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stumped-on-bennington · 4 months

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Chasing Buses

Summary: You go to work expecting it to be just like any other day, little do you know that this job will chance the course of your life forever.

Pairing: Patrick Stump x Reader

Author's note: I haven't written fanfiction in like 5 years so im out of practice when it comes to this lol. regardless i hope you enjoy it! and feel free to leave some constructive criticism so that i can hopefully improve!

Another day of work. That was all today was supposed to be. Your job wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t that bad either. You worked for a tour bus company. Your job was to ride along with the band and bus driver throughout the tour and to help keep the bus stocked with drinks, food, and whatever else the band requested. Basically, you were a glorified gofer.

You’ve toured with tons of bands before. Some were super easy and nice and some treated you like garbage. Even the bands who didn’t even acknowledge you were better than the latter, and it was always the bands that would put so much effort into how they appeared to fans. You didn’t have a very wide range in terms of music taste, so when those types of bands would be on your bus and would find out that you didn’t listen to their music, that's when they would start looking down on you.

You headed to the pick up spot with your luggage for the tour. Turns out you would be in charge of two buses this time. From what your boss told you, this band had 4 members and they would be riding 2 and 2 in each bus, so you would need to take inventory at each venue so you could figure out what you needed to pick up for each bus. As you approached, you noticed that it looked like only 2 of the members were there. They were both relatively short men, probably just about the same height as you, if not just an inch or two taller. One was slightly chubby, with his ginger hair peeking out from under a slightly crooked trucker hat. The other was more lean with shoulder length hair and a labret piercing. They were just standing outside the buses, looking around and texting on their phones, looking a little frantic. It was already 11:45 and they needed to get out of there by 12 in order to make it to the first venue on time.

“Hey, uh.. You guys in the band?” You say, walking up to the two.

“Oh, yeah, I'm Patrick and this is Andy.” said the ginger man as he motioned towards the other, “We’re just waiting on two others, they should be here pretty soon.”

You nodded your head and headed towards one of the buses to put your stuff away. After picking one of the bunks and throwing your bags in it, you walked back out the bus to hear a car screeching as it pulled up. Two more men hopped out, one with the really curly hair instantly went to the trunk to grab their bags while the other man, the one with dark emo hair, got out and shouted back into the car, “Thanks mom! I’ll make sure to call you!” The Woman in the car waved at all the boys before pulling off. Patrick waved and yelled “Bye, Ms. Wentz!” as she drove away.

"Great,” you thought, “now that the others are here we can start getting on the road and get a head start in travel.” Before you can get a chance to introduce yourself to the other two, they are pushing each other, yelling, and running onto one of the buses; coincidentally, the bus that you had already put your stuff down in. “Great.” you think. You momentarily think about getting your bag and moving it into the other bus with the two more tame men, but before you can even fully consider the idea the leading driver steps out and tells you all that it is time to leave. Hesitantly you get on the bus where the two lunatics are.

Stepping on the bus you find that the two have already started to make themselves at home. They already have their bags open and strewn about the sitting area and one of them is already smoking a bowl. You Sigh at the mess that is already in front of you and the thought of what is to come.

Just then the emo looking one approaches you. “So, uh… who are you?” he asks.

“I’m Y/N. I work for the bus company.” You say.

“Shit, we got a babysitter??” The curly haired one says, after talking a rip off his pipe.

“I'm just a gofer. Whatever you guys need on the bus, I’ll get it.” You tell them.

“Oh, sweet! So like anything? You can get us ANYTHING?” the emo one asks.

“Anything that is legal, yes.” You inform him.

He shrugs at your response and takes a seat next to the other man, plopping down on the sofa. “So, Y/N. Tell me, is this a dream come true for you?” He asks.

“What?” You ask, a little taken aback by the odd question.

“You know. You look to be in your 20s, you dress pretty alt,” He motions to your black tee shirt with white long sleeve under and your baggy jeans. “So you have to be into Fall Out Boy. You must be pretty stoked to be touring along with THE Pete Wentz,” He points to himself, “and Joe Trohman.” he points to the other man.

You laugh at the assumption, gaining a raised eyebrow from Pete. “What? What's so funny?” He asks.

You compose yourself before speaking, “I have no idea who you guys are, dude! I don’t have time to listen to music because of the restraints of my job. The only thing I get to listen to is whatever the driver listens to on the road, which usually happens to be Aerosmith.” You say, nodding a head towards the driver’s seat. Pete and Joe look at you for a second, then each other, then once again back at you.

“Sweet!” They both say in unison. “It’ll be great to have someone our age to hang around that doesn’t care who we are. It’s impossible to talk to anyone who isn’t in the band without them freaking out and having a moment.” Pete says. You laugh at the excitement the two express at the thought of making a new friend.

After getting settled in a little bit, Pete and Joe tell you more about themselves and the other members of the band. You learn that Pete and Andy are both 26 and Joe and Patrick are both 21, they're from a city just outside of Chicago, and that Patrick is single and that you are “totally his type” as Pete puts it. You roll your eyes at this comment. You're used to getting hit on in your line of work, it comes with the territory of spending months on buses full of men. You choose not to mix work and relationships, knowing that it just gets messy and leads to people getting hurt, plus the last thing you need is your boss to find out your helping the clients out in that way.

Before you know it you're already pulling up to the venue bus parking. You take a quick inventory of both the buses and make a list of anything that needs to be restocked. While the crew are getting the stage set up, you get in the rental car that your company sets to be delivered at each venue for you specifically to do your job. You make the run to the store, making sure to get enough water, snacks, and other meal items for both the buses. You make sure to follow the special requests that were left for you, like making sure to get a selection of vegan options for Andy, and even pick up a few extra things for yourself, like your favorite candies. Once you’re all done with your shopping, you get loaded into the car and drive back to the venue. It’s still a little early so the parking lot isn't too bad, but there are a few really dedicated fans who are already lining up at the front door. You pull around to the restricted back and flash your badge at the security, who lets you drive right through.

When you pull up to the buses you see that the band members are standing right outside, playing around with some toy that Pete had brought with him. As you step out and walk around to the trunk of the car, Patrick instantly perks up and rushes over, “Hey, let me help you!” He says, Grabbing a few of the bags from the trunk and bringing them towards the buses.

“One second!” you say to Patrick before he enters either of the buses. You walk over and double check the bags that he is carrying. “Okay, these ones go on Pete and Joe’s bus. The rest should go for you and Andy, and then we can put a case of water on each bus.” Patrick nods at these instructions and carries the bags onto the appropriate bus while you bring yours to the other. You get everything put away and then head back out to get the case of water for the bus. As you walk out you see Patrick coughing a bit as he steps off the other bus, he quickly walks over to you.

“You’re ok with them smoking on the bus?” He asks you.

“They paid extra to be able to, so I can’t really object to it.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulders. Patrick looks at you with a frown on his face.

“Besides, I was planning on moving over to your bus before we take off from the venue tonight. Something tells me that no matter how well I hide some of my snacks, Pete is going to end up finding them.” You say, earning a chuck from Patrick. “Yeah,” he says, “Pete has a nose like a doberman, you can't keep anything from him.”

By the time you get the groceries all put away the guys are already off to the sound check. You use the down time to move your things from your original bus to Patrick’s bus, and then make your way backstage to watch some of the show. You pick a spot just off the side of the stage where you won’t be in the way. The concert starts and you learn real quick why Pete was surprised you didn’t know who they were. They freaking rock! Every song is something amazing and Patrick’s voice, oh man can he sing! You were truly taken aback by their music.

As they played, you must have had a look of amazement, because when Patrick looked over at you he had the biggest smile on his face. Pete, noticing the beaming smile that Patrick had and looked in the direction he kept glancing at. It was like Pete could smell the electric bond that you two were sharing in the moment and knew what he had to do.

When the show ended you were grinning ear to ear as Patrick walked up to you.

“So I take it that you liked the show?” he asked.

“You guys are really something! When I first saw you I had no idea you had such a beautiful singing voice!” you say.

Patrick blushes slightly at the comment, “T-thanks, I'm really happy that you enjoyed it.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. As you walk with Patrick back to the buses, you hear what sounds like a raging bull running towards you from behind. As you both look back you see Pete and Joe carrying a yelling and kicking Andy, running with him towards the buses. Before either you or Patrick have time to question what they were doing, Pete and Joe carry Andy onto their bus and slam the door. Before you know it, the bus starts taking off. Confused, both you and Patrick rush to get on the other bus in order to follow after them.

“What was that about?” you ask Patrick.

“I have no idea, but knowing Pete and Joe, it's probably not going to end well.” He says, sitting next to you on the sofa in the shared space. Just then you feel your phone go off. It’s a text from Pete, “when the hell did he put his number in my phone?” You say as you open the text.

Pete: enjoy the free time w/ trick xoxo ;)

You sigh at the text, knowing now that Pete is absolutely crazy.

Just then Patrick also gets a text.

Pete: make some moves and make them count. andy is pissed and i dont want it to be for nothin >:)

Patrick blushes at the text. Realizing how his friends were trying to set him up.

You both sit there awkwardly for a minute, unsure of what to say.

Patrick clears his throat, “so, uh, Y/N… What are you into? Like do you have any hobbies or favorite movies?”

You shift in your seat slightly, still feeling the awkward tension. “Well, I play bass and draw a bit, but I don’t usually have a whole lot of time to enjoy those things, being on the road most of the time makes it hard to get a break where I can practice.” You say, rubbing the back of your neck. “As for favorite movies, I mostly like stuff from the 80s, so The Goonies, Top Gun, Indiana Jones and The Breakfast Club. but my all time favorite movie is Ghostbusters.”

Patrick instantly sat up with excitement, “Really? Ghostbusters is my favorite too! I basically have all the words memorized. What's your favorite line?”

“Yes it's true,” you begin to say. Patrick knows exactly what line you're referring to and joins in, saying it in unison with you. “This man has no dick!” You both laugh with excitement over your shared interest. Talking more and finding out you have a lot in common.

Soon the buses pull up to a gas station to refuel, allowing everyone to get down for snacks and to stretch their legs. You and Patrick happily hop off the bus, still chatting and laughing.

Pete, Joe, and Andy also get off their bus and begin walking towards you too. Andy looks defeated, tired, and his face and hair are covered in dead bugs.

“Andy, what happened to you??” Patricks asks.

“Their whole bus smells like weed. I couldn't handle it.” Andy said with an exhausted tone.

“Dude spent the entire ride with his head out the window. I know he's straight edge, but we didn’t even smoke at all while he was with us.” Pete says, budding in.

You and Patrick help to get Andy back onto your bus so he can clean his face and rest,

“Oh hey, I actually brought my copy of Ghostbusters with me! We can pop it in the DVD player on the bus and watch it together!.. I-if you want.” Patrick says, stuttering a little bit at the end, realizing how what he just asked sounds like a bit of a date.

“Oh hell, yea!” you say, “Wait, I have the perfect snacks for us to share!” You say, retrieving your secret stash. You open the bag, revealing the assortment of black liquorice, hi-chews, and butterscotch drops. Patrick’s heart skips a beat seeing all his favorite candies. You set up the sofa with pillows and blankets and make it super cozy as Patrick gets the TV set up. You both watch the movie, laughing and reciting every line, word for word together. By the end of the end of the movie you’ve both fallen asleep, cuddled into each other and holding on as if your lives depended on it.

