’ Hire a therapist, Chef.”

“The kimchi stew is perfection, but why does it taste like you’re afraid of being forgotten?”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

his restaurant’s kitchen

2 AM

corners you after you sneak in to confront him

What He Says

“You. You’re the one who called my soufflé ‘a cry for help in dessert form.’” 

arms crossed, apron splattered with gochujang

“Do you have any idea how many chefs cried because of your ‘constructive feedback’?” 

pauses, then smirks

“…It was kinda hot.”

His Thoughts

“She’s got a resting critic face, but her eyes… they see me. Wait... did she just steal a dumpling?

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves a mystery dish at your doorstep daily

each meal paired with a dad joke: “Why did the tomato blush? Because it saw the salad dressing… and also you.”

Phase 2

invites you to a “private tasting”

just him cooking army stew in sweatpants

“No Michelin rules. Just… us.”

Phase 3

call him out for hiding behind jokes

he admits: 

“I’m scared you’ll taste the mess I really am.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Month 1

exchange angry sticky notes on his fridge

he doodles himself as a crying onion

Month 2

crashes your live mukbang stream

shouting: 

“That’s my japchae! And my future wife!” 

trends for a week

Month 3

cooks you a five-course meal where every dish tastes like unconditional love

no words

just a ring hidden in a bubble tea pearl

DETAILS pt.2

Dad Joke Diary:

keeps a notebook of jokes to make you laugh

#1: Why don’t eggs tell jokes? They’d crack up… like you do at 3 AM.

Secret Ingredient

adds a pinch of sugar to every savory dish he makes you

“To match your smile.”

Mukbang Cameos

sneaks into your streams wearing a Gucci apron

shouting “EAT THIS, NOT THAT!” 

feeding you strawberries

Birthday Surprise

recreates an "I Purple You” live setup in your kitchen

“This time, it’s our color.”

KEY DIALOGUE

During a Fight

“You think I’m just ‘Worldwide Handsome’? I’m terrified you’ll realize I’m just… Jin.”

First “I Love You”

“I don’t need a Michelin star. I just need you to taste this.” 

feeds you a strawberry that bursts with devotion

Proposal

“Marry me. I’ll annoy you with dad jokes for eternity… and make sure you never eat alone again.”

YOONGI

Silent Understanding & Creative Synchronicity

HOW YOU MEET

late-night music production studio in Hongdae

Yoongi works under the pseudonym "Agust D"

you’re a lyricist for indie artists

known only by your pen name "Shadow"

your words and his beats have been paired anonymously by a streaming algorithm

= creating viral hits

you’ve never met

your lyrics and his instrumentals align too perfectly

every time he uploads a track labeled “Unfinished” 

you fill in the gaps with verses that mirror his unspoken emotions

fans call it “fate’s playlist”

DETAILS

His Tracks

haunting piano melodies with gaps in the rhythm

as if waiting for words

song titled “Interlude: Ghost” 

muffled voice memo: 

“Someone out there… knows.”

Your Lyrics

raw, introspective verses about isolation and quiet hope 

they trend every time he drops a beat

bridge for his track “The Last” 

reads: 

“I built these walls, but you’re the echo in the hall.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

24-hour coffee shop near his studio

he recognizes your voice from a podcast where you dissected his “Daechwita” instrumental

What He Says

“You’re Shadow.” 

no greeting, just a tired smirk

slides you a USB drive

labeled “Track 08 – Fix It.”

“The last line you wrote… ‘the static in my veins.’ Why?” 

stirs his black coffee

avoiding eye contact

His Thoughts

“She’s younger than I imagined. But her eyes... they’ve seen the same nights as me. Damn, she’s good.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves cryptic notes in the metadata of his tracks

“Meet me at 3 AM. – D” 

show up at the studio with a thermos of honey citron tea

Phase 2

collaborates with you anonymously

a song called “Burn It pt.2”

changes the final chorus to “Stay.”

Phase 3

after a year of demos, he sends a track titled “First Love” 

no melody

just his voice: 

“I’m bad at this. But… let’s try.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Year 1

anonymous collabs

notices you quote his live rants in your lyrics

Year 2

confront him after recognizing his piano riff from an old Bangtan Bomb

“You’re Agust D. Why hide?”

Year 3

he produces a fully instrumental track for your poetry book

liner notes read: 

“Your words were my first language.”

DETAILS pt.2

Studio Ritual

leaves the window open when he wants you to visit

playing “Seesaw” on loop

Secret Track

hidden file on his SoundCloud named “Glossary_Of_Us” 

has snippets of your voice

Lyric Easter Egg

quotes your first-ever verse in his SUGA mixtape sequel:

“The static’s gone. Now it’s just us.”

Coffee Cup Codes

draws tiny piano keys on your takeout cups

he’s too shy to say “I miss you.”

KEY DIALOGUE

When You Confront Him

“I don’t believe in soulmates. But you… you’re a glitch I can’t fix.”

First Duet Session

“Your voice isn’t perfect. Good. Neither am I.”

Proposal

samples your laugh into a song titled “Forever Interlude.”

credits list: “Feat. My Forever First LOVE.”

J-HOPE

Collaborative Growth & Digital to Real-Life Connection

HOW YOU MEET

on a global dance challenge app called SyncSteps

users upload videos and are algorithmically paired with "rhythm partners."

Hobi joins anonymously under the handle SunshineDance

you’re a shy dance enthusiast

using the app to overcome stage fright

posting under ShadowSteps

the app’s AI matches you based on complementary styles

your fluid, expressive movements sync perfectly with his sharp, energetic choreography

your collaborations go viral

you don’t know each other’s identities

DETAILS

His Videos

crisp, powerful routines tagged with motivational captions: 

“You’re one step closer to shining!”

a freestyle titled “Midnight Groove”

= he leaves a frame empty

urging you to fill it: 

“Your turn, Shadow.”

Your Videos

intimate, emotion-driven dances in dimly lit rooms

your first upload caption: 

“For the girl in the mirror who’s still learning.”

a response to Midnight Groove where you dance in a sunlit studio,

caption: “Found the light.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

app’s chat feature

he messages after your first collab goes viral

What He Says

“Your flow is 🔥! But why hide your face? The world needs to see you.” 

adds a sunflower emoji

“I’ll teach you a confidence combo. Step 1: Pretend the mirror is your best friend. Step 2: Steal their swag.”

His Thoughts

“She’s got raw talent, but she’s holding back. Let’s change that… gently.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

creates personalized warm-ups for you

tagging you in posts: 

“@ShadowSteps – this one’s for your left side hesitation.”

Phase 2

sends voice notes with pep talks 

disguised as "dance tips": 

“Remember, mistakes are just freestyle opportunities!”

Phase 3

after months of collaboration, he slips his number into a private video description: 

“Text me. Let’s choreograph IRL.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Month 1-6

viral collabs

late-night app chats

he nicknames you “Shadow Warrior.”

Month 7 - 8

you join a live workshop he hosts

masked, like your videos

he recognizes your signature wrist flick mid-session

Month 9

invites you to co-choreograph a piece for his dance crew

at rehearsal, he pulls off his cap: 

“Surprise. It’s your Sunshine.”

DETAILS pt.2

Playlist Clues

his practice mixes include BTS’s “Butter” remixes

track #7 is always “Chicken Noodle Soup”

= your first collab choreo song

Signature Move

adds a tiny hop to routines when he’s happy

you mimic it in your videos

Secret Code

uses yellow post-it notes during IRL performances

“YOU GOT THIS” 

= the same phrase from his app comments

Meme King

sends you edits of your dances with dancing carrot GIFs 

captioned: “When you finally nail the combo.”

KEY DIALOGUE

When You Reveal Your Face

“I knew you’d be beautiful. But damn, you’re a supernova.”

During a Setback

“We don’t ‘fail.’ We freestyle. Now grab my hand and trust the beat.”

Confession

“I fell for you in 8-counts. But I’ll love you in infinite ones.”

JIMIN

Emotional Mirrors, Artistic Synchronicity

HOW YOU MEET

global photography platform called Frame & Soul

users submit photos

paired algorithmically with "emotional complements."

Jimin posts under JM_Eyes

you’re a introspective travel photographer

posting as Silhouette_Shots

app pairs your photos based on unspoken emotions

his shot of a rainy Seoul alley at 3 AM syncs with your sunrise over a deserted beach

both tagged “loneliness and hope.” 

your galleries become a silent dialogue

DETAILS

His Photos

moody, intimate shots:

half-empty wine glass backstage

his shadow stretching across a rehearsal floor

crumpled lyric sheets.

self-portrait of his reflection in a broken mirror captioned: 

“Pieces of me I can’t name.”

Your Photos

stark, vivid contrasts:

a lone flower in a cracked sidewalk

storm clouds parting over a cityscape

a response to his mirror photo: 

“Even broken glass reflects light.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where:

Frame & Soul exhibition in Busa

your paired photos are displayed side-by-side

recognizes your style instantly

What He Says

“You’re Silhouette_Shots.” 

voice soft

eyes tracing your photo

“How did you… see that?”

“Your picture of the ocean... it felt like my choreography. Heavy, but… free.”

His Thoughts

“She’s quieter than I imagined. But her hands, they’ve held cameras and courage. God, she’s beautiful.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves cryptic comments on your photos: 

“Your shadows have better rhythm than me.” 

attaches a video of him dancing to your sunset photo’s timestamp

Phase 2

sends you a disposable camera with a note: 

“Capture something I’ve never seen. I’ll do the same.”

return it with a shot of dandelions surviving concrete

sends back a photo of his bare feet on a studio floor

matching your caption: 

“Roots in unexpected places.”

Phase 3

invites you to a silent photo walk through Seoul

communicates only through his camera lens

guiding you to his favorite hidden spots

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Month 1-3

viral photo pairs

late-night app DMs dissecting light and shadow

Month 4

sneaks you into his dance studio

choreographing a piece inspired by your storm cloud series

“You’re my muse. But I’m… scared to be yours.”

Month 6

you collaborate on a photo book titled “Unspoken.”

final page is his shot of two coffee cups with steam forming a heart

your caption: “Developed.”

DETAILS pt.2

Polaroid Habit

leaves Polaroids in your bag

doodled arrows pointing to his favorite parts of your face

Dance Codes

humming “Serendipity” when he’s nervous

then denying it

“It’s… a vocal exercise.”

Exhibition Easter Egg

hides a tiny JM logo in the corner of his photos

matching your SS watermark

Secret Project

films a dance video

his movements trace the shapes of your photographs

credits list: “Choreography by Us.”

KEY DIALOGUE

When You Doubt Your Art

“You think your photos are just ‘pretty’? They’re alive. Like you.”

First Kiss

“I’ve danced for millions. But this… this is the first time I’ve felt the audience.”

Confession

“I used to chase perfection. Now I just chase your light.”

TAEHYUNG

Tangible Connections & Nostalgic Serendipity

HOW YOU MEET

a cozy vintage shop in Daegu named Timeless Treasures

known for its eclectic mix of retro cameras, vinyl records, and handwritten letters tucked inside secondhand books

Taehyung frequents the shop

leaving behind curated items with cryptic notes

you’re a freelance writer

you discover his first note inside a 1970s film camera: 

“Capture the moments everyone else forgets. – V”

you both leave meaningful objects for each other in the shop

accompanied by handwritten stories or questions

the shop owner, a wise elderly woman, acts as a silent guardian

she's placing your items in a dedicated corner

labeled: “Soul Exchange.”

DETAILS

His Items

a saxophone pin with a note: 

“For the jazz in your soul. Play it loud.”

pressed maple leaf from his childhood home: 

“Autumn remembers what summer forgets.”

Gucci scarf (fake) with: 

“Even fakes can feel real if you believe.”

Your Responses

a typewriter key (the letter “V”) and a poem: 

“Words fail, but keys don’t lie.”

mismatched teacup with a story about your grandmother: 

“Broken things brew the best stories.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

shop’s dusty record aisle

catches you inspecting his latest gift

= a vinyl of “Fly Me to the Moon” 

a note: “Dance like no one’s watching… but me.”

What He Says

“You’re the one who took my camera.”

grins, holding up your poem

“Your words taste like hobakjuk; sweet, but… lonely.”

“Why a typewriter key? I’ve been staring at it for weeks.” 

tilts his head, curiosity sparking

His Thoughts

“She writes like she’s lived a thousand lives. And her smile... god, it’s brighter than my flashbulbs.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves a blank journal titled “Our Untold Stories” 

a challenge: “Fill this. I’ll do the rest.” 

you respond with a tale about a boy who speaks in riddles

Phase 2

gifts you a polaroid camera and a map of Daegu with circled locations: 

“Show me your city.” 

your photos of abandoned theaters and sunlit alleys become his muse

Phase 3

sends a vinyl record with a hidden track

his hummed rendition of “Winter Bear”

label reads: “For the girl who hears my silence.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Month 1-5:

exchanging objects and stories

nicknames you “Time Traveler” in his notes

Month 6

you find a script titled “The Boy in the Beret”

a play about a man who falls for a stranger’s words

final page: “Auditions: Tomorrow. 7 PM. Bring the teacup.”

Month 7

the shop’s annual “Nostalgia Night”

he wears the saxophone pin you gifted him

you arrive with his Gucci scarf

owner smiles: “Took you two long enough.”

DETAILS pt.2

Beret Code

wears a red beret on days he plans to leave you something

nod to his fashion

Secret Stash

hides cocoa in the shop’s fridge for you

labeled “For the Writer’s Block.”

Vinyl Clue

his “Winter Bear” vinyl has a scratched groove that plays “I purple you” when spun backward

ARMY Nod

leaves a BT21 Tata keychain with a note: 

“Found this alien. Think it’s yours.”

KEY DIALOGUE

When You Confront Him

“You think this is a game? I’ve been writing us into existence since day one.”

First Date

takes you to a silent film screening 

whispers: “Dialogue is overrated. Just feel it.”

Confession

“I collect vintage souls. But you… you’re timeless.”

JUNGKOOK

Competitive Synergy, Digital to Real-Life Bond

HOW YOU MEET

online multiplayer game called Arena Legends

players worldwide compete in team-based strategy battles

Jungkook, a top-ranked player, goes by the alias GoldenJK

you’re a rising star known as Valkyrie

notorious for your unorthodox tactics

the game’s algorithm pairs you as rivals in ranked matches

your playstyles clash yet complement perfectly

aggression meets precision

game’s AI assigns you as Nemesis Partners

= rare status where rivals share exclusive challenges

each victory unlocks a personalized clue about the other player

Jungkook’s clues hint at his art

“A rabbit doodle in the killfeed”

yours tease your love for indie music

“A lyric snippet in the chat log”

DETAILS

His Gaming Traits

Aggressive yet strategic

dominates matches with bold moves

always protects teammates

leaves golden bunny emojis in the chat after wins

Your Gaming Traits

creative sabotage

use map glitches and unexpected combos

posts montages titled “How to Outsmart a Golden Bunny.”

secretly drop song lyrics as taunts: 

“You’re my favorite mistake.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

Nemesis Partner chat room

unlocked after your 10th match

What He Says

“ValkyrieV. Your playstyle… it’s like watching abstract art. Chaotic. Beautiful.” 

sends a bunny emoji

“Why the lyric spam? You a BTS fan or just trying to distract me?” 

winks via emoji

His Thoughts

“She’s ruthless. But when she revives teammates? Soft. I need to know her IRL.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

creates a custom map titled “Rabbit Hole”

hidden ARMY references

final clue: “Find me where the sky is purple.”

= his favorite Seoul rooftop

Phase 2

sends you a mystery USB drive containing a game mod.

transforms his avatar into a golden knight

guarding a pixel-art version of your hometown

Phase 3

challenges you to an IRL match at a PC bang

shows up wearing a bunny hoodie

controller in hand: “No avatars. Just us.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Week 1-4

toxic rivalry turns into respectful banter

screenshares his art mid-match

you play “Euphoria” over voice chat

Month 2

you team up for a charity tournament

his avatar sacrifices itself to save yours

“Why’d you do that?!” 

“Couldn’t let my nemesis die.”

Month 3

invites you to his studio

you find a painting of your ValkyrieV avatar

caption: “My Greatest Opponent. My Only Equal.”

DETAILS pt.2

Gamer Tag Easter Egg

username GoldenJK rearranges to “Jungkook Loves ARMY.” later

IRL Clues

wears a BT21 Cooky keychain during streams

you gift him a golden bunny sticker for his laptop

Secret Mod

codes a private server

your avatars dance to “Still With You” under pixelated stars

Post-Win Ritual

sends you banana milk deliveries with notes:

“For the victor. Next time, though…”

KEY DIALOGUE

During a Match

“You fight like you’ve got everything to lose. Why?” 

“Because I hate losing to rabbits.”

First IRL Meet

“You’re… shorter than your avatar.” 

“And you’re exactly as cocky as yours.”

Confession

“I used to play to win. Now I play to hear you laugh.”

[blondiedae]

dry house, wet clothes (three)

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 dry house, wet clothes, three

pairing. johnny suh x afab!reader x jeong jaehyun

genre. angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn (for jaehyun), friends to lovers (for johnny)

warnings. NEW (MILD) SMUT TAGS ADDED! swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing, groping, dry humping (kind of? basically) smut tags will be added when it applies. big miscommunication trope, it is what it is. it’s so much angst i’m so sorry

word count. 9,122

plot. the four of you have spent years building the world around you, your friendship, your weekends together hidden in jaehyun's loft. you, mark, johnny and jaehyun. shaking the foundation of that by being in love with your best friend, jaehyun, is a risk you've never been confident enough to take. but, johnny suh is confident and johnny suh has been known to shake the world around you.

other's mentioned. mark lee, dong sicheng (again. it’s always missing winwin hours, i fear), kim jungwoo, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta, na jaemin, lee jeno, lee donghyuck (haechan)

author's note. it’s the halloween chapter! johnny is so corny, jaehyun is miserable. i promise (i hope) that you enjoy it! there is mention of y/n’s skin glowing in the moon, but i don’t literally mean she’s glowing in the dark - just the way moonlight plays off of the highlights in her skin. i hope that’s okay! the next chapter won’t be out until nov. 1st, mostly because it takes place on nov. 1st and that just makes sense to me.

taglist (open). @xiaojunsdino @yoursyuno

playlist. here !

“Is it helping?”

You closed the manuscript and pressed it against your chest, “We’re halfway through.”

Jaehyun leaned, arms crossed and back pressed against the piano across the room. He watched you; how your eyes followed the sky, the clouds sweeping across it to occasionally reveal stars. With you, from the moment Jaehyun met you, it had always been the sky, the stars, the sun and the moon. He’d watch you get lost, he'd listen to you tell him constellations until he had them memorized - their shape and every star sprinkled in them. Jaehyun was afraid he’d lose you to the sky, when he was young. He was scared you’d float away.

His mother had told him, in an effort to calm him, “We’ll tie rocks to her feet, so she’ll never float too far.”

He’d said, “No. I can do it. I can keep her on the ground.”

“And how long will you do that?”

“Always.”

And he did. The older he got, however, the more Jaehyun realized how much you needed to float away, sometimes. The stars found their home in your eyes, filling them with sparkles whenever you looked up. Everything from the way you spoke to the way you thought to the way you would breathe would change when you were floating above, lost in the sky. So, Jaehyun let you get lost, he let you float. He encouraged it; tracing your favorite constellations, pointing out clouds, noting the pops of color you adored in a sunset when you forgot to look up. He’d watch you float, watch your eyes light up, and hold you steady so you wouldn’t get too far; so he could ground you again when you needed him to.

He always would.

Jaehyun knew you would do the same for him. Always, always, always.

He stood up, feet gliding across the wood floors until he knelt down on the mattress next to you and crashed down, “Is that a yes, then?”

You turned your head to look at him, his hair was pushed back off his forehead and, for the first time in a while, you wished he’d cut it shorter. You had forgotten how good he looked, like this. Sighing, you shifted to face him entirely, Lee Haechan’s first novel between you, “Yeah, it’s helping.”

With a grin, Jaehyun picked up the block of sloppily bound pages. He flipped through the typed words and your scribbled annotations, humming, “You said he’s younger than Mark, right?”

“I think by a year. Why?”

“His view on…” Jaehyun paused, suddenly very aware of you with the stars in your eyes, looking at him. The word felt heavy in his throat, creeping up until it sat on his tongue, weighed it down and kept him from speaking. He let out a breath, “His perspective on love is mature.”

The way Jaehyun’s fingers slid down the pages made your skin tingle. You swallowed, “Do you think he’s too young to have experienced love the way he writes about it?”

“I think, if he’s pulling from experience, it’s probably his first love.” Jaehyun placed the manuscript back down, fingers dangerously close to brushing yours. You pulled your hand to your chest, busying idle fingers with the silver chain around your neck. He continued, “Did your first love make you feel like that?”

An exaggerated groan slipped from your lips and you rolled back onto your back, eyes up towards the stars, “I wish everyone would stop bringing him up.”

Jaehyun laughed, switching positions so he was now looking at you, head resting on his palm, “Who else brought up Sicheng?”

“Johnny…” You caught yourself. Your teeth latched onto your lip and acted like a barrier for whatever you were going to let slip. It was simple enough to say Johnny and leave it at that. But the question and his name and the way Jaehyun was looking at you reminded you that you were hiding something from him, “Johnny did.”

He tried his hardest to blink away his reaction. It was another moment when he didn’t need to know the details, but Jaehyun couldn’t keep himself from asking, cool and collected, “Oh yeah? When?”

You closed your eyes, counting seconds between breaths, “Uh, last Monday.”

“Last Monday?” Sunday night you all had gone to the movie. Sunday night Johnny confessed to you. Sunday night Jaehyun told you he’d support your decision and then Monday you and Johnny…you and Johnny. Jaehyun rolled to his back as well, “Monday after he…”

“Yeah.” Something inside you was itching to tell him everything; to tell Jaehyun and watch his reaction the way you did when you’d kissed the corner of his lips. You wanted to see how he shifted, if he shifted, and hope that he’d tell you that he felt something, too. The only thing that came out was half an explanation, “We saw another movie and it..it just came up, I guess.”

He nodded and hummed and tapped his fingers on his stomach. Jaehyun asked you, casually, like you had his support, “So you two have been hanging out?”

You nodded and sighed and played with your necklace, “A little, yeah.”

Then it was silent. There was no wind, no music, no bustling from the street below. There was just you and him and silence, looking up and staying still. Neither one of you moved or spoke for too long, unsure of what came next. What could follow a half confession that you might have accepted Johnny’s feelings. What came after Jaehyun offering you support he didn’t know if he could give. Eventually, you heard him swallow, gulp down the silence, and ask, “Did you ever feel that way about him?”

You could have choked, head snapping to Jaehyun, “About Johnny?”

“No.” His eyes were wide, staring back at you. His attempt to change the subject back was twisted and Jaehyun felt like he was going to scream, “About Sicheng. Did you ever feel the way your writer does about Sicheng?”

“Oh.” It was easier to collect yourself than you thought, “Oh. I…I don’t know. I think it was different.”

Jaehyun agreed, “Love is always different.”

“Maybe he’s not writing from experience.” You looked at the manuscript dividing you two, Jaehyun’s hand still resting next to it. You stared at the sheets of paper like they’d give you the answer outright. Eventually, they might, “Maybe that's how he wants love to feel?”

“Maybe.”

Another silence until you asked, “What time is it?”

“After midnight.”

You looked at him, “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Jaehyun was already looking at you when you turned. The loft was dimly lit; only a small lamp and the light of the waning moon. He didn’t look away when he told you, “I was enjoying it.”

You told him, “I should go so you can sleep.”

His hand had moved up, resting on the mattress between you. Jaehyun pulled yours from around your necklace, “Just stay.”

“You have to work in the morning.” It was a good enough reason. It was Monday night and, come Tuesday morning, Jaehyun did have to work. It was Monday night and, come Tuesday morning, you were spending the entire day with Johnny and hiding it from Jaehyun, “And I have plans in the morning.”

“I can drop you off at home in the morning. It’s not like it’s out of the way.” Jaehyun wasn’t budging, physically or metaphorically. He settled himself into the mattress and draped his free arm across his eyes, “Stay here. It’s too late and too cold to go home. And the skies are supposed to clear up around one.”

“Fine.” You sighed. “I’ll stay.”

Sitting up, you pulled your sweatshirt over your head, rubbing at your bare arms when the chill bit your skin. Jaehyun finally moved again, standing to turn off the lamp across the loft. He could see the outline of your body, your silhouette stretching into comfort and he tried not to gulp too loudly at the sight. The moon kissed your skin just as well as the sun, hugging to the shadows and making you glow in the darkness. Jaehyun took his sweatshirt off, as well, needing to feel your skin against his where he could.

The way his t-shirt clung to his body stopped your heart and you hoped he couldn’t see the way your mouth opened at the sight; grateful for the darkness. The two of you settled in, side by side, arms brushing against each other. Jaehyun slowly lifted his hand, fingertips brushing along your arm. His eyes focused up, a smile tugging at his lips, his heart pounding against his chest. He flexed his fingers, “Hand.”

You gave it to him, eyes watching the clouds cling to the night sky while they could. Jaehyun dropped your hands onto his stomach, fingers laced with yours, “Your hands are warm.”

“Yours are cold.” He looked at you, hoping his eyes captured the stars the way yours did. Hoping he could capture you the way you had captured him, “Come here.”

Your chest was rising and falling with every breath you took. Jaehyun watched as moonlight filled the parts of you normally shadowed; the dips in your collarbone, the slope of your neck to your shoulder hidden by your hair. Glowing beside him, beautiful beside him. Comfortable, safe and grounded beside him. The final moments before you’d float towards the sky in your sleep and Jaehyun would hold you steady; keep you close to the constellations with his soft patterns on your skin, all the while on Earth with him, wrapped in his arms. He’d hold you when you became restless and kiss your head to remind you he was there.

You rolled closer to him, Jaehyun rolled to his side. You pulled your hands, still molded together, up to rest by your cheek against his chest. Your other arm wrapped around his waist, his came to rest at the middle of your back. You could feel his heart beating on the back of your hand; a steady, strong, stable beat. Jaehyun could feel your breathing even out against his palm. It was always so much easier, falling asleep, when the two of you were intertwined like this. Just like this.

You whispered, “Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

He kissed the top of your head, “Goodnight.”

Then he got to tracing; Cassiopeia. On your shoulder blades, the small of your back, your shoulder, your arm. Jaehyun traced the home of the heart nebula into your skin, as gently as he could, hoping you’d feel it; the stars, the heart, his heart, the fire.