From that night forward, you and Patrick were inseparable.

Bonus!:

Andy: guys let me back on your bus please

Pete: why? i thought you didnt like our bus?

Andy: they put on ghostbusters and it's unbearable. i feel like i'm listening to it in stereo

Andy: *Image attachment*

Andy: they fell asleep finally, but i already know theyre going to be doing this every night. trade me buses plz

Pete: aww look at them, so cute

Andy: pete plz

Pete: sux 2 sux. Xoxo <3

#fall out boy #fob #x reader #patrick stump #patrick stump fic #patrick stump x reader #patrick vaughn stump #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley #fan fiction #fanfic #bandom #trick fic

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dinosinthedark · 1 month

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Man. I've had such a whirlwind of stupid shit happen lately. I finally got to a point to get my ass started on a dating hiatus. I had another visit with ADC. Basically I apologized for being straight up rude and mean to him last time I was over at his house. He responded nicely right away and acknowledged my apology, but then baited me into further conversation. I obviously took the bait. My original intention wasn't to get a response, it was to simply apologize..ended up over at his house. I was so angry at him and told him as much, and he was confused why I even came over. And I told him, I'm here to show you I am a 10/10 and you'll see what you're missing out on. But fuck you. He got me fucked up with it though. He was the perfect lover and I enjoyed myself and we had dinner together, watched a movie, cuddled on the couch this whole thing. We talked about music and Instagram and pictures and he started following me on Instagram.... But like, if you say we aren't going to fuck again(probably), and you don't want a relationship. What do you even want from me. I'm exhausted thinking about it even. Leave me be in peace, or meet me in a connection and allow it to grow. Nicole says I should make him unfollow me. But I'm weak.

Then Rosario invited himself to my house. Took my spare house key. Basically invited himself to stay with me for a couple days. Apparently just discovered in that time I was not straight and had no strong feelings towards monogamy as a dating practice and was open to most anything and basically insulted me so fully and deeply to my core in a way that not even blatant homophobes have done. The whole time denying being homophobic. Like you can't say you're okay with gay people then tell me I'm basically hard up and desperate for sex and that's why my attraction is how it is. Brought a bunch of acid to my house. And got weird because I wasn't home and had to work, which he knew when he invited himself to my house. Like what do you expect? Me to rearrange my entire life for you on a moments notice? He also left a bunch of clothes at my house when he just took off suddenly when he imagined that I called him a bitch on the phone??? I don't know man. It really left a bad taste in my mouth and I'm over it.

So I've officially put myself on a hiatus. My SAD is getting bad right now. And I'm tired and just honestly exhausted with it all. So I'm trying to go till January without actively dating anyone. But of course there are loop holes. A couple people who can fit through the cracks of the hiatus. Something is seriously broken in me, and I need to fix that.

#dating in your 30s #adc #chris problems #Rosario

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mrdrhenwardhykle · 11 months

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INSERT 25¢ TO CONTINUE : Into the AudoScape- Level 4: "Attack of the Talking Heads!"

Previous Next

To the common man, the evening host of the annual Thanksgiving dinner at the Silverman's flowed flawlessly. There was a slight dimming in the dining room, but the lovely warm theme to the meal was welcoming nonetheless. There were no visible quarrels. Aunts, uncles, a few cousins, and grandparents stomped off the cold frost of the winter with wide open arms welcoming the residential hosts.

Freddie usually got a pat on the back and a conversation about his football team. Allope either got a pat on the head, a smooch on the nose, or a high five from the younger relatives, and Rebecca unusually got a nod, the brief lift of a hand and tightened smile, or a simple and emotionless "hi." The three kids stuck together just out of separate reasons for keeping distance from others.

Freddie was easily exhausted of being framed as just the 'football' guy and hated having to play through the same conversations of pretending to like something he didn't. Relatives would kindly ask him what college he was planning to apply to, to which he would name off a few on his long list of research, but usually being faced with the same reply of "What? Why that one? That team is terrible".

Rebecca kept active for only a little while, but backed out as soon as she caught onto conversations about some unnamed 'distant and ungrateful freeloader,' that her aunt and uncle just couldn't stop gossiping about, other than some weird TV personality that everyone seemed to like.

As for Allope, she was sick to her stomach with the inconsistency that two girls on a commercial couldn't come close to acknowledging her existence, but the artificial man who could clip out of his own body could; even getting to the point where he could possibly see right through the screen. The time for curiosity was behind her; even the thought of walking in front of the TV was like stepping on a minefield. Too bad for Allope, the TV was on all evening,with crowding adults laughing at whatever it said when given the chance.

"Hey, Al. What's up, kiddo?" Reb bumped the kid with her elbow to pull her out of her current habit of spiraling in abstract forms of thought. Sunk deep into her chair, Allope was bursting at the seams of keeping the knowledge of another realm from all those who could listen. "GRAH!-It's that creepy guy on the TV! He's just watching me, I just know it!"

Reb just struck a look of concern while Freddie held in his laughter, "What guy, Allope?" she replied.

Allope performed her sign for the name she forgot, by making an 'm' with her fist and making a 'v' shape around her jawline. They both seemed amused at the charade, but Reb still didn't follow along. "Y'know! The one with the teeth that go-" she clicked her teeth together while making a snarling noise.

Laughter escaped from Fred as he made an attempt to cover his face, "She's talking about Max Headroom. It's these clips of a computer generated AI; basically an artificial person, like a robot. He sometimes shows up between music videos from Channel 4. Allope was sneaking around and got into some troubles with her new headset last night. She just got freaked out when she saw him on the TV right after taking the set off, that's all."

Allope glared at the opposer in the corner of her eye, lifting the brand new Max Headroom-brand dishware that their mother with 'classical taste' so happened to choose for this year. Not only that, but weighing alongside the fact that almost the only brands they chose to use for dinner had the face of Max Headroom in front of his distinctive, shifting background lines right on the cover alongside some corny pun or catchphrase here and there.

"Yeah, that is a little weird", Reb agreed without either side fully catching on to who she believed the most, "Are you kidding? It's a robot. It's programmed to say all those things to please us. Maybe if they like it so much, it's just doing its job. It's in their name, ya know? They're supposed to serve man; we have souls and a consciousness, which always puts us on the top. But even when it comes to those things; we haven't gotten close enough to replicating life like this. It's likely just some guy in a,mask or clay or something-" Freddie argued.

"A-Ah. Yes; it's always just 'my life for you,' isn't it? I mean, what else was somebody like me made for?"

The group's attention turned towards the other room. Most adults were dogpiling on the chairs and couches facing the blaringly-loud TV. The dim lights included the living room as well; however the television emitted a bright, sickly, turquoise radiance that permeated through the darkness.

"A-A-As your entertainer, I serve nothing more than to-... well-[heh]... entertain. But also-But also-But also- as your entertainer, I should serve as a source to find happiness, should I not? [hm!] Th-is holiday season might I suggest helping out our sponsor by beating a bop by Big Burger Bobby's; back to bring a bright and brand-new smile to yo-yo-yo-your face!

Try now their new b-butter?Buh...

[[Oh N-N-N-NO! NO! You somehow managed to mess up the teleprompter, AGAIN! DAMMIT, MARTY!-

'Don't you just know the menu' D-D-D-Does it look like I can eat? Aha-And I tell you if I could,-I wouldn't be at some greasy low-rate-]]

[Ah-hem], sorry about the interruption ; it looks like there's technical difficulties. Bu-but don't worry! This old gun always has a big shot left to fire! [isn't that right, Marty?]"

He looked to the right glaring and smiling passive-aggressively as the intermission closed. The adults chattered and repeated the words everyone else heard as if they didn't, and as if it was their own joke, just before walking away when a music video started to play.

"Allope," Rebecca spoke in a hushed tone as she tugged on the kid's shirt. Freddie was far enough away not to hear them, as he was still distracted by the television.

"Yes?", Allope looked up at her cousin.

"Don't doubt the impossible when it comes to that stuff. You'll wish you knew better if you do," Rebecca allowed herself to reveal a layer of honesty through her hushed tone. Allope was haunted by this sudden change, but nodded and gave a little "okay" anyways. Rebecca propped herself in her chair in a lese tense manner, "Plus, I know we can't really get rid of that box, but Fred said it can change the channels without even touching the tv, right?"

"Right-"

"Right. And then maybe it's of use to us. Just... Be careful for now-with everything. At least until we know a little more about that device, and maybe even where it came from."

The three kids had no idea what to make of the tv's response, but took this as a good sign to stray away from the TV when it was turned on. The tactic worked enough for the afternoon to follow along smoothly once again as everyone decided to return to their houses.

Sleep was never a problem for Allope before, so why would it be now? Though always feeling as if she was not getting enough rest at night, she hardly broke her dream-state; wandering in and out between vivid images of static and collaged photos shifting on a colorful pattern. She would always take naps during the day, but was still absent at night. Her dreams felt almost exactly like the virtual world, but in so many different visual qualities and styles. Minnie accompanied Allope on her exploration across the electrical patterns. The more she dreamt, the more she suddenly learned about her set in real time; even to the point of noticing buttons and switches on her set that she had not noticed before. She at least assumed that these recurring situations were all a fantasy, as she felt like she was somebody much different. She was taller, a little braver, and broke the laws of physics by clipping through as many walls as she could. Unlike her real controls, in her dreams she could go blocks away from her house without climbing down the stairs or even opening a door; it was all through the lightbulb to her Rainbow Brite and Twink shooting-star-themed lamp.

Each dream, though different in location and adventure, would all end with her staring into a lone reflection left into a dark abyss, gazing upon the disfigured and indecisive face of somebody or something else; some nights appearing clearer than others. Allope had no clue of what it meant, but always took note of how odd it felt; as if she died and took the place of somebody from another planet-or even universe! But when she woke up, it always felt as if she was absent from her original state of skin and bones; as if she was resurrected. These dreams cost Allope sleep; daily dragging herself everywhere with one eye pried open more than the other. This feeling of fatigue wasn't natural in the slightest; it weighed like an anchor with the feeling as if her soul was being cut and broken away into little pieces like a pie. Each slice of energy was borrowed rather than eaten up, and would come back briefly in the evening.

Her mother attempted to drag her into shopping in the upper level of the mall during Black Friday. Allope stayed awake by focusing on little things like only jumping on the colored diamond-shaped floor tiles, attempting to make a tune out of the soft echoing speakers, as well as involving herself to whatever the elongated screens stuck onto the walls beneath and between the crosswalks on the upper floor said.

"Hello fellow foodologists, Nation-Wide trusted spokesman, Ma-Ma-Ma-Max Headroom here to inform you the importance of your child-child-child-child's fundamental brain-development . Creativity. We can all agree that CREATIVITY is an important factor in your kid's transition to adulthood. Bu-u-u-u-u–u-u-u-u-ut answer me this; how-how-how-how can your child or a fine adult such as yourself be confined to the horribly bleak concept of minimalism? So why waste your time by EXPOSING you and your children to the con-con-con-con-confinement of boring circles and shapes in their everyday junk food, when they could have the wide open world of cheese crackers in the shape of ASTONISHING HISTORICAL ICONS [such as yours truly] [hah~] Buy now for the greater good [[unless you wish to doom your child to the latter]] Starting at the low-low price of only $9.99 at your local food stores and outlets!"