Your voice drawn out, worn from reading aloud, quiet against the skin of his hand by your lips. You kissed his knuckles and mumbled, “Cassiopeia.”

Then you were floating away, Jaehyun holding you near when he repeated, “Cassiopeia.”

📻

You woke up to the smell of coffee and citrus twisting around in the air and filling your nostrils. The sun was just barely up, pulling itself over the horizon like it was resisting the start of day, as well. Jaehyun wasn’t next to you, replaced by a mug of steaming coffee and a plate full of cut and peeled oranges. A note was leaning against the mug, Jaehyun’s handwriting scribbled on a clean white piece of paper; Come downstairs when you’re up.

So you did, popping an orange slice into your mouth, securing the plate and your phone and the mug in one hand, pulling the door open with the other. The morning chill only had a few seconds to bite at you, while you stepped down the outdoor staircase and around the corner of his house to the back door. Jaehyun was in the kitchen, half dressed for work and tapping away on his phone. To see him like this, to watch him so quietly get ready for his day, it always felt intimate. Like you were getting a glimpse into his future, the things his partner would see every day and it tugged on your heart to consider that it might not be you, anymore, who sees it.

The thought that, one day, you and Jaehyun wouldn’t fall asleep wrapped around each other like intertwining vines could absolutely break you, if you dwelled too long. Thinking of someone else standing across from him in the kitchen, securing his tie around his neck, sharing cups of coffee and knowing smiles every day could felt like something close to the end of the world.

So, you pushed the thought away and pulled at the sliding door, doing everything you could to smile and tell him, “Good morning.”

Jaehyun looked up, lips hinting at a smile at the sight of you. He’d spent most of his morning routine with his mind clouded by thoughts that, one day and maybe one day soon, he might not be able to wake up next to you as he did today. He battled those thoughts with the image and the memories of all the times he had woken up like that; just the two of you. The sight of you sleeping and your arms wrapped around him and how hard it was to pull himself from that. Jaehyun busied himself with bathing and getting dressed and making your coffee and his, together, just how you liked.

He moved as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t wake you, careful with you as he always was. Jaehyun was happy to see you awake, though; hood pulled up around your head, sipping on coffee and eating oranges at the counter across from him. He couldn’t picture anyone else in that spot, he didn’t want to.

Jaehyun put his phone down, flattening his palms on the marble of the island, “Good morning.”

You asked him, “What time do you need to leave?”

He looked at the clock on the stove and told you, “About twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” The two of you only looked at each other; unwavering eye contact and growing, growing, knowing smiles on your lips. As though to be here, simple and relaxed, for both of you, was everything. You finally blinked, “Do you want to start the next chapter, tonight?”

“Sure.” He rounded the counter, standing directly in front of you with his tie loose around his neck. He pulled the ends away from his chest and towards you, “Help?”

You took them, but you quipped, “What do you do when I’m not here?”

He grinned, teasing and his tone playful, “Tie it backwards in the mirror.”

Your fingers twisted the silk of his burgundy tie, wrapping it around itself and securing it like you always did. You buttoned up the last few buttons of his shirt, hands threatening to shake, eyes trained on the way Jaehyun swallowed. Then, you patted his chest, brushed invisible dust from his shoulders and said, “There.”

Jaehyun asked, “Look okay?”

“Looks good.” Your mouth was suddenly and desperately dry, taking him in; his tailored grey pants, his crisp white button down and the contrast of his tie. He was worlds away from how he normally looked, to you; a dressed up, dolled up version of your Jaehyun. Your Jaehyun. You nodded your head, swallowing for the sake of your throat and swallowing every thought that threatened to slip out, “You look really good.”

And because Jaehyun couldn’t convince himself not to, because the memory of you doing the same lingered on his mind, he leaned down and kissed the corner of your lips. The same spot you’d kissed on him, desperation of his own wanting to keep you here in this moment and in every moment with him. He lingered there as long as he could, straightening back up and saying, “Thank you. I’ve gotta get some paperwork together, then we’ll go.”

Your lips burned, every inch of you did, the way it always did when Jaehyun touched you, brushed against you, put his lips to your skin even in the most innocent way. It was hard to know if you were breathing, it was hard to think of anything else. Still, you spoke.

“Okay.” It came out like a whisper, “I’ll go get my stuff.”

“Okay.” He said, smiling like he did and like he always would. Smiling and heart pumping loudly. Smiling and burning on the inside, hands shaking. Smiling so he could convince himself you’d never catch on. He pointed to your plate and coffee, turning to walk down the hallway, “Finish your breakfast.”

And you nodded.

The things you needed for the day were packed into your tote, the manuscript laying perfectly at the center of the mattress. You came back down the stairs once more, turning right instead of left to pack yourself into Jaehyun’s car. He drove the two of you down the street, humming and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. You watched the same houses you always saw pass by, the morning sun tapping at their windows and the windows of Jaehyun’s car.

Another familiar feeling. Another routine. Something simple and comfortable and ordinary.

When Jaehyun pulled up to your house, you stopped thinking, stopped taking anything in, stopped moving, stopped breathing. Jaehyun did the same, white noise filling his ears. He didn’t want to know and you didn’t want to tell him. You fell asleep listening to his heartbeat. He woke up tangled in you and it took everything in him to pull away from that. You’d kissed the corner of his lips and he’d kissed yours.

And now Johnny was leaning against your gate, waving at the two of you. You didn’t look at Jaehyun, you didn’t know if he looked at you. But, you heard him, as quiet as he tried to be, say one word, “Plans.“

You couldn’t place the tone of it. Jaehyun didn’t know either. Somewhere, at a perfectly centered point between his mind that was bitter, maybe angry and not able to justify it, definitely jealous and his heart that was cracking and trying not to break, Jaehyun lost control of how exactly he wanted to say that. If he even wanted to say it, at all. He blinked, you said, “Yeah, um…yeah.”

“Mm.” Jaehyun didn’t want to ask and you didn’t want to tell him. He nodded, hands sliding around the steering wheel, an attempt at distraction. He didn’t know how, but Jaehyun brought himself to lift and hand and wave at Johnny. His friend, Johnny. His best friend, Johnny. He told you, a simple smile on his face, “Well, have fun.”

You finally looked at Jaehyun, away from Johnny who had busied himself on his phone. You felt caught and you couldn’t pinpoint by who, “Yeah. I’ll see you later, Jae.”

“Yeah.” He said, still smiling, “Later.”

You climbed out of the car then, standing just outside the closed door and looking at Johnny over the roof. Jaehyun and his black sedan parked between the two of you and the entire day you’d decided to spend together. Johnny smiled so you tried to do the same. From inside, Jaehyun waved at the two of you before he drove off, so the only thing between you and Johnny was the space Jaehyun had now left behind.

Johnny greeted, “Hey.”

So you said it back.

He studied your face for a moment, head tilted to the side, before Johnny asked you, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, pushing your hair away from your face. You were longing for one moment of silence between conflicting thoughts, wishing for the ability to quiet your own mind. Something in you was determined to enjoy your day with Johnny. What was left of you after that was lingering on the moments with Jaehyun in the morning and the fact that you’d go back to him tonight. If you tuned in to them long enough, you might throw up.

Johnny looked concerned, pushing himself away from the stone wall and out into the middle of the street in front of you. He pressed his hand to your forehead, eyes scanning any part of you he could see, “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Somewhere between the truth and a lie, a comfortable meeting ground for the two, “I just woke up, I still have to get ready.”

Johnny’s hands slid down your arms, slipping underneath them to rest on your hips. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing down the street, even knowing Jaehyun was long gone. Ducking down, Johnny caught your attention again and smiled, telling you, “Go get cleaned up. I can wait.”

“Out here?”

He laughed, “Preferably not.”

“Okay, yeah. Come inside.” You pulled hands away from you, stepping towards the strip of pavement in front of your house. He followed, closely and with a silent laugh. After you’d opened the gate, you looked over your shoulder to say, “You really meant all day, huh?”

“I really did.” He waited a moment, listening to the sound of your keys jingling and unlocking your door before he asked, “Did you stay over at Jaehyun’s?”

You nodded, slipping your shoes off, watching Johnny follow and do the same, “Yeah. He’s helping me get through the book I’m editing.”

“Oh, nice.” It was so genuine, everything he said and did and thought, likely. Johnny took hold of your shoulders and turned you around, towards the stairs, “Go on, get ready. I’ll be down here, okay?”

“Okay.”

On the third step you turned back to look at him. Johnny had his hands in his pockets, standing in your foyer where he fit comfortably, looking up at you. His head tilted again, puppy-like and hair flopping to the side. After a moment of silence, with nothing but easily closed space between the two of you, Johnny moved. He took three steps to stand one step below you and he leaned closer, closer still until his lips were so close you could feel him breathing.

Johnny grinned, wolffish and ever-the-tease, then he swooped down to kiss your cheek. His lips lingered there for a moment before they brushed against your ear and he told you, “Go get ready.”

So, you did.

📻

October was ending, so was the week.

“Are you almost here?”

He told you, “Almost.”

“Honk when you’re here.” You fussed with your hair, flipping and twisting and pinning back strands that fell out of place, “Did you already pick up Jungwoo?”

“We’ll get him on the way.” You heard a faint honk from outside, then he told you, “I’m here.”

“I heard.” You laughed, taking the feathered white wings from where they’d been tucked under your arm and securing them onto your back by their satin straps. “Okay, I’m coming out.”

October was ending and you���d spent the last week of it falling asleep next to him, highlighter and ink pen smudged into your fingertips. He’d woken up with your fingerprints on his neck, his jaw, behind his ear, his chest and his arms. If he could hide them well enough, he’d leave them for the day, keeping a secret under his crisp button down. At least until he saw you again, that night.

And you’d wake up to texts from Johnny, asking if you were free or telling you good morning.

You’d wake up to notes from Jaehyun when he had to leave while you slept or fresh coffee next to the mattress.

You’d wake up to Johnny on your doorstep, bringing you breakfast.

You’d wake up to Jaehyun still snoring and the sun barely rising, tempting the loft with light. Traces of you illuminated on his skin.

And now October was ending; it was frigid, the chill pinching at the parts of your skin that were exposed as you stepped outside and locked up. You could hear a car door open, his footsteps on the pavement, the clack of your own heels coming after. Your dress was whipping around your calves in the breeze you were creating, hurrying down the path to get to him; to the warmth of car, the warmth of his him. He was leaning against the passenger side door when you finally looked up, staring at you intently with his hands deep in his pockets.

Halfway to him, you said, “Hey.”

And when the wind fluttered the wings, when it swept his breath away, Jaehyun smiled and said it back, “Hey.”

He looked like an absolute dream; suspenders secure on his shoulders, holding his loose white shirt in place while it, too, rustled.

Jaehyun was holding his breath, watching every step you took and counting the seconds until you were directly in front of him. He was in a trance, mind blank but for the image of you and he didn’t know how to shake himself free of that. You had stopped moving and he hadn’t moved an inch, the two of you taking each other in like you hadn’t woken up together. Finally, he spoke. The sound of a car passing urging him to make sound, any sound, of his own.

“You look…” He paused, swallowing and blinking slowly, like whatever Jaehyun was about to say had been lost in his mind. He stood up straight, “Like an angel.”

And you laughed, Jaehyun did as well, his dimples distracting you from saying anything back for only a moment. Slowly you nodded your head and wrapped your arms around yourself, “You look…what are you?”

Jaehyun didn’t answer, not directly, he only opened the passenger door and said, “Let’s go get Jungwoo.”

Without a word, you climbed into his car. The conversation changed, it drifted, it filled the car with a sound combating the hum of the radio until you were outside Jungwoo’s apartment. And when you saw Jungwoo stumbling over his own dress, the way his wig fell into his eyes while he tried to balance his phone and his keys and a half finished iced Americano, you laughed again. Turning to Jaehyun, you scrunched your nose up; his ears burned at the sight, “Jack and Rose, huh?”

Jaehyun nodded, hand secured on the gearshift between you. If he would reach six inches further, he could put his hand on your thigh. He thought about it, the way the fabric of your dress would feel, the heat of your skin, how you’d settle into it like it was completely natural. It might have been, but Jaehyun hesitated and he thought; he wouldn’t just reach. Instead, he smiled and said, “It was Jungwoo’s idea.”

You turned to watch Jungwoo nearing the car, smiling at the sight of you, almost tripping once again. You could feel Jaehyun’s eyes on you, the way his fingers stretched around the gear shift. If you reached just six inches you could wrap your fingers around his and hold his hand; feel his warmth in the smallest way possible, help or hinder him from driving before you settled your hands on your lap. Like it was completely natural. But, you kept your eyes on Jungwoo and swallowed, voice not wavering when you said, “I love it. It’s a perfect idea.”

Then Jungwoo was in the car, clambering in until he was the only thing settled between the three of you. Jaehyun’s hand stretched again, yours played with the hem of your dress and you both let Jungwoo carry the conversation, like it was completely natural.

📻

Yuta’s house was warm; bodies filling almost every space and contrasting the chill the night brought. He was nowhere in sight when the three of you walked in, but you’d come to expect it. Jaehyun had a hand on your back, keeping you close to him and pressed between himself and Jungwoo. Your wings brushed against people, the walls, the narrow spaces you pulled yourself through until you’d all landed in the kitchen.

Jaehyun said, “I’ll get you a drink.”

Jungwoo said, “There’s Mark.”

You said, “I wonder if Taeyong is coming.”

But every sound mixed in with the chatter and the music and the shuffling of feet, clacking of heels, barks of laughter. It was chaos. But, once again, it was expected of Yuta’s Halloween-slash-Birthday Party. So, you stood with your palms pressed to the countertop and tried to take in as much of it as you could. Someone bumped into your wings again, you heard Jungwoo hollering a “hello” to someone across the house. The crowd shifted like a kaleidoscope before you, new shapes and bodies and costumes rotating in an uncertain pattern between rooms. Jungwoo was right, Mark was close to the edge of a group, from the neck down dressed like Spider-Man, a bright smile on his face.

Jaehyun found his way back to you, pressing a plastic cup into your hand and turning to do the same for Jungwoo before taking a sip of his own drink, “Who is Mark talking to?”

“I think…” You squinted over the edge of your cup, mulling over answers as you swallowed down the alcohol, “It looks like Jaemin.”

Jaehyun nodded, observing the crowd as you were. He saw him, then. Johnny as a knight, Johnny looking at you. Johnny on his way over. When the music paused, when there was a break between songs and Jaehyun could swear he heard Johnny’s chainmail clinking, it hit him. Maybe the alcohol, maybe the increasingly hot air, maybe the noise as everyone rushed to dance to whatever song was playing. It clicked and Jaehyun felt sick, dizzy, desperate for stability.

Johnny looking at you. Johnny on his way over. Johnny as a knight. Johnny as your Romeo. Jaehyun cleared his throat and said, “You’re Juliet.”

You only glanced at him sideways, maybe afraid to look at him dead on. Between the feeling of Jaehyun’s arm brushing against yours, the sound of his voice you’d never hear clearly enough to place and the alcohol settling in your stomach, you felt a heat rush to your face. You had seen him, too, watched as Johnny weaved through the crowd and his grin and the way he looked at you when you repeated, “I’m Juliet.”

Jungwoo was still close enough to hear, but you’d never know if he was listening when Jaehyun said, “You wore a couple costume with Johnny?”

“I…” You had to pause, you had to blink. Johnny was so close that maybe he’d be able to read your lips, be able to read your body language, be able to read the way Jaehyun was looking at you better than you ever could. You wondered, only for half a second, when you’d become so out of touch with the way Jaehyun moved and spoke and thought, your heart plummeted only to shoot back up at an alarming pace, “I guess so.”

Jaehyun didn’t wait, didn’t hesitate or think about it. He was only six inches from your ear when his words flowed through them, “So does that mean you’re a couple?”

You looked at him then, losing Johnny for the moment it took you to swallow and say, “I don’t know Jaehyun.” It didn’t sound bitter coming from your lips, maybe confused, but it tasted bitter on your tongue. You looked over Jaehyun’s shoulder at Jungwoo, something settling inside you that you couldn’t pinpoint and raising your eyebrow, “You wore a couple costume with Jungwoo.”

Jaehyun glanced at his counterpart, down at his drink, across the counter where Johnny had been stopped by someone just briefly enough for Jaehyun to chide, “It’s not the same thing.”

Johnny was in front of you then, smiling and reaching out for your hand. Johnny was in front of you, stopping anything you might have said to Jaehyun. Johnny was in front of you and you reached six inches to take his hand when he said, “There’s my Juliet.”

And when you took it, when Johnny pulled you away and Jaehyun choked down the lump in his throat, Jungwoo put his arm around his Jack Dawson and said, “I think you picked the wrong Leonardo DiCaprio.”

And Jaehyun tried to take that in. He tried to rationalize how he'd been with everything for the last two weeks; every look you gave Johnny, the way he’d danced you down the street, the way Johnny watched you when you weren’t paying attention. The way Johnny had stolen you away at the festival to dance again, spin you around and pull you near. The way Johnny pulled you to dance, right then. Always dancing.

Always dancing.

Jaehyun thought you must have been dizzy from all the dancing, from the twists and turns and loops Johnny pulled you into. But, maybe if you were dizzy it was better. Jaehyun took another drink. Maybe if he was dizzy, even for a little while, it was better.

Maybe if both of you were dizzy it would make all of this feel completely natural.

📻

Johnny had you in the center of the living room; wings askew and hair falling into your eyes. He spun you and spun you and spun around you until you felt like maybe he was what kept the whole world spinning. The lazy grin on his face made your drunken heart swell. It would do the same thing, sober, so long as he kept looking at you like that. Neither of you were following a distinguishable rhythm; you were dancing to the song and Mark’s laughter and the sound of the floorboards creaking under your feet, Johnny was dancing to the music and Mark’s laughter and ping pong balls bouncing off Yuta’s dining room table.

Either way, you let him lead you.

Either way, he laughed and spun you once more.

And when you stumbled over your wavering feet, Johnny caught you and held you close enough that the ends of his hair brushed against your face. He smiled more, if he could, he’d smiled until it hurt looking at you like this. Johnny didn’t pull back and you didn’t think to ask him to, pressed together in front of all your friends and so blissfully drunk. He told you, “You look so beautiful, Juliet.”

“Yeah?” It was a whisper lost in the chaos. You spoke louder when you told him, “You look beautiful too, Romeo.”

Johnny seemed shocked, he put on a good show of it, “I do?”

And with calm, alcohol laced certainty, you said, “Always. Always beautiful.”

It came out slurred but clear enough. The sound hit his ears and Johnny considered asking to borrow your wings so he could float away. He knew he’d had too much to drink, but it felt so much like the night everything changed for him, the night your Knight looked at you and saw Juliet. So, Johnny pulled you upright and steadied you when you wobbled again. He waited, he watched and when he knew he could get away with it, Johnny leaned down and said, “I’m going to kiss you.”

You looked, too. The mass of bodies had thinned and spread out throughout the house. The two of you were tucked inside a small crowd, in a circle and world of your own, mostly blocked - blocked enough. So, you nodded, “Okay.”

And when Johnny kissed you, the room that had settled around you started spinning again. His lips, his lips, pulled you in as his arms did, wrapping you up in Johnny and holding you there. You could smell his cologne clinging to him, the taste of the cinnamon whiskey on his lips. Then, he pulled away faster than you wanted, faster than either of you wanted. Bug eyed, you shook your head and breathed out, “More.”

“More?” His breath was just as strained, “More.”

Johnny pulled you from your bubble, popping it to drag you through the living room, then the kitchen, outside into the yard and behind the biggest tree that had grown. Both of you were breathless, still, even more. Because you wanted more, you needed more of Johnny. He needed more of you. Your wings folded slightly around the trunk of the tree when he urged you against it, chest rising and falling until it bumped against Johnny’s.

He asked again, breath dancing in a cloud between you, “More?”

You nodded, licking your lips and running your hands up his arms, the cool metal armor he’d strapped to himself for just one night, “Please.”

So he gave you more, mind clouded, mind thrilled, mind lost. Johnny leaned down to kiss your lips like everything he needed was secured within them, slowly urging them open. His hands settled on your hips, their favorite place to be, with an almost bruising grip. The rumble of bass from inside the house opposed your heart hammering in your chest, Johnny’s pounding in his own. Your fingers laced in the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck and he almost begged you to stop before you tugged at them and he let out the sweetest moan; more melodic than any song you’d heard all night.

He moaned your name, the sound leaving his mouth and filling yours, “My Juliet.”

“Johnny.” More music. Better music. The sound of an angel. Johnny’s hands took hold of your thighs, pulling you up and wrapping them around his waist. His hips were grinding up against you, pulling sounds from you he didn’t know he was so desperate to hear until then. The bark of the tree scraped at your back, tearing away the feathers of your wings and dirtying up your dress. Johnny’s hands squeezed at your thighs to pull you down as he rolled his hips up, “Fuck, Johnny.”

And all at once, he stopped.

“This can’t happen here.” His voice was so low, thick and strained. You knew he was right, “We have to…shit…not here. Not now and not drunk. But, fuck, I want you so bad. I just…”

“Me too.” He paused all movement then, Johnny stopped and he opened his eyes, waiting for you to do the same. It shouldn’t have shocked him, but every time you moved closer to him, every bit you let him in, was everything to him. Intoxicating, even when drunk. He breathed, so you did too and reminded him, “I want you, too, Johnny.”

He wanted to point out that you were drunk. Johnny wasn’t cynical, but he would always wonder how much of this moment was encouraged by coconut and pineapple flavored courage. He didn’t place your feet back onto the ground, he only took you in. The white freckles you’d painted on your cheeks, the shimmer around your eyes and small streaks of mascara that had smeared throughout the night.

You were so impossibly beautiful to him. Always, as you had said, and especially in that moment.

“Breathe.” He was sobering up, in a way that made sense to him. Johnny was sobering up in a way that made him brush your hair back and kiss you one last time. He was sober in the way that urged him to seek out Jaehyun and Jungwoo to take you home for the night. Sober in a way you were miles away from, “Breathe with me.”

“I’m breathing.” Your words were still slurred. Johnny laughed, hands dropping your legs slowly and coming up to hold your face. Your labored breathing evened out in his hold, eyes locked on his in the darkness, “Johnny?”

“I’m okay. We’re okay.” Before you had the chance to worry, he assured you, “I just think we should get you home. Let’s both get home, okay?”

And, feeling the weight of the party and your wings and the alcohol, you nodded, “Okay.”

He found Jaehyun and Jungwoo, leaving you with Mark and Jaemin in the living room. Mark was mumbling the words to a song, tapping the beat onto your shoulders as you tried to hold each other steady. He leaned to look at Jaemin over your shoulder, “Are we getting food?”

Jaemin shrugged, “Jeno isn’t answering.”

Like Mark hadn’t heard the answer, he turned back to you and offered, “Come with us to get food. I miss you.”

You laughed, “I can’t. You can’t.”

“Why can’t I get food?”

“No. I can’t get food. I’m going with Jaehyun, Johnny and Jungwoo.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, “You can’t miss me because you see me all the time.”

Mark snickered, drunk and boyish and falling over himself, “That’s a lot of J’s.”

“Too many.” Your hand reached out to pat his shoulder, where his shoulder should have been, where you swore his shoulder was a second ago. The sight of your hand flapping aimlessly pulled a loud laugh from both of you. “I’m so tired.”

You could hear Jungwoo before you saw the three of them, forehead settled on Mark’s shoulder, tuning into the way the world spun without Johnny’s help. He laughed and pulled at your hands, guiding you from Mark, “I got her, Johnny.”

And with a nod, you stepped away from Mark. The combination of lingering intoxication and sleep creeping in had you wobbling again. You hadn’t remembered feeling so drunk until you stopped moving, until you stopped spinning, until Johnny had pulled you outside. You shook your head, letting Jungwoo pull you more and reminding Mark, “Let me know when you get home. Love you, Mark.”

The youngest smiled, “Love you.”

The first day of November had already begun, only barely and still hidden in the lingering Halloween shadows. It took you sixteen incertain steps for you to stumble, missing the last step of Yuta’s porch. Jaehyun and Johnny were waiting at the bottom and the sight of it launched your stomach up into your throat. Johnny’s lips were swollen still, pink and plump and you wanted so badly to kiss him again. To feel the cool metal of his costume armor under your fingertips, pressed against you.

And Jaehyun was looking directly at you, keys jingling in his hands while Johnny spoke to him. November wind swept Jaehyun’s shirt open and flush against him, your fingerprints he hadn’t washed away peeking out. If Johnny had made your world spin tonight, Jaehyun had made it stop. If you wanted the coolness of Johnny against you, on top of you, you also wanted the heat that rested underneath your skin when Jaehyun touched any part of you.

You were a mess; a sobering mess, but a mess all the same.

So, you stumbled. Sixteen steps and you stumbled. Jungwoo caught you halfway through catching yourself, hands on your waist and a drunken smile on his face. He’d lost his wig and you hadn’t noticed, but Jungwoo was always pretty without it.

You told him as much, mumbling a soft, “So pretty, Jungwoo.”

Johnny had knelt down in front of you, “Come on, Juliet. Let’s get you home.”

Jaehyun stood to the side, watching you climb onto Johnny's back holding your dress down, balancing your wings. He didn’t say anything, for the time it took you to secure yourself on Johnny, on your knight. Jaehyun only waited and cursed himself, cursed the night and the Knight and God, if he could get away with it, before he cleared his throat and said, “The car is just down the street.”

Johnny carried you to the car, loading you into the back and draping Jaehyun’s discarded blazer from his work day over your lap. You could smell Johnny again, that same cologne, but it was surrounded in a cloud of Jaehyun; his jacket, his car, him in the front seat.

You wanted to be home, suddenly and increasingly dizzy. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

And maybe it was for the best. Maybe if you were dizzy, you wouldn’t see Jaehyun looking once, twice, three times in the rear view mirror at you. You couldn’t focus on the way your heart pounded and your head and the way your stomach flipped if you fell into the spin. Dizzy was best.

Johnny didn’t stop you when you leaned away from the window, lowering yourself until you had your head on his lap. He smiled, a secret tucked away in the backseat of Jaehyun’s car, and brushed your hair back once more. When you melted into his touch, Johnny smiled more, “Sleep. I’ll let you know when you’re home.”