Allope shrieked loudly, while maintaining eye contact with the disturbing computer man. She tried to run while dragging her mom behind. Her mother stood her ground to stop Allope, tugging her hand; "Allope, what is it, sweetheart? Do you see something you want?"

Allope tucked in her lips and widened her eyes; scanning each shop for an excuse to change their surroundings. A sparkling glimmer of starlight, sprinkles, rainbow, and forgotten children's hopes and dreams filled the coloring of her eyes when taking in the glorious view of a toy store with an endless shelf line of the brand-new 'Advanced' Limby Friends. "What are you looking at, Allope?" her mother asked.

"My Christmas list," she replied.

She barreled into the store with her mother following closely behind. To her relief, the enemy likely didn't catch sight of her presence.

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pridewhatpride · 3 years

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do you have any gx rivalshipping hcs!! im super curious on your take of them :]

When I saw this ask my immediate reaction was thinking: "Yes, I have an excuse to talk about gx rivalshipping, YES."

So yeah. I love this ship a lot, like a whole damn lot and it's a little hard to explain why, especially when gx has so many open possibilities for romances involving Judai. By which I mean two, really, and Manjoume is not one of them (sadly for me). I am referring to Yubel and Johan, by the way, I refuse to acknowledge Asuka as a love interest.

I'll start off with a bit of fluff headcanons?

Manjoume thinks Winged Kuriboh is really cute and that its friendly and fluffy appearance screams Judai, in a way. But he will never admit it because of what that might imply for him and the Ojamas.

Manjoume is fueled by caffeine and monster, he only really starts to recognise how nice it can be to have a meal because of how much Judai enjoys his food. He tries to sit at the table with him with dumb excuses.

Judai feels a bit guilty for how his actions impacted Manjoume's life, but Manjoume generally tells him that it's fine, it's better this way, that he's never this happy, that the only reason why Judai should maybe feel bad about it is because of his tendency to get overly invested in other people's problems and getting hurt in the process. Judai responds with bear hugs.

Manjoume brags about Judai a lot, actually. "Oh you think that's cool? One time Judai managed to do a backflip, you loser." "Slifer reds suck, but they do have redeeming qualities, by which I mean one of them is actually good."

Judai likes to indulge himself in the thought that he's Manjoume's most trusted, that he's the only one who could ever be allowed to have that many incriminating pictures of him. Because Judai just loves taking candid pictures of Manjoume. He thinks he looks and and cool in every situation, so yeah. A part of him does it because he has an inexplicable fear of forgetting people and the way they look, but he just can't say why that is.

They hang out in silence a lot, but once they start talking they just never stop. You'll find them on the beach at 3 am with a smiling Manjoume listening to Judai go on about how crazy it is that you can fry food in so many different ways and how he once caught a butterfly as a kid and named it Kujaku.

They share their music a lot, so Manjoume's tastes switch from just emo to fast paced rap and the weirdly happy sounding songs about very morbid things Judai listens to (plus emo). Judai starts to enjoy a bit of angry screaming into microphones thanks to Jun. Do they sing along like idiots as they share earphones? Yes. Is Manjoume mesmerised by Judai's singing voice? Also yes.

Judai loves hiking and sometimes invites Manjoume, but because he's a lot weaker and has less stamina, they take it slow. Manjoume keeps cursing himself for being slow and dead weight, but Judai is just happy to have a companion. Admittedly, going slower makes the walks better as he has the time to enjoy the scenery properly. He never teases Jun about his lack of physical training.

Now... I wanted to talk about my general view on the ship, plus headcanons I guess, but this is going to be EVEN LONGER (you are getting more than you asked for, your fault for enabling me, really). For the sake of the sanity of mobile users, I'm adding a cut so nobody has to unwillingly scroll through endless text.

On to the the juice, then. My thoughts on the ship. Manjoume and Judai are, of course, the rivals of the series and, if my thoughts on rivalry weren't clear enough, I am one of those people. It's just really romantic to me. What is very interesting about the two of them specifically is that they are polar opposites in the way the reason why they play, throughout the whole series. Hell, their views end up getting reversed completely: Manjoume goes from "if I don't win I'm gonna have a breakdown breakdown" to "losing is ok, as long as I enjoy the game and am true to myself", while Judai does the 180 from "I really just love playing cards with my friends, who cares about the outcome, it's fun" to "I have card game related trauma, nobody speak to me, games are only an excuse to assert a sort of power scale and honestly fuck that".

Manjoume is sort of the only person in the 'friend group' (he's never actually part of it, sadly, literally only Judai and Fubuki like him) to not idolise Judai, not explicitly. He clearly has an admiration for Judai from the beginning, but he is adamant on expressing it as hatred towards for being better than him. A part of me feels that a lot of his superior act is meant to try and fool himself and Jaden into thinking that he's a worthy rival, because I know for a fact that Manjoume doesn't believe that. He wants it to be true, yes.

What I am trying to get at is that Judai is probably a little confused by the fact that Manjoume doesn't drool all over him like the rest of the school does, but it soon becomes a crutch. Judai is under a lot of pressure because he is the hero who will save everyone and people like to remind him of how much they count on him. Manjoume is in it for Judai. He wants to be acknowledged by him, he wants his recognition and his attention, but he never asks for help or expects Judai to fix his problems for him. Judai is probably thankful for that.

Manjoume is also really scared of being left behind and cast aside as soon as he stops being useful and that's exactly what the writers do to him!!! hooray!, but Judai keeps insisting that he's not a bad guy, that he's fun to be around, that he's competent. Manjoume doesn't really believe all that that much, but Jaden keeps playing him despite his repeated losses and to Jun that's the equivalent of someone kissing his tears away. Manjoume only learns to accept his losses and shortcomings because Judai did it for him first.

So basically Manjoume is the only one who fully sees Judai as a person, while Judai is the only one who is really willing to look past his pretentious facade. I fully believe that Judai was relieved to learn that Manjoume was not just a perfect boy with perfect manners, by the way. They both just love to learn about every imperfection that the other has and silently thinking that they just add to the beauty of the other's character. Will they tease eachother about it? Fuck yes. Do they feel awful when the other tries to fix something about themselves because they pointed it out? Also fuck yes.

They are in a dumb competition against themselves to be better in order to earn the right to be friends with eachother, but because they are fucking dumb they never actually communicate (until they do), so for a long time it's endless pining that is definitely not gay because admittedly Judai just doesn't think that dating is a thing, while Manjoume is straight™, really straight. He has never liked a boy in his life, he's so very fucking straight, I swear.

So Manjoume is a bisexual disaster (and in my headcanon he prefers boys, actually, the Asuka incident is the biggest example of denial™ ever. He prefers Fubuki, fight me over this). The problem is that he never really considered he might be crushing on Judai, but at the same time admitting to maybe liking boys too means that there was more to wanting to stay at DA, to hanging out with Judai's crew despite their mutual dislike, to his continuous playful headlocks and ear pulling. To add onto that, there is probably a certain amount of guilt over having betrayed that bond with Judai by trying to throw away his cards and everything. Judai, on the other hand... is confused at how bothered he is by the public declarations of love, because Manjoume is his rival and rivals are supposed to focus on eachother, not on some girl, no matter how good said girl is at card games.

So maybe they are a bit gay for eachother. And maybe they just want excuses to be together as much as possible. And it's really just the vibe of highschool romance between two people who don't want to admit to caring for one another on a deeper level, but are also weirdly possessive of eachother for no apparent reason. And I think I'll stop here with my gay retelling, but really if you look at the two of them you do see that they do a lot for eachother's characters. It's kind of beautiful, really. They are the two socially inept characters who find comfort in someone being just like them and understanding them as they change and grow up.

I have a lot to say about how that changes once the transfer students come in, but I think I've bored everyone for long enough- as in nobody will read this lol. That's ok. I thank you again for the ask and for allowing me to gush about this ship that is so close to my heart. If anyone ever wants to talk about them, just. Do. Break into my house at night and I still won't mind, I just want to talk about them.

#shut me up #i'm so sorry #i started and i couldn't stop #i also didn't want to be disappointing by giving an half-assed response #i've thought about this ask all night #i still improvised the whole thing and i'm sure you can tell #yugioh #ygo #yugioh gx #ygo gx #gx rivalshipping #manjoume jun #jun manjoume #chazz princeton #yuki judai #judai yuki #jaden yuki

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just-another-obsessed-fangirl · 3 years

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slow motion, double vision in rose blush (Renora College AU)

Summary: Ren doesn't need alcohol to know how gorgeous his best friend is or to admit to himself (kind of, sort of) that his feelings towards her aren't exactly platonic. Apparently, he just needs it if he wants to be unable to ignore those facts.

Warnings: Drinking alcohol, some suggestive thoughts

Fic under the read more or can be read on AO3 here

I wrote this for Flower Power Week, but I didn’t see that there was a rule to keep works PG-13 until I was almost finished with this fic, and I figure this fic is already inherently a bit more mature than that, so I don’t think I should use the tag or tag the blog.

Hope you enjoy!

Parties wouldn't really be considered Ren's "thing".

He much prefers the slightly-hectic-but-relatively-calm get-togethers of his friends that they manage to schedule every week or so amongst all their university classes. But it was the end of some particularly grueling midterms and everyone in their little friend group (and apparently, everyone on campus) had wanted to let loose and let wild after being cooped up with only their textbooks and their stress for so long. So that, and not enough displeasure at the plan to do anything about it, is how Ren ended up in the corner of the front room of some frat house with a red Solo cup in his hand.

He doesn't know where most of his friends have gone. Ren hasn't seen all of them in one place since basically when they first arrived and Yang had shoved shots of - Ren hasn't drunk enough alcohol in his life to know for sure, but he would assume it's whiskey - into each of their hands. He didn't have much desire to down it in one go like most of the group, would rather let its burn come in little bursts than have all of the pain all at once. By the time he had finished it, Yang had taken Blake somewhere promising to dance, Ruby heard a rumor of a ping pong table and had set off to find it with Weiss so they can challenge each other, and Jaune and Pyrrha went… somewhere. The only friend who hadn't wandered off was Nora, who immediately upon finishing her shot had started pouring ice, orange juice, and maybe a tad too much vodka into a Solo cup.

She had immediately come back to his side, expressing how much this was needed for her after midterms. Nora then starts rambling about what lengths she had gone to in order to make the information stick and the stomach aches she got from the stress and how she was shaking during her last test partly from how little sleep she had gotten in the past month from projects. At least, that's what Ren was pretty sure she was talking about. The music was so loud that he had to lean in pretty close to hear what Nora was saying, and even then he couldn't pick up half the words said. Which was a shame, because as much as people seem to believe he just ignores her, Ren does listen to everything his best friend wants to say, and he likes listening to everything she says.

Nora must've noticed how close Ren was leaning in, or his discomfort at the loud music, as she then grabs his hand and walks them somewhere else, still talking all the while. The farther they walk, the quieter the music gets, the more Ren can hear Nora. They arrive at some far-off corner and Ren is more than content to stay there and listen to Nora for the rest of the night. But then a girl dressed more like she was going to a full-out rave rather than a college party rushes up to Nora and begs her to be her partner at beer pong.