It felt more like a blink, but you knew you’d fallen asleep for much longer when Johnny eased you awake; a hand in your hair, a hand on your shoulder wrapped around the ribbon of your falling wings. He was close to your ear, hunched over in a way that had to be uncomfortable for him, telling you, “Wake up, we gotta get you inside.”

Jungwoo asked, “Do you need help?”

Johnny shook his head, easing you up, “I’ve got her.”

Jaehyun stayed quiet, hands secured on the steering wheel and his eyes forward; towards the loft, towards the place you’d slept next to him for the entire last week. Towards anything that made sense.

Johnny pulled you from the car, from the warmth of Jaehyun’s heated seats and his jacket and through your gate, “Easy.” he said, like any of it was, “Easy, I’m right here.”

He didn’t kiss you at the door. Johnny couldn’t kiss you again, no matter how much he wanted to. Christ, he wanted to. You wanted him to, just as much, mind clouded and forgetting why he wasn’t. Forgetting that Jaehyun and Jungwoo were in the car, forgetting the audience you had. The two of you just stood there for a while, drawing out the process of unlocking your door until he took the keys from your hands, you shivered and Johnny pushed the door open for you. And you were home.

As you had wanted. Still dizzy, less dizzy.

Johnny told you, “Goodnight.” He said your name so softly you thought it was merely a shiver running down your spine, passing you back your keys and holding your hand for just a second, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

He started to walk away, down the path back to the car, down to the audience waiting to give mixed reviews about your performance on the stairs. And you were home, like you wanted, one step away from safety and a world that didn’t spin and disorient you. You were home and he was leaving you in a world that was neither halted nor spinning, but just wobbling helplessly. Unsure of itself. You wanted to feel sure.

Johnny turned and made it five steps before you stopped him, “Johnny wait.”

He looked back at you, hands at his sides and his chainmail halting a second after, “Yeah? You okay?”

“Stay.” You swallowed, “Why don’t you stay?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Do you want to stay?”

“I think you know I do.”

You were breathing, filling your lungs slowly with crisp air. That’s what he told you to do, so you breathed. Your hands were wrapped around your keys, as tight as could be, “Okay. Then stay.”

“Okay.” Johnny let a smile settle on his face again, another secret under a November moon, “Okay, yeah. I’ll stay.”

He went back to the car, to the audience. He looked at Jaehyun with such a particular smile, a certain one, an elated one. Johnny said, “You guys go ahead. I’m going to help her get settled.”

Jaehyun looked at Johnny and nodded like he was okay with that, because he had to be okay with that, and he settled on telling him, “Get her some water.”

Johnny came back to you, pulled you inside as carefully as he could and sat you down on your stairs. You closed your eyes letting his world, the things he created, the way Johnny felt and smelled and sounded, spin around you. His fingers worked at your shoes, sliding them from your feet and putting them away before doing the same for himself. He told you, softly, “Stay here.”

You croaked, “Okay.”

And another blink passed before Johnny was in front of you with a glass of water in his hand, “Sip.”

Throat dry, you repeated, “Okay.”

You took a sip and Johnny worked at untying the knots of your wings. You took a sip and he slipped them off your shoulders, his fingertips cool and your skin warm beneath them. You took a sip and Johnny eased you up, once again, helping you up the stairs. You took a sip and stumbled and Johnny whispered, “Almost there, okay?”

He sat you down on your bed where you sipped and sipped and watched as Johnny fumbled around your room, pulling open drawers, sifting through your closet. He was in front of you again, placing a lump of clothes next to you and asking, quietly, so unlike Johnny, “Do you want me to help? I won’t look.”

You nodded.

So he helped you, pulling the pins and ties from your hair and threading his fingers through it to shake any knots or lost barrettes loose. He pulled your shirt over your head first before slipping his fingers underneath the collar and untying your dress, “Stand up.”

You did, on wobbling legs. One of his hands held the back of your thigh, the other worked at pulling your dress down over your hips and slipping the fabric down your thighs, your calves, from around your ankles. You might have been holding your breath the whole time, eyes locked on every move he made, but you didn’t notice until it all came rushing out at once. Johnny tossed your dress behind him, eyes down, eyes averted, eyes respectful, and reached for the pants he’d placed beside you. The shirt he’d given you was long enough to cover most of you, comfortable enough to sleep in alone, so you shook your head and told him, just above a whisper, “No.”

He only nodded, standing upright and moving a step away from you. Johnny pulled off his armor, pulled himself out of Romeo after you’d been stripped of Juliet, and turned his back to you. You watched every muscle in his back flex before you caught yourself, mumbling, “Sorry, I won’t look.”

Johnny looked over his shoulder at you, hair in his eyes, a cheeky smile, and he said, “You can.”

You blinked. You breathed. You blanched at the sight of him.

“Johnny.” He turned and picked up the shirt next to you, one he pulled for himself. It slipped over his head easily, oversized on you and perfect on him. He started working on the button of his pants, the sound of the zipper and fabric falling to the floor made you swallow, “I don’t have pants to fit you.”

“It’s okay.” He gathered his clothes, neatly piling them in a corner, “I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs, okay? If you need me, just call. I’m a light sleeper when I’ve been drinking, I promise I’ll hear you.”

Again, you shook your head and said, “No.”

“No?”

“Stay.” It felt like your vocabulary had been ripped from your memory, only repeating the same handful of words you’d said since coming home; no, okay, stay. Johnny let out a breath and you suddenly felt too nervous to look at him, anymore, your courage being stolen away, as well, with every sobering breath, “Please.”

“You’re still drunk. I don’t think we should.” He told you, “I don’t think-“

You cut him off, “Just to sleep…I just…just to sleep. Nothing else.”

It was taking him a minute to reply, rethink, reflect. So, you took a minute to take him in; Johnny, not Romeo anymore, in his boxer briefs and a shirt from your drawer. A shirt Jaehyun had given you after you’d stolen it too many times. Johnny had his hands on his hips, eyes closed and his head back, in your room and in Jaehyun’s shirt. Your throat felt dry again and you took a sip to comfort it and remind yourself that he was Johnny, he wasn’t Jaehyun or Romeo or anyone else he could have been tonight.

He was Johnny who’d spent the whole night with you, Johnny who rotated the Earth for you, Johnny who was certain and careful and took care of you. Johnny who was still silent and thinking across from you. You filled that silence with the last sliver of courage, telling him, “We’ve never just slept together. Just the two of us. Jae…Jaehyun and I do it all the time. Even Mark sometimes.”

Johnny breathed, “I know.”

“I just…Johnny, I just want to be close to you right now.” It was the truth, the space between you had made everything too still, again. You stepped towards him, wobbling and unsure, “My couch is really uncomfortable.”

He laughed at that, looking at you, finally looking at you. Johnny, not Romeo. Johnny, not Jaehyun. He tried his best to bite back a smile at the sight of you, hair loosened and messy, fingers tapping together in anticipation, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

It was simple. He moved to turn the light off, you adjusted to the moonlight filling the room and Johnny reached for your hand to pull you towards your bed. For a while, you both lay still and facing each other, breathing slowly until you took each breath together, in and out.

Johnny reached out, hand sliding from your neck to your shoulder blades to the middle of your back, slow as can be. He took his time leaning in, waiting for you to stop him, to react, to pull back. You only nodded and closed your eyes, anticipating the feeling of his lips on yours. Impossibly soft, slow and sweet, shorter than you wanted. He kissed you perfectly, and while you were catching your breath, with his forehead against yours, Johnny whispered, “I’m not him. This isn’t…I don’t want this to be how you are with Jaehyun.”

“I know.” Your chest was tight, Johnny’s hold on you was so loose it felt like he was giving you an out. But, when you opened your eyes and saw the shirt he wore, the way it fit him so differently, the way he filled the space in your bed comfortably and how, when you finally looked up, Johnny watched you, you calmed. You nodded your head and told him, “It isn’t. We’re not.”

“We were.” He reminded you, “I really want to change that.”

“I know.” You repeated, “We can.”

Johnny pulled you closer, secured in his arms. You could hear his steady heartbeat, so certain with you pressed against him. Johnny, not Jaehyun.

Johnny, not Jaehyun.

You had almost drifted off, the thought swirling in your mind and spinning you into slumber. Then, you heard him again, a hint of a laugh when he asked, “Wasn’t it Sicheng’s birthday, this week? Did you text him?”

And you laughed, shaking your head against his chest and mumbling, “Shut up.”

previous. masterlist. next.

[lesbianslvt666]

My angel wanted it so here it is :))

@machetegirl109

Couture!Lingerie!Designer!Ellie x Rich!spoiled!Reader

(Also idk why but i picture Ellie fully tatted on this one like Julien Baker tatted iykwim)

The night was setting fast, cold breeze entertaining through the front door as it opened, big man dressed in a black tuxedo entered the store and a bright voice chime in behind him.

“We are closed now!” Ellie was tired, her assistant had gone sick so she had been working by herself for a week.

“Miss Williams, good evening… we have an appointment settle for today” Ellies slumped form approached the talking man.

He gave Ellie your last name, her confused face looked around the store, she was sure she heard another voice but she couldn’t see you.

Her face went down to the desk in front of her, big notebook where they annotate all the appointments, her assistant had suggested going digital, she even proposed uploading everything from the notebook to the computer, but Ellie was a simple woman and she loved physical stuff.

Her hand wondered to the date of today, looking for time frames and your last name. Bingo…

“Why is it taking so long!” Your voice revealed from behind the broad man, pretty legs adorned with the tiniest of skirts, brown colored with a pretty white button up.

Your hurried steps came closer to her, pretty stilettos clacking with every step.

Bending over the desk you came closer to her notebook, long manicured fingers pointing to your name on the page.

“Here i am, now can you look at my tits? I have a special request…” your voice came lower than expected, Ellie was prettier in person.

“Um… yeah, uhh… over here” her hand pointing towards the dresser room

Your guard went outside the store, giving extra privacy for he knew your plan.

A week ago you were scrolling down tiktok, finding on your fyp an add for Ellies store, and as soon as you saw her you needed her…

“Look Roger, this is the plan” you told him, sitting him down on the couch, you took the remote and pointed to your big screen. “Do you see this girl?” The image of a short haired, green eyed woman appeared on the screen, Roger moved his head up and down as to say yes. “Good, i want her, so…” you gave Roger your unlocked phone, already with the number ready to dial. “Call to her store and make an appointment for the weekend, we are going to New York, so get your things ready” your bright smile and tiny jumps made Roger giggle with you.

Walking in the dressing room Ellie tried not to look much at you, your pretty face was already printed in her mind and your scent clouded the entire room.

“So, here is how this works...” she grabbed a measuring tape and put it around her neck, a small note pad on her hand and a gel ink pen hanging on her working apron.

It was no secret that Ellie liked girls, however, her work ethic was stronger than any desires… until now.

For when she looked back at you there was no clothes but your pretty skirt and those sexy stilettos.

She gulped.

“Um… as i was saying… i am gonna take your measurements and then we can um… we can talk about… uhh… the rest?” Her mind was wondering, your breast on full display for her and she was already melting…

She was trying hard to pay attention to her words, this should be normal to her i mean, she’s been doing this for years now is not something she hadn’t seen before… right?

“Measure me then!” You were so overly excited, thinking of her touching you pooling in a creamy spot on your undies.

She came closer to you, reason and lust fighting inside if her.

Her hand reached for the tip of her measuring tape, pulling it down her neck, long slender fingers stretching the tape, pressing them across your back, measuring your shoulder blades, a gasp left your plump lips when her tatted fingers caressed over your pretty skin.

She was trying hard not to touch as much as she wanted, but the little whimpers you gave with each burning contact her veiny hand gave you got you delirious.

You turned around facing her now.

Her pussy was pulsating and so was yours.

Rapidly beating hearts mirroring each other with fervor.

You took her hands on yours, measuring tape between her fingers and you placed it on top of your tits, the tape vaguely covering your nipples.

Ellie was fighting creamy cunt versus screaming mind.

The ache between her legs was louder than her reason.

Her eyes went from your eyes to your nose, lips and neck, traveling all the way down to your breasts.

One of your hands traveled to her hair, placing a strand behind her ear.

She glassed a finger over your nipple, lips parting open when she felt your pretty pink glittery nails scratching her scalp when you grabbed a handful of her auburn hair.

Her green eyes darkened, blown pupil and flush skin.

The warn light of the room imitating the feeling on your cheeks.

You were indecisive, crashing her lips with yours first or give her the satisfaction of tasting your pretty tits on her mouth?

Her eyes trained to them, almost begging you, her hands now traveling down your torso, open palms touching every part of your skin, cold silver rings chilling the fire trail she was leaving behind.

When her hands reached your hips your mind went dark, thoughts of all the thing you could do with, for and to her clouded your vision.

Your hand on her head pushed her face forward, as soon as her hot mouth latched on your tit her hands squeeze your hips with need.

Licking both your boobs and sucking on them like a desperate, hopeless slut.

“You little cunt like that?” Your whinny voice penetrated her ears and her eyes rolled back.

One of her hands grabbing yours, guiding you to her aching cunt, a wet patch on her trousers and you had to close your thighs together.

Your hand went up to the collar of her blouse, cleaning her juices on your tongue first and then going back to the collar, pretty finger curling on it and taking her with you, guiding her like a lost puppy to the couch.

You sat her down straddling her, her hips buckled up as soon as you let your weight down on her and it made you moan.

Her hands traveled to you ass squeezing, her lips parted in satisfaction as soon as you squirmed from the contact. You took your opportunity, lowering yourself to kiss her, her lips crashing with you.