"Kobalt and Ivori are ‘too cool’ for it, and Flynt's our DD, so obviously he can't drink, and you're fun enough and I bet you'd be super good at beer pong-"

Ren can tell Nora wants to say yes, but she keeps looking at him from the corner of her eye like she doesn't want to leave him alone. If he really had heard her correctly, then she is certainly deserving of some fun right now, and it might be a little awkward standing here alone but it wouldn't be the worst thing.

"You should go," he says.

Nora turns her head fully to him. "Are you sure? You gonna be okay here all by your lonesome?"

Ren gives her a little smile. "I think I can manage."

"Great!" the girl says with a clap of her hands. "So it's settled". She grabs the cup that Nora was holding and hands it off to Ren. "Now be a good boyfriend and keep this safe for her."

Nora's face flushes, and Ren can feel that he does too. "Oh no, Neon, we're not-" but before she can continue her denial, Neon yanks her away to the beer pong table.

They're a little ways away, but they are perfectly within Ren's eyesight. He can see that they're playing against Sun and Neptune. He doesn't know them too well but he hasn't known them as anything other than friendly. Well, Jaune might disagree at least where Neptune's concerned, but it's been ages and he's since got over his crush on Weiss, so he's probably okay with him now. They start their game and on her first try, Nora lands the ball cleanly into one of the other team's cups. She jumps and pumps her fist in the air, showing off that usual bright beautiful smile in her joy that always seems to lighten up every room and flood Ren's insides with warmth.

He looks away a little, not wanting to acknowledge what that feeling really meant, even if he had finally admitted to himself that what he had felt for his best friend wasn’t exactly platonic. The admission itself is a barely-there kind of thing because no matter how much Ren would prefer it, he couldn't be in complete denial over it for the rest of time so he'll just settle for being as close to that as possible. Nora's his best friend, what they've had since they were kids - it's good. For the most part, he's completely fine with the way things are and Nora seems to also so why potentially ruin or try to change something that's practically perfect already? Before he could uncomfortably spiral into that thought process anymore, mercifully, he is interrupted. But not so mercifully, that interruption is from Nora, laughing so loud and wonderfully that Ren just plummets even deeper.

Something funny must have happened. Or maybe not. It doesn't seem to take much to send Nora into a fit of laughter. He likes that about her, that she can let joy or other emotions in so easily and that she doesn't really care about how it may look or what others might think. He's glad there isn't some insecurity that keeps Nora from laughing so often. She has such a nice laugh and Ren likes knowing she's happy and it's nice that she does it so much. And her lips are so pretty, especially when she smiles. He can't help but keep his focus on them. That is until she throws her head back, showing off the nice smooth skin of her neck. Ren then starts to wonder what it would be like to press his lips to the side of it and just how she'd react before he realizes the nature of just what exactly he's thinking.

His mouth goes dry. Without thinking, he raises Nora's cup to his lips to make it go away but it isn't until he's already swallowed and surprised himself with the hefty burn it leaves in his throat that he remembers what was in that cup. Yeah, he definitely took a much bigger sip than he should've, and there is definitely too much vodka in that. But the orange juice masks the taste of it for the most part and the ice soothes away a good amount of the burn, so it's definitely not the worst alcoholic drink Ren's ever had and might actually be one of the more pleasant ones. He takes a smaller sip of it out of a measured curiosity.

Ren's eyes drift back to Nora. If he had any sense left in him, he'd focus on anything else, keep trying to avoid feelings he doesn't want to feel and thoughts that might be inappropriate, or definitely inappropriate. But it's as if Ren's field of vision can only narrow down to just her. There are clouds of pink on the edges of what he can see, threatening to fill up the entire room, and it seems as if the only way it won't happen is if he keeps Nora right in the center, where all her movements seem to be in slow motion.

She picked a green top tonight, a color more associated with Ren more than Nora. She bears a little more skin in this top too, the two spaghetti straps unable to hide the nice, toned muscles of Nora's arms and shoulders along with her delicate collarbone. Ren had already noticed this top when everyone was on the way to the party, trying to figure out if it was new as he's pretty sure he had never seen it before. He must've been more obvious than he should've, because Pyrrha had nudged his shoulder then, giving him a coy little smile. "Green's a good color on Nora, isn't it?" Pyrrha had said, as if he hadn't already known that. Nora doesn't have a lot of green in her own wardrobe, but Ren does, and the times when she has worn the color were usually because she was wearing his clothes. She's done it often enough - stolen his sweater to fight the cold in the café while they were studying, hung his jacket from her shoulders walking around town, switched into one of his tees and sweats when she needed to crash at his dorm for one reason or another. It always feels nice seeing Nora in green, especially when it's his green. Ren would let Nora borrow his clothes any time just to see it more often.

Nora's skirt is still her signature pink, but without the usual volume or swish ability that she loves so much. No, this skirt is… tighter. It clings to the shape of her quite well, accentuating her curves very nicely. She's doing a little dance right now, and it looks like she's singing too. Nora's a really good singer when she wants to be but he can't imagine she's deciding to be that right now. She bumps her hip against Neon's and spins around, does some shimmying movement. Ren's mouth goes dry again. He's starting to feel really warm. He should look away. Nora's his best friend. He shouldn't be getting mesmerized by the movement of her hips or tracing his eyes over the muscles of her arms, or even noticing how her outfit and especially that skirt, while she’s dancing, makes certain areas of Nora more prominent and - okay Ren's taking another drink. He's taking another drink because he needs another drink, because he needs to stop ogling Nora and thinking these kinds of thoughts about her.

The burn hurts. It's a deserved punishment.

He's a little woozy right now but he still feels guilty. Nora is beautiful. She's always been beautiful. Ren has known that even before realizing he liked her in that way. But that doesn't give him or anybody else the right to objectify her like that. It's obviously not like her being gorgeous is the only thing to Nora, and neither that nor the idea of them being physical together are why Ren fell in love with her in the first place.

Love.

Well, that is… definitely true. It's definitely true but Ren doesn't think he's ever admitted that much to himself before. In fact, he knows he hasn't because emotions are uncomfortable and scary and often irrational and he doesn't like dealing with them especially when it could ruin probably the most important relationship he has. Why did he have to realize this now? Why did he have to realize this at all? This is uncomfortable. He might be panicking. He feels off balance. Ren takes another drink just so that he can distract himself from all of this but it doesn't quite work by the time he's finished off the rest of it.

There's nothing of this too-much-vodka concoction left and it is immediately apparent to Ren that that was not his brightest idea. He doesn't really drink too much, even at social gatherings. Their friends usually appoint him the designated driver, and he doesn't mind. If he does drink, he'll usually stop by the time he feels a hint of a buzz. This was… more than a hint. He's more off-balance than before, the room sways a little more and he thinks it's grown even pinker. His head feels cloudy. And this is the longest a burn has stayed in his throat. And he is so warm. Ren leans his back against the wall for some stability.

His eyes come back to Nora because if Ren couldn't stop it before, he can't stop it now. She's still there, being beautiful and charming and full of life, laughing with the people around her, and of course Ren is in love with her, how could he ever try to deny that fact. Neptune comes up to her, leans in kind of close to say something. Ren doesn't like that, or the way he's looking at Nora. Maybe Jaune was right about him. Maybe the problem with Neptune is that he's too friendly. Neptune points his thumb somewhere and - wait, is he pointing at him? He must have because Nora immediately turns her head and catches Ren's eye. There's some expression on her face and she immediately sets off in his direction.

There's something in Ren that tells him to act casual and he raises the cup to his lips one more time but is immediately reminded of the fact that there's nothing left in it so he figures he just looks stupid.

"Hey," Nora says as she stops in front of him. "You okay?"

Ren looks up from his empty cup and pushes himself off the wall. He probably used a lot more force than he should've and stumbles a bit, which Nora remedies by putting her hands on his shoulders. She laughs a little, and he can't help but feel even warmer.

"Guess that answers my question," Nora giggles some more.

"I'm fine," Ren says. He is very aware of how her fingers are splayed out on his shoulders, the pressure she's putting that's just enough to still him. It keeps him calm, but also doesn't, and his heart is beating so hard she must feel it where her hands are.

Her eyes scan over his face. "I've never seen your face so red." Ren's sure it only gets redder then. "How much have you had to drink?"

He wordlessly brings his attention back to the empty cup in his hand, which Nora follows. "You drank all of it?" she points at the cup, her eyes widening. "Ren, I put a lot of vodka in that!"

Ren blinks a couple times, having to more manually process what Nora said while he was trying not to stare at her mouth. "I can tell," he says, maybe a couple of seconds too late.

Nora raises an eyebrow. It's another cute look on her. "You don't really drink that much. There a reason why now?"

There's genuine concern in her voice when she asks that question, and it's so sweet and Ren's heart beats a little faster and he wants to take that concern away from her. But he doesn't think answering that question truthfully is going to help that. Ren's pretty sure the best-case scenario of saying 'you're pretty and I love you' to Nora is causing her confusion to the point of distortion.

"I was… thirsty." And that's really about as close to the truth as he can get. Ren shakes his head, but not too hard because the room is moving too much already and… ouch. "I'm sure you've had more tonight," nodding towards the beer pong table. She must've, shouldn't she? Is it just his alcohol-addled mind or does Nora not seem any bit of drunk at all?

She scoffs. "Maybe not. Sun really doesn't like putting too much beer in those cups. Besides, that's beer, not hard liquor. And I'm more experienced with it than you, so it takes a bit more to get me down. I've had more practice."

Nora shoots him a cheeky grin, a little closer to his face than she was before. She leaned in a bit when she was talking, migrated her hands closer to the base of his neck. It's nothing new. Nora being so physically affectionate is one of her trademark qualities. And Ren's happy to let her do that to him at any time, but he knows he generally seems unresponsive to it. But what if he responds to it now? He's not going to, he's absolutely not going to, but it's easier to fall into that daydream than usual. Ren could wrap his hands around Nora's waist, lean into this little space between them to ultimately close it. He could press his lips to that grin on her face, and Nora would be a little surprised, but in no time at all, she'd be kissing him back. She'd wrap her arms a little easier around his neck and she could press herself a little more against him, the idea of having any distance left between them as unappealing to Nora as it is to Ren.

"Uhh, Ren?"

He falls out of the daydream. "Oh! Ah… umm… huh?" She hasn't been saying anything. Ren has been very focused on Nora's mouth for the past couple of minutes, so much that he had missed the blush on her face. He must've missed something happening. Did he say something? The thought of that mortifies him to no end.

He might've been emoting his thought process on his face because Nora chuckles. "Yeah. That's definitely more alcohol than you're used to." She grabs his hand and leads him over to a couch nearby. Nora lightly pushes him down next to the armrest. "You stay right here," she says firmly, but full of fondness. "I'm gonna get you some water. And I probably need some too." Nora pats his cheek a little, brushes it with her thumb. Ren almost leans into it but she pulls away too soon.

Nora turns around and goes in search of some water, and characteristically of him tonight, Ren can't help but keep her eyes on her, until he's forced to because there are too many people in that direction. He sighs, sinking into the cushions as he closes his eyes, feeling the warmth bloom in his chest. She's just so caring. Nora is just so caring and she loves people so much. And she's not afraid to give away all that love and care, to allow people to really see that that's what she feels for them, does it without a second thought. That's one of the big things, Ren thinks. That's got to be at least one of the big reasons why he fell in love with Nora.

She comes back to him with two large water bottles in her hands. Nora tucks one under her arm in order to open the other, which she gives to him. Ren takes it and continues watching Nora as she settles right next to him, sitting down then kicking her legs up onto the couch. She leans back into the cushions and shifts herself more towards him, letting her head rest closer to his shoulder. Nora moves her head a bit to drink some water and then it actually touches his shoulder. Ren loves her so much. Moments like these are so small, and it's not like they don't happen between them very much. But maybe one day Ren will be brave enough to let them happen a lot more often, and those moments will have a slightly different meaning between the two of them than it does now.

She looks so pretty in this light. Nora looks pretty in any light.

Nora catches his eye again. She pushes her hand up beneath the water bottle Ren had forgotten that he was holding. "Drink up."

And who is Ren to refuse her? He starts to sip his first non-alcoholic drink of the night and already his head is starting to feel less like it's filled with cotton. He drinks until the room feels still again, until everything stops looking like it's in slow motion, until there's no more pink clouds on the edges of his vision. Before he knows it, Ren's finished the whole bottle and his throat feels the best it's been all night.

Despite the lack of pink clouds and an apparent increase in sobriety, Ren still keeps looking at Nora. She's giggling now. He doesn't know what exactly is so funny but that doesn't really matter.

"Feel better now?" She asks. He nods because he doesn't know just what he'll admit to her right now if he allows himself to speak. "Great. I'm glad they set out those really big water bottles. That really saved me another trip. And you probably didn't drink enough that you'd need ibuprofen or something. I would've said to take some just in case, but I'm not sure what taking meds when something isn't really wrong with you could do to you. I think you should be fine now. Don't think you'll wake up in the morning with a hangover."

Ren just keeps looking at Nora, without a word. He doesn't need them right now. He doesn't think he needs to do anything else besides look at Nora and hear her talk for the rest of time.

But something must be wrong because Nora turns her head away a little, shrinking a bit into herself. "Are you mad at me?"

That surprises him. "No," that is very much not what he was feeling towards Nora right now. "Why would you think that?"

She heaves out a heavy sigh. "Neptune said you were staring at me the whole time we were playing." Ren's heart stops a little. Nora keeps shrinking down and her voice feels smaller. "I don't know- I just figured you might be angry at me for leaving you alone at a place I know you'd rather not be."

Ren straightens up, shifts fully towards her so she can more easily believe what he's about to say. "I told you to go," maybe he's leaning more forward than he usually would, makes more direct eye contact with Nora. "And being here isn't too bad. I just- uh- I uh-" He puts his head down a little, taking some time to find the right words. How does Ren explain the staring? That he just loves the way she exists and who she is and she deserves good times and it's nice when she gets them?

"You were having fun," Ren brings himself to look back at her, says these words in all earnest. "I like when you have fun."

That takes her back a little. Nora's eyes widen but her face softens. For one terrifying but almost hopeful moment, Ren thinks she might've understood what he really meant underneath those words. She smiles and brings her hand up to his face. She uses a couple fingers to sweep his bangs to the side. Ren's eyes almost close at the contact.

"You're so sweet," Nora says, almost like she's in disbelief. "You wanna go back home? I can walk you back."

"Are you sure?" That does sound like a good idea to Ren, but he doesn't want to take Nora away from something she enjoys just for him. "I'm honestly fine here. I know you were really stressed, I don't mind if you wanna unwind a little more."

Nora smiles a little wider. "I think I've had a good amount of unwinding here already. If I stay here any longer and leave you unattended, who knows how many more screwdrivers you'll drink." She moves her hand from his forehead down to his cheek. "And you need to get home safe. For the most part, you seem all right now, but I just… I need to make sure."

Ren leans into the hand Nora has on his cheek. It's a bit more than he'd usually do, but it feels right. "Alright then."

"Can I crash at yours' too?" she asks. Ren chuckles a little at that, because when has Nora ever needed to ask that.

"Of course." And then some daydream starts again. They get back to his single dorm and it'll be just like the other times Nora's slept over there. She'll switch tonight's outfit out for some of Ren's pajamas and she'll look just as good, if not better to Ren. They'll lay down and fall asleep in his bed, and that's all they'll do tonight. And then the morning comes and there's no trace of alcohol in their systems and everything's in the clear, and Ren will kiss her, soft and sweet. Nora will kiss him back because she has wanted this just as much as he has. He'll keep a hand on her cheek and maybe she'll tangle her fingers in his hair. Then maybe they end up never leaving the dorm that day, or even the bed. They'll talk, of course. They'll say what needs to be said, about their feelings and anything else. It's decided between them that Nora can sleep at his dorm a lot more often. And when she does, they don't need to struggle as much to fit together on this twin size XL bed, because Ren can wrap himself around her and they can let their legs get tangled together. He can wake up and bury his head into the hollow of Nora's shoulder and just breathe her in. The next time they see their friends, Ren and Nora won't act all that much different, but it won't take long before they realize something's up. They'll get it out of them, and they'll be happy, and then they'll be mercilessly teased because how did it take you two this long? Ren will get a bit embarrassed, but Nora will take it in stride. She'll kiss the blush on his face, and he'll just blush harder, and she'll laugh a little until he does too.

But Nora in this reality grabs his hand and forces him to stand. He doesn't know if it's just how much he was in that daydream or if he's still a little buzzed from the alcohol, but it's a little disorienting as he makes movements.

Before he knows it, they're out the front door and into the cold night air. It's a little windy out. Ren wishes he had a jacket to give to Nora.

They walk at a leisurely pace in the direction of his dorm. Their hands are still intertwined, their arms swinging in between them. They don't speak, not uncommon at all for Ren but a little surprising from Nora. Ren might've wondered at this if we weren’t lost in his own thoughts.

How close is that daydream to reality? How close could that daydream be to becoming reality? Is it just Ren or are there enough pieces in place for that to happen? All this time he's been worried about losing their friendship, what they already have. But what kind of future could they have? What could they gain? Is all that Ren really needs to do is get over himself?

Maybe he's still not in his right mind. It certainly can't be that easy. But he can recall a few times when he's caught Nora looking at him. And maybe some of the comments she's passed off as jokes had more truth to them than she lets on.

Everything about this still feels scary, but not as scary as it was before. He is at least very lucky to fall in love with such an incredible, amazing woman who's already his best friend. He doesn't know what will happen, but he does know what could. And yes, that may include losing the person closest to him. But as devastating as that is, there's another possibility that is at least that amount of wonderful.

He peers at Nora from the corner of his eye. She's tucking some hair behind her ear to keep it from flapping in the breeze. Her hand is so warm in his.

Ren's not going to do anything like confess to her tonight. Or the next morning. But looking at Nora, and holding her hand, and thinking about the good possibilities - he thinks he's starting to build up the courage.

#renora #nora valkyrie #lie ren #rwby #my fics #I FINISHED WRITING A FIC FOR THE FIRST TIME IN ALMOST 3 YEARS #I LOVE THIS SHIP SO MUCH #i finally did my all lowercase tswift lyric title fic for this ship #fanfiction

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sigynpenniman · 3 years

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Julian Bashir Playlist Time!!

Apple Music playlist (if you're a heathen and subscribe to apple music like me) here

I know that there's plenty of people making playlists, but I really feel like this is an under-utilized brand of fan content. Instead of attempting to create a list of songs that Julian would listen to, or a playlist of songs which were all lyrically directly applicable (though there certainly some of those in here) regardless of genre, I tried to create something which captured, above all, his vibes instead, by choosing songs that balance at least somewhat relevant lyrical content with the energy or feel that I associate with the character. What it means matters, but not as much as how it makes you feel. That said, I signed up for apple music and read a TON of those overwrought iTunes store album review descriptions while I was making this, so I have a whole lot to say about all my choices here. In depth explanation of my symbolism and methodology behind each song under the keep reading. (I love tumblr. I want to write 1,000 words of analysis about why I picked songs to represent Julian Bashir and some of you are gonna read it. This is where I get to pretend to be one of those iTunes music writers. I feel joy.)

Good Morning - Two Door Cinema Club TDCC's Gameshow is high on my favorite albums of all time list for nebulous reasons I myself don't really understand. It was this album, though not this song (but one that will pop up later) that actually inspired me to make this playlist to begin with, as for some reason, from the color scheme of the album cover, to the overall vibe, to the ever-present references to illness, injury, surgery and healers in the lyrics, the whole thing feels inescapably Julian to me. And with an opening like I'm a sinner/I'm the victim/I'm an alien when I'm myself/I'm a healer/I'm a fixer/I'm a present danger to my health/I'm so strong/Doing what I'm supposed to do/ There's something wrong/With somebody like me, it's hard NOT to think about Julian when you hear this song, and I can't think of a better way to start this off.

Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood I think there's a joke somewhere about bisexual people all liking Sweater Weather, and yeah, I resemble that remark. Sweater Weather is just good. You'll notice there's a sort of chill-indie-alt-electronic thing going here, and that is very much the vibe I'm sticking with. Sweater Weather slots in beautifully, both sonically and thematically. As the singer looks to warm and protect the person he's with from the cold, you can't help but feel a loving coziness coming off of this one. It always makes me feel cozy, at least, so it's here.

Gooey - Glass Animals I have nothing to analyze here because the artists themselves have said that the lyrics of this song have no meaning, they're just meant to capture a vibe, and capture it they do. Close your eyes and ride the vibes of this one. The energy is right, I love it, it belongs here.

Blue - Mika I could probably write a couple hundred words on Blue alone, in any context. This might be my beloved Mika's magnum Opus. Opening the song with the inherently counterintuitive lyric Blue is a feminine color, Mika manages to pack it ALL into this 3 minute song: questions about gender; concepts of sadness, joy, and their intersections; of the perception of melancholy as a flaw and loving people despite, or maybe because of, those "flaws" and anything else about them; a powerful first person reassurance that made me start weeping in my car the first time I heard it; just the phrase "why are humans cruel to you." And oh boy, ARE there questions of gender. Why is blue NOT considered a feminine color? Is that a good thing, a bad thing? In 3 minutes of artful poetry, Mika manages to wrap up sadness, love, joy, pain, the feminine that exists within the masculine and the masculine that exists within the feminine, in the simple color of blue and then, in one lyric, validates it all. And on a much simpler and more obvious note, this is in fact all a philosophic musing on the symbolic meaning of the color we see Julian wearing almost all the time (when he's not in uniform, almost all his civvies are also shades of blue.) I feel like this is one of those songs that's hard to analyze because it does what music and poetry does best - communicate something that cannot be communicated any other way. With these broad themes of loving others around the things they can't love about themselves, you can decide for yourself if this one is coming FROM Julian or directed AT him, either works. I find myself struggling for exactly the words to explain this one, but listen to it; you'll understand.

Little Dark Age - MGMT Another choice with no obvious lyrical relevance, but the tonal fit was just too good to pass up. The vibes pass.