Fierce kiss heating both your cores, sloppy tongues and wet saliva falling from each corner of your mouths.

Both bodies trying too hard to be at contact with one another and Ellie almost went crazy, she latched on your collarbone, butterfly kisses flying around your neck, your hands rushing to the buttons of her shirt, trying to take it off.

Your desperate attempt made her chuckle on your neck, your hips bucking at her reaction.

Detaching from your skin was hard, but she had to give you all you wanted, so she took off her shirt, sports bra falling with the blouse to the ground.

Your pretty nails came in contact with her nipples, teasing and tickling her which made her squirm, her cunt was soaking for you, pulsating with the thought of having you screaming her name while you scratched her skin with your glittery nails…

Fuck writers block, i always hit as soon as the smut starts lmao 😭😭 sorry yall :((

[et-cant-phone-home-no-signal]

Narcissus and Goldmund - Chapter by chapter thoughts and analysis

oh yeah we're doing this. could not help myself, and so it begins; i'm writing a detailed thought process of notes as i read each chapter of this book and please be warned, i WILL be using quotes and thus there will be book spoilers, even though i think that's pretty self explanatory for something like this. i'll try not to clog it with quotes but i also won't shy from using them if i think it's important to make a point with it. anyway, you can all blame @impmansloot and @perplexingly for getting me into this hole because their art and scene analysis just got to me and so, here i am with an English translation (but mum has now also ordered the German book so we can compare how it holds up to each other, very exciting!). i read her the first chapter aloud and it just hooked us both.

my book is translated by Leila Vennewitz, the 1994 translation that was shortlisted for the Schlegel-Tieck Prize, though there is also the translation by Ursule Molinaro from 1968, which is also popular. bearing this in mind, some quotes may be different depending on which translation you're familiar with! to keep up with this ongoing series, i'll be using the tag #et reads n&g to make it easy to find :) enjoy my thoughts on the first chapter under the cut!

Chapter One

Immediately, the first page hooked me in - as a Tolkien enthusiast I am a sucker for descriptions, but this wasn’t longwinded and in any way cumbersome, I’ve already grown attached to this chestnut tree and would love to see it with my own eyes, if only to understand how “alien” it might seem to the local population.

The use of commas does not phase me, in fact, I welcome it. It sets the pacing of the sentence and allows you to read it as if it were a flowing river.

This detailed look into monastic life is actually totally fascinating and a bit thrilling to me - who knows what goes on inside the monastery?

‘Books were written and annotated, systems devised, ancient scriptures collected, manuscripts illuminated; the people’s faith was nurtured, the people’s faith smiled at. Scholarship and piety, naïveté and subtlety, wisdom of the Evangelists and wisdom of the Greeks, white magic and black.’ STUNNING NO NOTES.

Honestly it makes monastic life seem incredibly peaceful and fulfilling thus far, it is described as a gentle and nurturing environment where experimentation is encouraged - ‘there was room for everything’.

Oh yes, love a classic old man and a youth comparison - dig in!!

The dichotomy between the abbot and the novice is delicious and definitely beautiful in its simplicity - the descriptions given to them both are so similar yet so distinct, they are nothing like each other, not that you would necessarily expect them to be, but it’s still a nice distinction. The old man holding wisdom but being a very simple man in contrast to the youth having immense knowledge but an air of pride to accompany it…

The inclusion that despite being a favourite in the monastery, Narcissus is relatively lonely because of his superiority (whether that was his intention or not) is very important to me - being clever, beautiful, and refined is not automatically enough for people to actually become friends with you, and there is a loneliness that accompanies being better at things than others — ‘Yet few, apart from the scholars, really became friends with him, and his superiority enveloped him like a chilling cloud.’ Ooooffff understood.

Honestly, the entire conversation between the abbot and Narcissus deserves a goddamn essay of its own, but I don’t want to do that… So I’ll say this: To me this conversation feels like a trap. The abbot, though simple and not particularly scholarly, is highly aware of Narcissus’ capabilities and doesn’t wish his talents to be wasted, but he acknowledges also that the youth’s talents do not need to be pushed - to be a visionary is to put yourself at great risk in many different ways (and this conversation in particular had me thinking back to Johanka’s part of ‘A Woman’s Lot’ DLC from KCD, I had a lot of Johanka thoughts during this conversation, and anyone else who’s played will surely understand me), and the abbot truly doesn’t want Narcissus to fall into blind belief - “Even pious and kindly visions can deceive. Do not rely upon them, even as I do not.” - but the way he then turns to call him ‘Brother Visionary’ is so interesting to me… It makes his final dismissal of Narcissus particularly important, as he uses his name, not any form of brother or my son, instead we get a lovely closing in the same way the conversation began, with Narcissus’ name. For Narcissus’ part, he is humble, he is anxious to share his knowledge in this particular sect, even he knows that this conversation could have dire consequences for him and his relationship with the abbot. He asks for punishment in advance, which is denied, and seems utterly unenthused to talk about other people’s destinies. The abbot has to order him, twice, to speak on it, which shows that he is fully aware of the dangerous path he’s walking with this particular conversation… Fascinating…

The immediate shift into an example of Narcissus’ pride when it comes to his certainty that he is right in what he thinks, so much so that he is scolded for not upholding the monastery hierarchy and consistently verbally fighting Father Lorenz… He doesn’t know when to let things go, he doesn’t yield… “And as for you two young scholars, I wish you may never lack for superiors who are more stupid than you! There is no better remedy for pride.” - this absolutely sent me, the fact that he ends on a joke but still keeps an eye on them both because he was still nervous that despite his final intervention they might still be at odds… Abbot Daniel you are already so special to me.

Goldmund’s introduction is so charming, I also immediately liked him just for the instant care and curiosity he shows. The fact that his interest in the tree is also what instantly gets the doorkeeper to like him too… I’m so intrigued by the description of how and why the abbot and principle also like him - ‘The conversation with the two clerics was polite and cool, but both the abbot and the principal looked upon the respectfully silent Goldmund with favour. They immediately liked the handsome boy with the delicate features. As for the father, they felt no regret at his departure the following day, whereas they were glad to keep the son.’ - Idk I just find the inclusion of his looks quite interesting. There’s nothing malicious about it, but there’s certainly a Greek sense of love and care in the monastery, this idea that all the boys are precious, but some more so than others, and Goldmund has immediately been added to that relatively short list of special ones, on his first meeting as well!

Goldmund’s care and love for his horse… His conversation with his horse… Feeding Blaze bread he kept over, specially… Ugh what a sweet boy I also am very fond of him already.

Narcissus and Goldmund’s first meeting, ooohoo. Not even a proper meeting either! I love the way Goldmund is described as appreciating Narcissus, there’s something very childlike and beautiful about it - ‘He was amazed to find such a young teacher, scarcely a few years older than himself - amazed and pleased to find this young teacher so handsome, so distinguished-looking, so serious, yet so attractive and charming.’ - Now… It’s very easy to take this and run with the “GAAYYYY” train of thought, and certainly, there is a queer undertone to this, but let’s move away from that for just a moment. This is a young man, a boy really, taking a moment to truly appreciate beauty - haven’t we all? Appreciation of another human being is natural and instinctual, humans seek beauty wherever they are - in nature, in buildings, in art, in others - and Goldmund is no different. If I were sent to a monastery to learn, I honestly would expect my first teacher (and any teacher really) to be a wizened old monk with a bald patch and perhaps a wrinkle or two, or three, or four… His pleasant surprise is not a surprise to me at all. I’d have been thrilled if I walked into a lecture at university only to be met with Pedro Pascal (it’s just an example, don’t get too deep on this), especially if I was expecting an older and more boring lecturer. I shan’t quote the entire section of Goldmund’s thoughts here, but this page thrills me because it’s such a pure and innocent view. He’s so excited! He can’t wait to make friends and love everyone there, he can’t wait to integrate into the society at the monastery! It’s wonderful and even thrilling to read.

The only thought I had during the fight scene was “ah, boys will be boys”, because yeah, that’s pretty standard no matter where you are. My mum made a ‘Dead Poets Society’ reference, we both instantly picked up that it doesn’t matter if you’re in a boarding school, a monastery, or a goddamn prison, fights are just a given. The fact that Father Martin is also completely unphased by this and just warns Goldmund that next time he will be punished for it (but he’s already ever so fond of the boy - ‘Smiling, he watched the contrite Goldmund running off and trying as he ran to comb his ruffled fair hair with his fingers.’) if it happens again. He doesn’t miss a beat - it’s definitely not the first fight and it won’t be the last. Boys will be boys.

Goldmund’s utter embarrassment at having been caught fighting is so endearing, he’s already regretting it even though it was mostly an instinctual reaction to being carried and laughed at by others - ‘Goldmund was himself of the opinion that his first deed in this monastic life had been pretty stupid and naughty.’ - and listen, the word naughty is very important to me, this is a boy and he is in a new place and already he’s done something silly, my god he’s so bloody human and real I love him. I also love that, actually, he is welcomed at the supper table with 'friendly respect', and he even makes up with his ‘enemy’, because really, it’s just boys being boys and what’s a skirmish to welcome the new kid? Fantastic ending to the first chapter, so much has already been established and there’s still so much to unpack.

[wangxianficrecs]

There's An App For Everything by Sweetlittlevampire

There's An App For Everything

by Sweetlittlevampire (@sweetlittlevampire)

G, 4k, Wangxian

Part of the MDZS Secret Santa 2023

Summary: During the Cultivation Youth Games, Wei Wuxian from YunmengJiang and Lan Wangji from GusuLan get paired up to take down a yao to win points for their respective teams. Which wouldn't be a problem, if Lan Wangji wasn't painfully aware of his big fat crush on Wei Wuxian. It might, in fact, be more than just a crush. The yao decides to interfere, but thankfully, Wei Wuxian...has an app for that. Kay's comments: Oh, I loved this modern cultivation AU! The use of technology in this story was so creative and definitely something I could picture Wei Wuxian doing! In this story, Wangxian were paired up for a team night-hunt during the cultivation youth games. They are great partners of course, but seeing Wei Wuxian in all his genius action, Lan Wangji is also not able to hold back. They were so cute in this story! Excerpt: Wei Wuxian looks up at him, then, and grins. “But Lan Zhan, I am paying attention!” He turns his screen so that Lan Wangji can see. He knows that he’s looking at a talisman design, but Lan Wangji would have to examine it further to find out what exactly it can do. “It’s an app for designing talismans on the go!” Wei Wuxian prattles on. “You know that I love designing them, but I was getting tired of always having to carry talisman paper with me. It gets lost or tears so easily, and I much prefer this! You can copy them onto traditional talisman paper, of course, but this thing stores your design, you can annotate it so you’ll never forget what the different radicals mean and in which order they’re supposed to come. You can make edits at any time, and you can even upload them to a cloud if you’re connected to the internet! Isn’t that great?” Lan Wangji blinks. “There’s an app for making talismans?” Yep!” Wei Wuxian replies. “I was bored last winter so I sat down and researched how to make apps and tinkered with it until I had this.”

pov lan wangji, modern setting, modern with magic, no sunshot campaign, rivals to lovers, competition, getting together, first kiss, no angst, night hunts, fluff, fluff and humor

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[magntx]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀WHAT IS LOVE IF NOT THE WAR WE ENTER WILLINGLY -- OCCASIONALLY BLOODLESS, BUT NEVER QUIET.

⠀ ⠀Magnus had always thought of love in architectural terms. Foundations, cracked. Columns, load-bearing and bowed. The grandeur of impossible domes—unsupported yet standing, because belief held them aloft when physics failed. Magnus was not in bed that morning. The sheets remained barely disturbed, the faintest lingering heat still pooled where he had last lain. The apartment was filled with the soft sounds from a vinyl. The sky outside was bright, but the city oddly quiet. Past the curtains, it became apparent it is still night, barely the sun peeks somewhere at the lick of a horizon. But the stars...  they fall like rain across the empty sky where there are no clouds. They glow with soft halos visible despite the light pollution of the city.

⠀ ⠀A coffee percolated on coils of magnetism. There was a single violet on her bedside table fashioned from a material unknown to her. A flower forged, not grown. The scent-- Something like myrrh and memory. A note. The first of many, she will find.

⠀ ⠀" What gift is worthy of you, мой Полярный Звезда? A crown? A city? My blood, again and again? I find, none suffice. So, first I give you this: the stars will fall when you command them. The planet turns because you walk it. I have sinned, and I am learning how to worship and pray again."

⠀ ⠀He was not a man of gifts but acts. The vinyl whispered an aria to the empty room, all strings and moan, something yearning and old. The vinyl played but there was no sign of him across within the kitchen nor living room.

⠀ ⠀Then came the clues. The coffee still hot. A note. " You already awoke in the first promise and gift. The home, humbly, the world. The second here. You will not hunger. Not the kind that devours. Not the kind we were raised by. " She shall not feel emptiness of belly or soul.

⠀ ⠀The table laid like a chapel of small devotions: breakfast, humble but deliberate; figs, dark bread, marmelades, eggs, whatever her heart desires. Reminders of Greece, France and Russia with snacks from New York's finest local. Prepared just so she could enjoy it while the sky weeps. An open book of Dostoyevsky where the breakfast waited-- his personal, battered edition of The Idiot, pages dog-eared, annotated in the margins in Yiddish, German, and Russian. The ghost of a touch, the familiar electricity of his fingertips, lingered on her back. He was barely hiding.