The City - The 1975 This song is one of several present because it leans on medical symbolism to get its point across, though I would be lying if I said I fully understood what that point was. But the entire second verse, apparently about the song's subject suffering from some kind of illness and reassuring him that the next one's the M.D./You'll be feeling just fine, seems somehow to transmit the discomfort of illness directly to the listener. I don't know how or why, but the effectiveness of the empathy the second half of this song elicits, in me at least, puts it squarely in the "odd medical vibes" category.

Surgery - Two Door Cinema Club THIS is the song that inspired this whole playlist, mostly because of its title and general vibe. Another example (of many) of medical/anatomical references in this album (another of the songs is called Fever, etc), this song just feels like Julian to me.

The Other Side Of Paradise - Glass Animals I really like Glass Animals. That is probably becoming obvious. Aside from its delightfully cohesive vibes, this song opens with what's simultaneously the slyest and most brazen gay lyric I have heard on the radio recently, as the male singer says When I was young and stupid my love left to be a rock and roll star/HE told me... The song seems to be about a man whose male lover left him in pursuit of fame and fortune, and eventually ends up with a woman, leaving the singer behind. It's got simultaneously subtle and obvious gay themes, it's got confused love affairs, it's got so much bisexual energy. I cannot think of anything that could be more Julian.

Sit Next To Me - Foster The People Kind of like Sweater Weather, this whole song is built around a rather cute and sweet "sit next to me," and you can't help but feel a bit warm and cozy when you listen to it. I think it pairs with sweater weather well, and slides in with the rest of the picks very nicely.

Nothing Better - The Postal Service (the original band of the lead singer of Death Cab For Cutie) Another example of heavy surgical symbolism, the very first lyric of this song is Will someone please call a surgeon. This is actually a duet, and the singers speak of their real hearts to represent their emotional ones. Something about Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures always gets me and always will. And it vibes good. It vibes so, so good.

&Run - Sir Sly Sir Sly's &Run is my favorite song for driving too fast. It does an amazing job of musical onomatopoeia, talking about running while making you want to run. It's a song about running out of plans and running as far as you can instead, which is all very "I'm illegal by definition so I went to the farthest possible reaches of space." And like everything else here, it just feels good. It's also one of the only highlights here that I can actually see Julian listening to.

Cosmic Love - Florence and the Machine It's no coincidence that it seems like most of us who are invested in Julian Bashir are some flavor of genderqueer, be it trans, nonbinary, questioning, or something else entirely - the man's got a Gender with a capital G, and there's a whole lot going on in there. Between the words that were written for him on the page, and the words that were actually spoken, and the way he carries himself, Julian always seems caught between the white, western, and frequently toxic masculinity that the writers often seemed to want to imbue him with, and the very different, racially and culturally distinct masculinity Sid actually brought. But there's an undeniable element of the feminine in Julian too, at least by a traditional definition. The presence of this part of him at all, much less the fact that, in-universe, it's the more traditionally "feminine" parts of himself - the caregiving and nurturing aspects - that Julian seems proudest of or to like most about himself, is a large part of what makes his character so interesting, at least to me. So there was no way I was getting out of this without acknowledging that somehow, and I can't think of a better way to acknowledge a complicated relationship with the feminine side of one's own gender than with this world's own Celtic divine feminine, Florence Welch. I can't think of any better artist, at least that I know of, to represent femininity as a nonspecific ethereal goddess-concept. I basically spun the wheel of Florence here, as anything would have worked, but Cosmic Love felt very appropriate for a character who does in fact live in space. There could even be some Garashir in here, I think.

Dream Sweet In Sea Major - ミラクルミュージカル, or Miracle Musical, a sister act made up of members of Tally Hall I also couldn't leave off without acknowledging Julian's affection for classic lounge music, especially since it's the only thing about his taste in music that we actually know. But instead of tacking on some rat pack, instead I'm polishing this off with the incredibly chaotic and somehow also perfectly cohesive and calm Dream Sweet in Sea Major. It's got all of the vibes of a lounge singer but gone completely off the rails, which just seems perfect somehow. And it's also a very nice feeling to be left with, so it seems only right to put it at the end.

and if you've read all of this, I love you. Y'all didn't know I was this into music did you. but I am. oh boy. I AM.

#julian bashir #playlists #Spotify

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vhsrights · 4 years

Text

first “i love you” / love confession - @sapphicinephile

Love Isn’t Bound by Languages - Jemily

WC: 1612

IT’S FINALLY DONE. :)

“Kiss the cook? Don’t mind if I do, but only if the pasta turns out good.” JJ made strong eye contact, hoping that Emily caught on to the weight of her words.

“Oh, well then. I guess I’ll be getting kissed tonight. Lucky me.”

The door settled into place with a soft click and JJ walked to the side, removing her coat and shoes. She had brought the ingredients for their wine and cooking night. Fresh tomatoes, herbs, and pasta rustled around in the tote bag. They had opted to make pasta that Emily had suggested, remembering her time watching the cooks in her childhood kitchen. JJ had readily agreed because she was never one to turn down food and wanted to see Emily’s prowess in cooking. Speaking of the brunette, she wasn’t visible as JJ moved slowly through the apartment.

Warm candlelight engulfed the room in front of her. The skylight windows provided an unrestricted view of the world beneath her. It was humbling in a way that Jennifer couldn’t describe. She stood high in this tiny apartment, watching the people below her bustle about their lives, unaware of her gaze. Pulling her eyes away from the outside, JJ meandered around the apartment’s living room. Her eyes slowly perused the sparse art that was on the wall. It gave the apartment an air of grace, but one that felt fake and inauthentic to the woman that she knew lived within its walls.

“Jen.” The way that her nickname sounded, full of elegance, drove more butterflies into JJ’s stomach.

“Em, hey. I got the groceries. Are you ready?”

JJ turned around and was met with Emily. The woman looked unexplainably gorgeous in her casual flannel, t-shirt, and sweats combo. JJ felt her thoughts stutter as she took in the brunette. She couldn’t move as Emily glided past her, her gait full of confidence and aimed towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Jen. You coming?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry about that.” JJ turned around and followed Emily while blushing.

She was glad that it had been cold outside, giving her an excuse for her tinted cheeks.

“Alrighty, so first things first. Here is your apron.” Emily pulled out an apron that had “It’s not burnt! Just Crispy!” and JJ laughed. “Hey, I thought you’d like it.”

Emily fake a pout as JJ grabbed the apron and tied it around her waist, still giggling. The cloth somehow still managed to hang loose. Emily noticed and ignored her rapidly beating heart before speaking. She hid her hands in her pockets as they fidgeted increasingly harder to keep her guise of calmness.

“I can help you tie it, Jen. Here, I got it.” Emily pushed off from the counter and circumvented the blonde.

She grabbed the string of the apron. Her hands barely brushed against JJ’s waist yet sent jolts through both of them. Not wanting to prolong their closeness for fear of her heart’s desires, Emily deftly tied the bow. Luckily, or “unluckily”, there was a second set of strings to be tied around JJ’s neck. Of course, she had picked the apron with two sets of ties. Silently reprimanding herself, Emily pushed JJ’s hair to the side. Her hands hesitated as she worked up her nerve.

Stop making this weird. The longer you wait, the more off you’ll seem to Jen. Get it together, Prentiss. Jeez, you’re like a teenager with a crush.

“Em, you okay? Can you tie it?” JJ could feel her heartbeat in her throat, trying to suppress her nerves from bubbling up.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s done.” Emily made haste in finishing the knot and answering her, pulling away to soothe her racing heart.

She grabbed her own apron and threw it on. This one didn’t have two ties. Lucky Emily. JJ began to giggle once more as she pulled the ingredients out of her tote bag, leaving Emily confused.

“What?” She truly had no idea what JJ was giggling at.

“Did they have a sale at the punny apron store?” Emily looked at her with ample confusion. “Kiss the cook? Don’t mind if I do, but only if the pasta turns out good.” JJ made strong eye contact, hoping that Emily caught on to the weight of her words.

“Oh, well then. I guess I’ll be getting kissed tonight. Lucky me.”

Two could play at this game. The words were no different from their usual banter. However, where they were, about to cook, made it a whole other playing field. Neither woman was one to back down from a competition. The two moved easily around the kitchen, shifting past each other as if they had been doing it for years. Emily’s straightforward instructions left nothing to be desired and helped the women accomplish their dish in the perfect amount of time.

JJ may have nicked herself with the knife a couple of times, but what’s art without a few hiccups. Italian music serenaded them softly from the background. It was like a scene out of a cheesy romantic movie, one that Emily pretended to hate but secretly loved. Both women stole plentiful yearning looks at each other. They caught each other’s eyes and were quick to tear them away.

“Jen, can I get a taste of that?” Emily rested her hand softly on JJ’s hip, leaning over her side to sip the sauce.

“Sure. Here.” JJ felt the warmth of Emily’s body behind her. She had to focus to keep her hand from shaking as she lifted it for the brunette.

Emily tasted the sauce and all but moaned at its illustrious flavors. JJ was extremely thankful that the brunette was standing behind her. Her cheeks had flushed at the sound and her body froze. God, she is trying to kill me. She set the spoon to the side and turned her focus back to the food, as much as her mind would allow. They worked in perfect harmony for the rest of the time; joking, laughing, dancing, and cooking together.

Emily eventually plated the food with JJ’s help. The women marveled at their creation, eager to dig into the dishes. They high-fived before separating one final time. JJ set the table and Emily did some basic cleaning in the kitchen.

“Rossi could never,” Emily smirked mischievously as the two sat down to eat.

“Oh, of course not. We are the new Papa Pastas.” JJ encouraged the joke, thinking to their older teammate’s staunch relationship to pasta.

The food not only looked enticing, but it also tasted heavenly. Both women didn’t speak for the rest of the dinner time, enraptured by their dinner. Emily and JJ occasionally glanced over at each other, conveying their content and other emotions. Neither own wanted to acknowledge the beautiful domesticity of the moment. This was something that both women wanted to do for the rest of their lives, held back by the barrier of unspoken words. Time passed on and the women moved from the table to kitchen, easily washing and putting away dishes for a later time.

Eventually they settled on the couch, heavily poured wine glasses in hand. The evening had gone perfectly.

“Wow. That was so delicious. I think that I owe a thanks to your mother’s cooks. That recipe was perfect.” JJ sipped her wine as Emily watched her with love in her eyes.

“Absolutely. They make me remember that simpler time. My world was so small, and they helped me get through each day.” JJ beamed, noticing the ease and tranquility that had erased the lines of strain and overworking from Emily’s face.

“Speaking of world, I have a question.” Emily thought of her question and smiled.

“Go for it, Em,” JJ spoke, with her interest peaked.

“If you could shout one thing from the rooftops, in any language, and to everyone in the world, what would you say?” Emily watched the light grow in JJ’s eyes.

The blonde’s eyes widened and her mind froze. She had been learning Italian in her spare time, trying to build the courage to use with Emily. She had only needed to learn one phrase, but the rest were useful as well. Now was her shot. Waiting a short second before inhaling deeply, JJ spoke the only phrase in Italian that she fully understood.

“Sono innamorato di Emily Prentiss.”

Emily stopped. Her brain went into overdrive. Translating and retranslating the phrase, hoping that it meant what she understood it to be. I am in love with Emily Prentiss. Her heart was beating in her throat and her thoughts were hazy. She set the wine glass down and looked at JJ, really studying her. She only saw love and admiration, not finding the joke or deceit that she imagined. This was really happening.