⠀ ⠀A page folded sharply, where Prince Myshkin says:

⠀ ⠀" To love someone means to see them as God intended them. " And his inked response in the margin: " I see her clearer than God ever dared. "

⠀ ⠀" I could not have you upon our first meeting. And we parted. Those are 20,089 days I could have given you the world. But I suppose the gods needed to humble me first. "

⠀ ⠀Then another note and another gift. A pendant, carved from a meteorite and amber with curls of white imbedded. His presence hovered in the smallest of gestures, his thumbprint visible even in the smallest of things. From a meteorite, carved and cooled in space, pulled into orbit solely for this moment and a shrapnel of his red helmet. He surrenders himself to her, gives up all that was broken and remade into her hands. It is a compass that always points to him. In her grasp, it hovers and points to the coast and horizon. Over the back of the couch lay a sun dress. A particularly fancy knife on a holster just next to it. Another note with the ironwood weapon.

⠀ ⠀" С днем рождения. < -- Happy Birthday -- > Should I fail you, I would deserve no less than this knife as your reckoning. Metal. Yet it does not easily heed my command. Illyana will take you where you need to be. "

⠀ ⠀She would curse him within the hour. More clues but instead of gifts-- riddles. It became more and more scavenger hunt without a sign of him. The arrogance of a king who has stood among emperors and ascended above them-- leading her on with childlike vanity. Riddles-- When the trail grew cold. And hot. And maddening again. Magnus pushed her patience on purpose, revelling in games and tests of patience.

⠀ ⠀Magnus could not help himself. Subtlety was not something he had mastered. His presence pulled at the magnetic spine of the city: traffic lights twitched out of rhythm; fire escapes quivered as he passed. The pigeons seemed to flee his orbit in synchronized spirals.

⠀ ⠀And eventually, the clues drag her to Island M where the Northern Lights have the sky in tears. Dropped off by Illyana. Where he stands patiently at the cliffs of the castle abode.

-- { @belayadeaths }

[candy--cloudss]

A new series on the Ms. Candy B. Clouds Blog... The Fashion of 'Better Be Good to Me'!

I decided I'd unpack some of the choices I made when writing the fic and designing Robin's outfits... so I'm gonna start with the basic Robin fit. This is the default state of Robin, and what she wears in Chapter 1.

Robin's colour is definitely pink. In fact, most of her outfits are going to either be pink or black. Pink is commonly associated with femininity, which is something Robin rather intensely aspires to as a transgender woman. Pink is a colour that suits her light mahogany hair, it compliments the reddish tint of her hair very well, and the pastel pink is similar in brightness to her hair. Black goes well with pink, it provides a sense of sophistication to the otherwise childish pastel pink, and some balance to all the pastels in her design.

Robin's default hairstyle is curtain bangs, with two long curly low pigtails behind her. It gives her a very droopy silhouette, the curls of the pigtails have always reminded me of a weeping willow. In fact, most of her design is meant to droop and billow in the wind. She has a lot of stuff hanging off her. I added a bow to her hair to balance out the droopy hairstyle, which is best seen in this older picture I drew of her.

Robin's makeup in both of these (lowkey rather old) pictures is heavily drag inspired. I'd say the biggest contributors are Morgan McMichaels, Kim Chi and Jorgeous. Of course, over the years, I've changed Robin's makeup a lot, so now it's much less graphic and more soft, but these were the inspirations at the time. I've especially thinned her brows, which were uniquely thick among my other OCs for a while.

Robin's hair is streaked with pink, much like the older versions of Draculaura from Monster High. They even have the pigtails in common!

As for her outfit, I'd credit Mami Tomoe's magical girl outfit from Puella Magi Madoka Magica as its main inspiration. Obviously, there are some rather key differences, the colour palette and the shoes, but the concept of the underbust corset and pleated skirt definitely get traced back to her. Even the curly pigtails can get traced back to Mami! They read hyperfeminine and cutesy, but with a sense of maturity.

Now, why does Robin wear this when she does in the fic? ...It's the first time we meet her, of course she's gonna be in her main outfit. Duh. It helps to establish Robin's dedication to her image, knowing that she was wearing a corset, tights and heels while fighting a Titan. She is committed to serving glamour and puss for as long as she remains on this planet, no matter how uncomfortable she may be in it. She's used to discomfort at this point.

Now, one of Robin's major fashion motifs is established with her first outfit, the huge bell sleeves. Robin generally wears long, flowy sleeves, which make her look much, much larger than she really is. She takes up a lot more space with huge, billowing sleeves. Combine that with the fact that it gives her the illusion of wings (and her name is Robin, wink wink) and it was an obvious choice for her. Robin generally takes up a lot of space in the rooms she's in. Arven is rather intimidated by her when they first meet, and her rapid-fire conversation skills and quick wit only add to that feeling. She's imposing. She's powerful. She takes up a lot of space in their first few conversations, which is only matched by how much space her huge sleeves take up. But when those sleeves come off... Well, we'll see how she's portrayed when that happens.

Here's a TL:DR annotated picture of Robin's design for the road. Thanks for reading! Smooches!

[leifygreeens]

hello!! your writings are so fun to read!!

if its alright with you, could i please request maru x penny x gn! farmer !! it could be general headcanons or anything. maybe it could be like how they would prepare for and celebrate bdays? i think thatd be cute and maybe chaotic xD up to you >:3

Hey!! Sorry this is so overdue (I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot about the ask atp, my bad).

I really hope you like this, I'm sorry it's taken me so damn long to get this out to you, and as always, thank you for your request. I hope you have a lovely day, Anne! <3

Warnings: Fluffy as hell. That's it. Enjoy!

For birthdays and anniversaries, Maru and Penny will ask that you get home early, and get ready to go into town

You’ll shower, dress up a little more than usual, and walk to the Saloon

Maru and Penny reserve the private dining space, because the volume of the saloon is a little much when you’re looking for something intimate and personal

Gus is always happy to have you, and goes out of his way to make sure your dinner goes smoothly

He gives free desserts and drinks, as well, and will bring them to you with a grin

When dinner is finished, and you’ve all gone home, Penny and Maru will sit you down in the living room, and bring you their gifts

Penny typically goes for sentimental pieces, like annotated books and trinkets that hint at an inside joke or two, paired with heartfelt letters

Maru is less sappy, but just as sincere with her gifts

She’ll commonly gift you with machines she’s built to make your lives easier, or the occasional items she caught you staring at a little too long during your trips to the city

After presents, you’ll watch movies for a portion of the night, and when the light of day finally fades away, Maru and Penny will drag you up to the loft

“The loft” used to be the attic of the farmhouse, until Robin deconstructed the walls and the ceiling into an open air space, and cut out some bits of the roof to account for the windows to make some skylights

Cushioned with plenty of blankets and pillows that Penny thrifted or made herself, it’s a pretty cozy space

But you’ll climb up the ladder steps as a trio, and make yourselves comfortable

You always take the middle, with Maru and Penny on either side of you

There's several personalized things up there, like the mini bookshelf Penny and Maru use for their books (Maru loves her academic books, and Penny fills her shelves with classic and modern literature of all genres)

There's also a spot up there for your pets, and plenty of potted plants for extra greenery

Maru and Penny's favorite part of the loft is the bedded space, however

But anyway

Maru has her telescope up there, and (weather allowing) Maru will open one of the windows and you’ll stargaze

Sometimes Penny makes up stories for constellations, or tells you the stories she does know

You’ll point out stars or clouds of color in the night sky, and Maru will tell you exactly what they are, how they form, and she can tell you what they’re named, as well

But on the days where the weather isn’t so perfect, and the stars are obscured, the windows will stay closed, and you’ll watch the rain pitter against the glass or the lightning arc across the sky

On those days, you’ll talk about anything, everything

Or, if you prefer the quiet, Maru and Penny are content to just lay back and enjoy the sky with you

If your birthday or anniversary is in the winter, and the window has frosted over, then Penny will read to you

She always lets you pick the book you want her to read, and if you're feeling cheeky, you'll make her read one of those really sappy romance books she loves so much

Penny can never get through a reading without blushing like a madwoman, even later on in your marriage

It gives you and Maru more ammo to tease her, later ;)

You'll stay up there for the rest of the night, in a giant cuddle pile, sleeping comfortably in each other's arms

It’s safe, and cozy, and you wouldn't have it any other way

[kagiura-akira]

A non-exhaustive list of all the times meatbun has compared Chu Wanning to a tree, prior to volume 7 (The Husky and His White Cat Shizun Seven Seas paperback English first editions, 2023—2024):

Volume 1, tree counter: ?

Volume 2, tree counter: 1

Page 49: "His principles being what they were, Chu Wanning was like a wooden man"

Volume 3, tree counter: 2

Page: ??

"Chu Wanning, are you made of wood? Do you know what it's like to feel sad, to be selfish? Do you... Chu Wanning... Chu Wanning..."

Page 374:

"A great tree like this did not quiver charmingly like flowers, stirring affection in people's hearts. Not did it sway gently in the breeze like a string of vines, seductive and enticing. He only stood in silence and severity, steady and dependable, wordlessly blocking wind and rain for those who passed by, allowing those under its branches to hide from the scorching sun."

Volume 4, tree counter: 1

Page 116:

"Chu Wanning stared at him in a daze: at those dark eyebrows and that shapely jawline, at those bright eyes and that straight nose. He had grown into an impressive pine tree, matching Chu Wanning's height before overtaking him. One day, the tree that was Chu Wanning, which had stood in the wind and rain for so long, woke up, blinked, and found that the rain had ceased, the clouds had dispersed, and in the soft light of the sun, there was another tree standing beside him, even taller and steadier than he. When the wind rustled through its leaves, the sunlight filtered through like gold dust."

Volume 5, tree counter: 2

Page 149:

"He's a man carved from wood, he's got no conscience to speak of. See now—any normal person would have a few friends, right? But look at Chu Wanning. At fifteen he turned his back on Master Huaizui's sect, and he's been on his own ever since. Is there anyone in this wide world who would claim him as a friend?"

Page 281-282:

"Mi Ran didn't push. He knew Chu Wanning's temperament; if he wanted to do something himself, as long as the situation wasn't dire, it was best to let him have his way. This man, accustomed to being a towering tree, wasn't used to relying on others. He could only make Chu Wanning feel comfortable and at ease by staying at his side and standing alongside him."

Volume 6, tree counter: 2 (as of chapter 188)

Page 62:

"That night, Chu Wanning had no recollection of returning to Sisheng Peak. He felt wooden, mindless; the only thing he remembered was how they had embraced, panting in the dark before parting at the Red Lotus Pavilion."

Page 92 (I counted it as a half)

Page 96:

"Chu Wanning wanted to reply, to fire back a fierce retort. Even if he could only manage a few words, that would be sufficient. But he couldn't speak at all, as though his brain was made of wood."

I'm only partway through my reread of volume 6 and I'm not sure if I had actually annotated all of the metaphors in the prior volumes or when I started making a habit of pointing out all the tree references, but I believe that Mo Ran called him wooden at least once or twice in the earlier books—i just can't remember where.

To be continued...(?)

[gogandmagog]

Thanks to some friends at the Lucy Maud Montgomery institute (what up, University of PEI), I was recently put on to the ‘100th Anniversary Scholarly Annotated Anne of Green Gables,’ and you guys… you know how the Grinch’s heart ‘grew three sizes’ that one Christmas in Whoville? Well, similarly, my little brain grew three sizes by the time I was even a quarter of the way through that book.

I cannot recommend it enough, to any dedicated Anne fans. I’s guess I personally still need several months, to fully process everything.

Lucy Maud!!! She was so so so… deep, and thoughtful, and capable of weaving together stories of such intricacies that one scarcely can begin realize what seeds are being planted. The stealth feminism that is so natural and abundant, because feminism is natural and abundant.

In the annotated book (so many contributors to credit, I’ll update this post for sure when it’s somewhere less than midnight), we learn so much. You see things you provably never saw before.

And a major disclaimer right here, before the cut, because I’m doing by best here to summarize a level of absurd genius that is not necessarily easy to grapple, and HEAVY quoting the brilliance of this piece, and other essays others have written on this piece, so pls understand that 0% of what’s coming was borne of my own insight. Just straight up copy/paste behavior here. And also, consider doing yourself a favor at this point by sitting down or holding on to something.

From the jump, the ‘100th ANNEiversay Scholarly ANNEotated Book’ outlines Montgomery's evolution of the first Anne text drafts to make very deliberate and clearly feminist points.