“Sono innamorato di Jennifer Jareau.”

The words rolled off of her tongue smoothly as they had done many a time before. Except now, Jennifer would actually hear it. JJ let out the breath she had been holding. I am in love with Jennifer Jareau. It was unbelievable, but her mind began to whizz through things to say.

The only thing that came out was, “Really?”

“Yes. From the first time I spoke to you, and so much more since then.” JJ couldn’t help but smile with all of the hope and love that was bubbling out of her.

“It was the same for me. I fell for you, so hard that I guess I didn’t see you falling for me too. So, can I?” JJ pointed at Emily.

“Can you what?” Not realizing that she hadn’t taken off her apron, Emily looked down.

Kiss the Cook.

“The pasta was beyond amazing, so I have to keep my promise.” JJ giggled and Emily rapidly agreed.

Emily pulled JJ in for a kiss. Their lips met and the world stopped around them. It was the perfect end to their night.

That night, JJ and Emily truly learned that love isn’t bound by languages.

#jemily #prompts #writing #i love you confession #userjemilyology #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #cm

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hyucks-archive · 4 years

Text

perhaps; maybe.

word count: 9,765

genre: romance, angst

member(s): mark, featuring donghyuck, jeno, and the other dreamies

warning(s): none!

author’s note: this actually started out as a fluff fic but i guess i haven’t gotten over angst yet

Mark watches the students stroll into the lecture hall one by one, the conversation that his friends are having slowly dwindling into background noise. Mark props an arm on the table, resting his chin in his palm, noticing how majority of the students have their earbuds plugged in, a coffee or tea in hand. He too, grew up hearing the anecdotes of how college life is always lonely and independent, and that most would hang around campus without friends. It’s different for Mark, though. He’s lucky enough to be taking the same degree as some of his friends. He’s even luckier that all of his friend group belong to this university.

When the twelfth student walks in, he notices how the aura that surrounds this person is significantly different from the rest. Cladded in a full black outfit, Mark notices how unlike the others, you don’t have music playing in your ears, neither do you have a cup of beverage in hand. In fact, it doesn’t even look like you have anything in the tote you have slung on your shoulder. Mark watches as you take a seat by the left aisle, two rows in front of the row he’s situated in.

“What are you staring at?” Jeno interrupts, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder with Mark. He follows in the direction Mark’s eyes are looking in, to be greeted by your unwelcoming back. “Why are you staring at that kid?” Jeno questions. Mark shrugs. Mark remembers seeing you around campus numerous times, even more frequently in lectures, and consistently in that one tutorial class the two of you have in common. He has always noticed something different about you; maybe it’s your aura, or maybe it’s just Mark being the curious boy he is. The common baseline is that you intrigue him, and you somehow always manage to catch his attention, whether you know it or not.

“Are you guys staring at 06?” Donghyuck chimes in, resting his arm on Jeno’s shoulder. The three boys are now collectively staring at the big ‘0’ and ‘6’ printed on the back of your letterman jacket, that clearly does not categorise you into any athletic club, neither is it merchandise from the university. “Do you guys know 06?” Mark questions, turning to face his two friends. Jeno shakes his head, while Donghyuck is more than eager to share. “I hear 06’s really chill. Doesn’t ‘do’ friends,” he says, using his fingers to make inverted commas at the word ‘do’, “Doesn’t really care for school either. 06 kind of just,” Donghyuck takes a pause, trying to think of the right word. He settles for, “Exists.”

Mark and Jeno nod their heads in understanding. Mark resettles his gaze on the back of your head. Jeno nudges him, “You interested in 06 or something?”

Mark recalls the one time he’s ever heard you speak. It was during a tutorial, where you were pinpointed to answer. He had never thought much of you before that, simply falling into the assumption that you are one of the introverted kids who prefers to keep to themselves. But the way you stood up confidently, and the way your booming voice captured the entire class, painted you in a completely different light compared to what Mark had imagined. He had always thought that you’d have a soft, timid voice, afraid to make a mistake, like most of the other quiet kids. But when he saw the way you answered the professor’s question without any doubt or fear of being wrong, he realised you were different.

He takes a moment to ponder upon Jeno’s question. “06 is,” Mark pauses, pursing his lips, “Interesting.”

Donghyuck scans the café, finally spotting Renjun, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung by the large glass panel. “Over there,” he says, leading the way. Mark and Jeno follow behind, exchanging smiles and small waves with their friends. “You guys already ordered?” Donghyuck says, reaching for Renjun’s fork. Renjun slaps the boy’s hand away, “Get your own cake,” he chimes. Donghyuck mimics him in an annoyingly high tone, switching targets. He’s now going for Chenle’s cake. Chenle lets him eat it.

“I’ll order,” Mark offers, “What do you guys want?” he asks, directing his question at Donghyuck and Jeno. “I’ll have my usual,” Jeno says, to which Mark nods his head. Donghyuck looks past Mark’s shoulders, trying to get a view of the menu, but something else catches his eye instead. It’s the very familiar back view with the big ‘06’ printed on that he had discussed with his friends about earlier. “Hey, it’s 06 again,” Donghyuck comments, gesturing in your direction with his chin.

“06?” Renjun murmurs, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks in the direction where Donghyuck had guided towards. He squints his eyes, finding the face of the owner of the letterman jacket to be fairly familiar. When he realises it’s you, he snaps his fingers, “Ah, I know 06,” Renjun exclaims. Mark’s interest is immediately piqued. He turns to look at Renjun, “You know 06?”

“Yeah, 06’s in my ethics class,” he says.

“Is it true? 06 is really chill and doesn’t have any friends?” Jeno asks.

“06 is probably the most carefree person I’ve ever met,” Renjun describes, “Doesn’t care what people think. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve even seen 06 smile.” Renjun thinks back to the many times he has seen you in class. You always donned the same blank expression, even when the class would erupt in laughter at the lecturer’s or the students’ jokes. He had wondered for a brief moment if you simply weren’t paying attention, but when you had shared your opinion that made everyone cackle in their seats, you remained neutral with your poker face.

The topic is dropped when Chenle begins to talk about an incident that happened in class today. Mark heads to join the queue to order. He happens to be standing behind you.

Though there is a good amount of distance between the two of you, Mark is still able to pick up the subtle scent of clean linen that diffuses from you. It’s extremely pleasant and welcoming, a contrast from your cold and unamiable aura. Mark watches as you reach into your tote bag, aggressively digging around for something. He isn’t able to see your expression, for your back is still turned against him. He however, manages to catch the, “Shit,” that escapes from your mouth.

You furrow your eyebrows, flipping the minimal items you have in your tote bag around, desperate to find your card or some loose change. In your rush this morning, you had forgotten your wallet on the dining table back home. You groan, running a frustrated hand through your hair. You sigh, about to leave the line, when a low voice speaks from behind, “Do you need help?” You jump at the suddenness, turning around to look up to be greeted by a black-haired boy who has on an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. You notice how defined his cheekbones are, how his cheeks sink in slightly with his smile. You aren’t sure if you’re just seeing things, but you swear you noticed for a second that his eyes were twinkling.

Realising that you’ve been staring for a tad bit too long, you immediately avoid eye contact, snapping back to your senses. You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you say, taking the first step to move out of the line. The boy stops you, “You’re not ordering anymore?” he asks. This time, you notice how his brows are raised, a tiny mole on his left cheek, his lips seemingly forming a ‘o’. Usually, you’d just walk away murmuring your answer, but this boy seemed genuinely too nice for you to just ignore.

“I uh,” you bite down on your lower lip, “Forgot my wallet.”

You were expecting the conversation to end, but the boy only giggles at your issue. He tilts his head to the side a little, “I’ll pay,” he says. From the sincere smile that he’s giving you, you can tell that he means what he said. But, you still shake your head, refusing to be indebted to some stranger you happened to meet on campus. You’d have no way of repaying him, aside from deliberately meeting up with him; another thing you didn’t want, the risk of becoming personally acquainted to someone.

“Too late,” he says, giving you a light shove, “It’s your turn to order.”

You’re unable to register the situation fully, the barista greeting you with a polite smile. “What would you like?” he asks, ready to key in your order. “Oh,” you manage out, only collecting your thoughts now. “I’ll just get a chai tea to-go, please,” you say. The boy behind you takes a step forward, his shoulder brushing against yours, beginning to place his order. You take a few steps to the side due to the physical contact. Luckily, you’re able to just disguise it as moving aside to wait for your order, since there was no need for you to remain at the cashier.

When he has completed the payment, he walks over to join you.

“I’ll pay you back,” you say. “Sure,” his smile still plastered on his face, “You can just look for me in class.”

You stop for a moment, eyes shifting about as you try to dig into the deep depths of your memory. You don’t remember having seen him before. Granted, you honestly don’t even remember a single face of anyone in any of your classes.

“We take the same class?” you ask. Mark thinks you’re joking, so he laughs. But when he sees the slightly raised brow, genuine confusion in your face, he realises you’re being serious, that you’ve never noticed him before. It leaves a slightly sour taste in his mouth, but he manages to maintain a smile. “You’re in all of my lectures,” he says, “And one tutorial.”

You nod your head. That makes things a lot less of a headache for you. “I’ll pay you tomorrow, then,” you say. Mark nods his head in acknowledgement, reaching a hand out, “I’m Mark,” he introduces. You stare at his extended hand for a moment – you’ve never encountered a situation where you’re basically forced to return the introduction. You know it would come off as rude if you choose to not shake his hand, but you’re not one to care for others’ opinions. Life wouldn’t be fun if you wasted it worrying about how your every little action would frame the opinion of someone else. Not that life is fun for you, anyway.

That is why you simply look away from Mark’s hand, towards the collection counter. Mark stares at your side profile, unsure of what your actions mean. Usually, the other party would get the message that you don’t want to exchange names, but this boy, Mark, is different. He’s persistent, tilting his body in the direction of your line of vision, “Um, hello?” he says.

You turn to look at him. “I don’t do friends,” you state.

Mark recalls the conversation with Jeno and Donghyuck pre-lecture, where Donghyuck had shared about how you don’t ‘do’ friends. He had assumed it meant something different, but he realises now that it means you don’t make friends with people. He huffs out a smile at the thought; his interest in you seems to only grow as the interaction goes on. You’re different, just as he expected.

Before he’s able to say anything more, the buzzer in his hand lights up, vibrating as an indication that his order is ready. He walks towards the collection counter, and you follow behind. Because of the amount of drinks and plates of food he had ordered, his order was separated into two trays. You look at the trays for a moment – are you feeling nice enough to offer a helping hand? Technically, he can just make two trips.

“Here,” Mark says, holding out your cup of tea that he had already slipped on the sleeve for. Maybe it’s because you realised, he isn’t even going to ask you for your help, or it’s because Mark’s smile makes you want to do something nice, so you offered. “I’ll help you with that,” you say, taking the drink from him, placing it back down on the tray. You lift the tray up, “Where’s your table?”

Mark picks up the other tray, leading the way to the boys. Chenle is the first to notice Mark approaching, and he’s quick to notify the rest of the person following behind Mark. By the time you had arrived at the table, their stares are boring into you. Mark coughs awkwardly, trying to signal at them to stop staring, but his friends don’t seem to get it.