For example, as they say, it is one of the first (perhaps the very first) bildungsromans about a woman who comes of age in mind and spirit as well as in body and community. “In traditional European symbolism, men get associated with sky and spirit, women with earth and body.” In the long, lyrical passages that describe the beauty of Prince Edward Island, Montgomery begins with the trees and the flowers -- which she scoured Canadian and American sources to find feminine vernacular names for -- like "Lady's Slipper." Masculine flower names, such as "Bachelor's Button," are changed out for "aster" or for feminine alternatives. Anne usually gives them feminine personal names too, "Snow Queen" we are looking at you. Sometimes LMM writes the masculine name in her first-pass manuscript and later comes back with a neutral or feminine alternative. She was purposefully locating the feminine in the flowers and then -- in just about every passage describing flowers at length -- she expands the focus to the sky. Sunsets, stars, sunrises, clouds, all of that symbolically extends Anne from the bodily world of the earth into the spiritual and intellectual world symbolized by the sky. A traditionally masculine world. It's deliberately transgressive. She isn't just waxing poetic about the vast beauty of Canada; she's locating Anne within a symbolic structuring of the world where Anne, crucially, has an emotional and intellectual life that is put on an equal plane with traditional masculine coming-of-age stories ... but without denigrating the femininity of the earth. She also applies flower words to the sky itself, describing its colors as "marigold" and "saffron" and so on. The down-to-earth stories of women doing women's work is a feminist point, that Anne can dream and learn and love and go to college and teach, but she can also sew and weave and care for children and become a wife and mother. She uses a symbolic structure of Earth Mother/Sky Father that dates back to Plato and that reaches its full flower in the Romantic poets that Anne loves -- in order to subvert it and locate women and men on an equal footing, and to make the claim for young women reaching for the profoundly-metaphorical stars.

Anne appears in spring, like Persephone, and starts bringing Avonlea to life -- and almost the first thing she does in Avonlea is wear live flowers into the church. HEY SYMBOL OF PATRIARCHY, HAVE SOME FEMININITY IN UR TEMPLES. The actual Prince of Wales College in Charlottetown becomes Queens College -- COLLEGE IS FOR LADIES, YO.

Quotations in Montgomery are never JUST the apt point to the moment, but virtually always point to the larger work the quotation comes from and, if you know the reference, underlines her themes or make deeper points about the characters or situations. (Like referencing the masculine romantic epics that Anne loves, to make the point that Anne is going through the same quest, just like a boy.) Names too -- Biblical Anne is the mother of Mary -- Marilla -- who in the book is a virgin-become-mother, who both mothers Anne and is mothered by her as Anne helps give birth to Marilla's long-repressed true self. Rachel Lynde, as in Judaism, stands for fertility, the mother of Avonlea, a symbol of plenty and fecundity and earthy women -- it's no accident she's fat and poor love-starved Marilla is thin. Diana is a pagan, sensual girl, who is always described as wearing (or eating) something red, and is the only character in the book to get drunk. Her physicality is sometimes set against Anne's spirituality -- but not too much, because this isn't a book about either/or but about both/and when it comes to the physical and spiritual.

It's a book about mutually-supportive relationships between and among women and how that love helps them self-actualize. There's only ever room for one man at a time in these novels -- not until Matthew dies can Gilbert enter Anne's life, because men are so secondary to the narrative in Anne, which is about the webs of support that women weave to support and uplift each other, to hold together communities, to make it possible for women to become fully self-actualized, spiritual, intellectual, bodily people.

I think, in some ways, it would have been a bit of a cheat for Anne to become a famous writer, because a large point the novel makes is not that women can be just like men, but that women are fully-actualized human beings as women and don't have to imitate men; that the world of women is rich and valuable, and that women are not thereby less intelligent or less spiritual than men. Having her become a wife and mother, as most women of that era did, and leading a rich, fulfilling life in that role is probably a more fit ending to Anne's story than if she'd been "exceptional," since Lucy Maud Montgomery's (hereafter to be known as literary Beyoncé) entire point is that it's not just the rare, unusual woman who has a rich interior life -- it's all women.

[afpwestcoast]

The UC Theatre, Berkeley, CA, 12/31/23

As I was about to board my flight from Portland down to Oakland who should run up - after boarding was well in progress - but Amanda Fucking Palmer herself, with a large bag from Powell’s Books over her shoulder, which is so on-brand it’s not even funny. The whole crew was on the same flight with me. Cosmic coincidences.

The inimitable Kat Robichaud dominated as Mistress of Ceremonies, and she brought along some friends from the Misfit Cabaret, so this promised to be a great night from the start.

Kat kicked things off with her original song Charade, then The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence provided a series of short, pithy blessings for the new year that managed to be funny, touching, and queer in equal measure.

Snatch Adams did an amazing burlesque routine involving a leaf blower and a giant balloon that she somehow got completely inside … and then removed her clothes.

Another original from Kat, and an extremely sexy dance from Aurora Rose, and it was time for the Dresden Dolls.

In 2017 Amanda did an NYE show a week after having a miscarriage and barely made it through the show. This show was similarly performed amidst some personal tragedy. Amanda had just learned that a good friend from New Zealand - whom she was actually en route to go visit - had died suddenly and tragically. And the longtime landlord / den mother of the artist collective Cloud Club, where Amanda “grew up” as an artist, was in hospice on his death bed (he passed early on the 2nd). While she did talk about this a little on stage for the most part she just powered through and delivered a killer show.

My favorite way to ring in the new year is with Amanda and/or the Dolls, and this show went a long way towards explaining why. Flamboyantly talented people providing astounding spectacle; who could ask for anything more? Halfway through the show my friend Nikki turned to me and said, “I can’t imagine being happier than I am right now!” I couldn’t agree more.

Annotated Set List:

Good Day (Brian on guitar to start)

Sex Changes

Gravity

Modern Moonlight

My Alcoholic Friends

Shores of California

Welcome to the Internet (Bo Burnham cover) - Before this song Amanda often asks, “Are there any young people in the audience?” and she typically chooses one to serenade during the ‘Waiting for YOOOOOU!’ bridge. Tonight this turned into a bit of a bidding war in which we started at 18 and worked our way down to 5. At one point Brian became an auctioneer, “I’ve got 16 here do I hear 15? 14! 14 going once, can I get … 13 over here!”

Mandy Goes to Med School

Amanda said she wanted to repeat the collective primal scream they had done last NYE, and while that’s true the tradition actually started at the very first solo show Amanda did in the States post COVID in August of ‘22.

“Close your eyes, and on the count of three I would like you to scream as loudly as possible to release the good, the bad, the ugly, the better, the unfulfilled, the loneliness, the whatever you fucking went through last year it’s now gone and you’ve got about an hour to sit with it if you wanna be sad or happy and then it’s all gonna go away and we’re gonna go into 2024 into a bucket of unicorn dreams!”

PRIMAL SCREAM!!

Mister God

Amanda said that she and Whitney had come up with a working title for the new Dresden Dolls album: Downer Bangers (“That was my nickname in high school!” quipped Nikki.)

“I found out this morning that a really good friend of mine from New Zealand just died really suddenly and tragically, and I’m in the middle of losing someone else in my life, and it’s just one of those days where you’re like, ‘This is happening, and I still have to play a show.’ This has happened to me enough that I know how to do it, but I’ve gotta tell you that it’s still really weird to get up in front of everybody while I’m going through what I’m going through. And here’s the great thing about being in the Dresden Dolls: I have a song for that! So I’m gonna play it.”

Houdini

Another Christmas (Brian on guitar, Amanda on jingle bells)

Amsterdam (Jacques Brel cover) (Brian on guitar, Amanda on beer) - At the beginning of the second stanza Amanda lost track of the lyrics. “In the port of Amsterdam, there’s a sailor who … ”

“Dies!” I helpfully yelled

“Dies … sorry, Tom.”

Hey don’t apologize to me; I live for this shit!

Missed Me - Brian has taken to really going all out on this one, often performing entire melodramatic vignettes. Tonight he just … left. Got up, left the stage, disappeared. He has played with briefly “leaving” during this song, but this time he was just gone. And Amanda had no idea what was going on. She was talking to the crowd - he’s really gone, I’m all alone, what do I do? sort of thing - when a large, potted plant crept up behind her. As Brian was creeping about the stage hiding behind the plant like a cartoon villain Amanda said, “This is the same guy who during soundcheck was like, ‘Let’s keep the intro really short.’” The antics went on so long that Amanda got flustered and got confused about where they were in the song. She looked at me and asked, “Is this right?” I gave her a big thumbs up.

Backstabber

Astronaut (A Brief History of Nearly Nothing) (Amanda Palmer cover)

Mrs. O - Quick restart after Amanda thought she detected a medical issue in the crowd, something that happened at both the LA and SD shows earlier in the month. It was a false alarm, and the band played on.

Delilah (featuring Kat Robichaud AND Whitney Moses (the OG!)) - Double Delilahs for double the pathos. Before starting Amanda entreated the crowd to sing along. “I want you to sing this song tonight for someone who needs it. And that someone might be you.”

Sing - Amanda was keeping one eye on the clock and the tempo on this one was a bit faster than normal so they could get it in before …

MIDNIGHT! Balloon drop! General pandemonium!

(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (To Party!) (Beastie Boys cover) - Everyone on stage!

Coin-Operated Boy

War Pigs (Black Sabbath cover)

——

Girl Anachronism

Photo Gallery: Preshow family portrait.

Destiney performed as a living statue before the show.

Snatch Adams, ladies and gentlemen.

The Dresden Dolls!

Welcome to the Internet

Another Christmas

Amsterdam!

Sometimes you just can’t see the drummer through the trees.

Dual Delilahs!

MIDNIGHT!!!

Submitted without comment.

Good night!

Traditional selfie with Whitney Moses and post-show family selfie featuring Michael!

[leahsfiction]

happy gushiwensday saturday!!! we didn't post a translation last week, and that's because... we had to take two weeks with Song politician Wang Anshi's "Waves Washing the Sand"! we really needed the extra time to cook!!!

Wang Anshi - To the tune "Waves Washing the Sand"

Yi Yin and Ziya were already old when they rose from poverty to renown. The old fisherman and the indentured farmer (if not for chance meetings at the time) would have withered - unknown - unsung.

Kings Tang and Wu found them out of the blue (winds follow mighty tigers, clouds follow virtuous dragons, we know --) and through merely chatting and laughing found themselves dynasty founders. From back then to now, and who knows how long after, will there be anyone who can even compare!

--

浪淘沙令·伊吕两衰翁

王安石

伊吕两衰翁， 历遍穷通。 一为钓叟一耕佣。 若使当时身不遇， 老了英雄。

汤武偶相逢， 风虎云龙。 兴王只在谈笑中。 直至如今千载后， 谁与争功！

Notes!

In the context of Wang Anshi's life & career, Baike says this poem is in praise of Emperor Shenzong of Song for favouring him and allowing him to enact sweeping reforms. I wanted to give a bit of a flippant tone to my translation alongside the self-congratulatory vibes.

Yi Yin and Jiang Ziya (Lv Shang) - two legendary ministers to King Tang of Shang and Kings Wen and Wu of Zhou, respectively. The legends don't say whether or not Yi Yin was old when he met King Tang, but the point of the poem isn't historical fidelity.

老了英雄 - literally something like "would have grown old, heroes" - idk - this is super grammatically interesting and impactful? But I had to rewrite it to make my interpretation more clear, and also to avoid reusing "old".

风虎云龙 - literally just "wind tiger cloud dragon" - according to the Baike annotation refers to a metaphor from the Yijing (I-Ching) for virtuous ministers and rulers. I interpreted it as a kind of natural law? As in, powerful and virtuous rulers attract wise ministers simply by possessing those qualities.

[just-a-tiny-goldfish]

This or that

Thanks @taciturntempest 💕I adore these!

indoor plants or gardens // cloud-watching or star-gazing // water or fire // paperback (I also love annotating but I like it pliable haha) or hardcover // running or hiking (hate running) // sleeping with socks or without socks // fruit or vegetables (I rlly like both tho…) // hanging plants or succulents // dark wood or light wood // handwritten or typed // instagram or pinterest // braids or pigtails // DC or marvel (SUPERMAN!) // books or movies (i prefer books but def watch more movies) // oceans or meadows (to look at…I can’t swim…) // forests or fields // sweet or salty // ice cream or chocolate (just no chocolate ice cream or milk. I hate those) // hoodies or sweaters // long hair or short hair (i only have long hair because it looks better in me then short😔) // piercings or tattoos // summer or winter // boots or sneakers // cars or motorcycles // curls or straight hair ( god I wish I had curls) // castles or cottages // sunny days or storms // reptiles or birds (I thought birds were reptiles? 🤷‍♀️ at some point my sister had a python—the thing was cute, they were called cilantro) // disney or nickelodeon // strawberries or watermelon // essay or posters // phones or laptops // glass or stone // dark or light // photos or painting // circuses or theaters // reading or writing // dogs or cats // poetry or novels // monsters or ghosts (😏) // thrift shops or libraries // fiction or non-fiction

Tags!: @iggydabirdkid @stellamancer @aya-m3k @dorkousloris @wonda-ch @hypnostanatos @extreme-neutral @currently-evil @calnexin @ladyshivs

:3 have fun if you do this! 💕💕💕

[projectjuvia]

idk if anyones pointed this out but while i was annotating sugar cloud i realised the contrast between these lyrics

jane and constance have always been super interesting, contrasting characters to me and i think this sums it up really welll

both songs are, to a certain extent about uncertainty

janes entire existence is an enigma, she doesnt know or understand who she is and its unclear whether she even has a soul with her, her lyric is dark and almost haunting as she questions if her soul is rotting away - she wonders if she will ever get it back and alongside it, her identity

constances lyric is about the uncertainty she used to feel before her epiphany as she was dying on the cyclone - she felt it all along but it was only during the accident where she became sure of it, making the accident out to be positive which couldn't be more different than janes perspective as her situation is pretty much the opposite of an epiphany

along with this, constance being so positive about the accident that took away janes everything makes it seem like jane should resent her but she does pretty much the opposite whereas constance cant stand jane, which is a pretty interesting role reverse