“Hey, 06,” one of them calls. ‘06’; the nickname you somehow go by on campus, just because of the jacket you always have on. You look in the direction of the voice, to be greeted by a somewhat familiar face. You remember him, only because he’s one of the only students from your ethics class who dares to have an opinion on things. You liked his gusto. “Hi,” you say.

You hold up your cup of chai tea by its sleeve, giving a slight tilt of the head at Mark, before turning around to take your leave.

“Damn, Mark, you work fast,” Jeno teases, taking his plate of food over to his side of the table. Mark rolls his eyes, explaining briefly that he simply paid for your drink because you forgot to bring your wallet. Luckily for him, his friends lose interest in topics as quickly as they get interested in them. Everyone is now listening to Jaemin rambling on about how the lecturer in his class is the most unreasonable man he’s ever met in his “many” years of living.

Mark is half-focused on the conversation, but the other half of his mind is occupied by the image of you.

Perhaps it’s the way that you managed to maintain a blank expression without smiling even once, during the entire interaction, or it’s the way you didn’t hesitate to leave without looking back. It could even be the way you’re so nonchalant about everything. Either way, Mark has come to realise one thing.

He can’t keep his eyes off of you.

You run a hand through your hair, exiting the lift. You reach into your bag, pulling out the exact amount of change for the chai tea from yesterday. Entering the lecture hall, you skim through the vicinity, spotting Mark by the middle row. He’s staring up at his purple-haired friend in awe, laughing while hitting the brown-haired boy next to him. Despite the round-frame glasses he has on today, you’re sure that this time, you definitely saw the sparkle in his eyes.

You make your way up to Mark, standing a distance away, behind the purple-haired boy who stands in the way in getting to Mark. You lean to the left a little, waiting for Mark to catch your eye. He doesn’t, but his brown-haired friend notices you, and he’s quick to gesture the black-haired boy towards you. Mark’s smile widens when he makes eye contact with you. He stands up, brushing past the purple-haired boy, towards you. You can’t help but be conscious of the slight tugging at the ends of your lips. You manage to supress it, but it’s undeniable that you just felt the minor urge to smile.

“Hey,” he greets. You hold out the money, “Thanks,” you say. Mark’s fingertips brushes against your palm as he takes the money from you. You turn, about to walk to a different row, but you’re stopped by the slight tugging at your sleeve. You look down, to see two fingers pinching at the end of your sleeve. Your eyes travel up the arm, past the neck, to the eyes of Mark, who is holding on to your sleeve.

“Sit with us,” he says. Mark isn’t sure if the reason he’s offering is because you’re always sitting alone during lectures, or it’s because he wants to be able to prolong the time he’s able to spend with you, without looking like some creep. Either way, he’s anticipating your answer.

Your eyes travel back down to Mark’s two fingers that are still holding on to your sleeve. Mark is lucky he didn’t grab your wrist, because you would’ve shrugged it off so harshly, that it’d probably ruin any chances of him ever wanting to reconcile with you. You’re not sure if Mark grabbed your sleeve with the knowledge of how much you hate physical contact, or if Mark is just so considerate to the point where he won’t lay a finger on someone he doesn’t really know. But the fact that he’s respectful enough to not touch you is the only factor that makes you say, “Okay.”

Mark shifts his things over to the seat next to you. “By the way,” he says, waiting for you to look up. “This is Donghyuck and Jeno,” he introduces, gesturing towards the purple-haired boy then the brown-haired boy. Jeno smiles sweetly, while Donghyuck simply gives a nonchalant bow, before sliding into his seat. They don’t ask for your name. You wonder if Mark had told them not to; maybe your encounter with Mark yesterday had sparked an entire discussion about you. You’re usually not one to care for these things, but you aren’t able to stop the constant thought about the fact that if they did indeed discuss about you, what did Mark have to say?

“Where’s your laptop?” Mark asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. “I don’t bring one,” you reply. You expect his next question, so you explain before he even asks, “I don’t see a need for it.” Mark nods his head, but you’re positive he doesn’t understand why you feel that there’s no need for a laptop.

The lecturer begins at that point, so the two of you turn to focus your attention on the lecture.

“Alright, remember that we’ll be needing your textbook for the next lecture,” the lecturer announces, disconnecting his laptop from the visualiser. The lecture hall is filled with groans and yawns, some students who are quick to leave, while others stay behind to exchange small talk with their peers.

You sling your tote bag over your shoulder, standing up from your seat. Mark notices this, but he’s quick to react. “Hey,” he calls. You turn your head, looking down at the boy. You want to know the reason behind how Mark is always able to keep that same bright smile on his face. Come to think of it, you don’t remember seeing him with a serious expression at all. You continue to stare, waiting for Mark to continue his sentence.

“Do you want to join us for lunch?”

You don’t even spare a moment to hesitate. “No,” you reply.

“You should join us for lunch, 06. We don’t bite,” Jeno adds on. His eyes form pretty crescents when he smiles. You’re about to reject their offer, but Donghyuck cuts in, “I’ll bite. Why should we have lunch with 06?” He doesn’t spare you a glance, but you can tell from his expression, that he’s not your biggest fan. You see Jeno nudging the boy with his elbow, and Mark shooting a look of disapproval. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to let this Donghyuck kid have his way, but you find yourself agreeing to their offer before you’re even able to think twice. “I’m down for lunch,” you say. You’re too busy eyeing Donghyuck’s expression of displeasure to notice Mark’s perked up smile at your agreement.

Jeno and Donghyuck lead the way, while Mark follows your pace as you stroll along behind them. Mark is trying to dig through his brain for a topic to talk to you about. He sneaks a glance at you, your blank expression unreadable.

“Does having lunch with us make you feel uncomfortable?” Mark finally speaks up, turning his head to look at you. You’re quiet for a moment. Usually, the answer ‘yes’ would roll of your tongue without any conscious effort required. “A little,” is what you settle for. Mark nods his head, “I assure you my friends are all nice people,” he says, a small laugh decorating the end of his sentence. You nod your head, biting down on your bottom lip.

Soon enough, Jeno spots the other half of the group already seated in the café. You drag your feet behind the three boys, the stares from the rest evident.

“06 is joining us for lunch,” Jeno informs. Mark gestures you to take a seat by the far left of the table. Donghyuck claims the seat opposite to yours. “We can take turns?” Mark suggests, to which you give a nod of acknowledgement. Mark, Jeno, and two of the other boys head to get their food first. In the meantime, you’re left sitting in an extremely awkward silence. Donghyuck, who had his arms folded, back leaned against his chair, shifts his body to rest his folded arms on the table instead. He looks at you, stare cold and unpleasant. You furrow your brows. “What?” you say.

“Stay away from Mark.”

Your expression hardens further. “What are you talking about?”

“Mark isn’t like you. Stay away,” Donghyuck has a brow raised, his glare menacing. You’re unsure of what you could’ve possibly done to offend the boy to this extent, but you’re not interested enough to ask. You’re robbed of the chance to anyway, when Renjun decides to add himself to the conversation. He throws an arm around Donghyuck, a smile on his lips as he asks, “What’s got the two of you so serious?” Donghyuck shrugs, not forgetting to give you one more glare, almost as though it were a form of warning. You scoff, rolling your eyes as you look away from the two boys who are sitting opposite to you.

You can feel the familiar discomfort in your abdomen. Your hand instinctively finds its way to place pressure on the hurting area, the beads of cold sweat beginning to form. You can already feel your lips becoming drier with every passing second.

You decide there’s nothing worth staying for. If you’re not welcome, you’re not going to force your presence unto people. So you grab your bag, stand up, and begin to walk away from the table. You ignore Renjun’s call for you.

“What the heck did you say to 06?” Renjun hisses, shoving Donghyuck by the arm. “I only said what I needed to say,” the purple-haired boy murmurs in reply. Mark arrives back at the table first, placing his tray of food down. “Where’s 06?” he asks, looking at the empty chair that you once occupied. “Donghyuck said something that probably pissed 06 off,” Renjun tattles, shooting a glare in said boy’s direction. Mark looks to Donghyuck for an explanation, a brow raised questioningly.

Donghyuck shrugs the attention off, “Not my fault 06 can’t take honesty.”

You drop the bottle of painkillers into your bag. You comb your fingers through your hair, the perspiration from earlier causing the strands to cling together. You let out a small breath; at least the torment is over, for now.

You fixate your eyes on the floor, watching as your feet take turns to invade the little space your eyes can capture. You shove your free hand into the pocket of your letterman jacket, a cup of chai tea in your other hand. You replay the words Donghyuck had said to you earlier. Stay away from Mark, he said. Why? You never approached Mark to begin with. Yeah, you’re unfriendly and borderline rude but you’ve never done anything that would warrant an outright warning to keep away from someone. Mark isn’t like you, he said. What’s that supposed to mean? That Mark is the personification of rainbows and galaxies but you’re the personification of dirt and dark alleys?

You don’t understand what Donghyuck has against you. You scoff at the thought of the whole situation – good golly, you didn’t even know of Mark’s existence until he approached you in the café a day ago. Yet suddenly, you’re the biggest threat to Mark, in Donghyuck’s narrative.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you jump at the sudden tap on your shoulder, whipping your entire body around so fast that you collide with the being behind you, your chai tea staining his shirt. “I’m so sorry,” you gasp, tugging on the sleeve of your jacket to grab it in your palm, using the cloth to dab at the stains your tea has caused. The being giggles. Your brows furrow instantly; it’s a giggle you’re somewhat familiar with.

You look up to meet eyes with the owner of the giggle, Mark. He stares down at you, noticing the remnants of the ordeal you had been through – the greasy hair, the pale, almost chapped lips, the tired look in your eyes. He doesn’t think much of it, his smile maintaining its charm. “What are you doing here?” you question. Mark points at the building behind you, “I’m running some errands. What are you doing here? You left without saying anything earlier I didn’t expect to still see you around campus,” he beams. Your eyes travel back down, realising now that you still held the hem of his shirt in your hand. You let go, standing upright.

“I just didn’t feel like staying there,” you say. Mark doesn’t probe any further; he has an inkling that Donghyuck must’ve said something offensive. “Do you live on campus?” you ask, eyeing the very obvious chai tea stain on Mark’s shirt. “I don’t. Why?”

“If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll run back to the dorms to get a shirt for you.”

Mark’s smile widens. “That’ll be nice.”

After a short ten-minute walk, you push open the door to your single-room dormitory, also known as your safe space. In your time living here, you’ve never had anyone over. You don’t consider Mark the first, because you never really intended for him to enter your room. He just followed behind and stepped in himself, no invite whatsoever. You’re not really affected by it, retrieving an oversized t-shirt from your wardrobe the only concern in mind.

Mark looks around the small studio apartment, taking in how minimalistic the entire setting is. He realises you don’t even have any photos, memories, or decorations hanging on the wall. Everything is clean and neatly placed, your belongings categorised into the practical and the necessities. He looks over towards you, your head buried under the shirts and jackets you have hanging on the rod. His eyebrows raise in interest when he notices that by the left corner of the wardrobe, hangs another two letterman jackets identical to the one you have on. They all have the big ‘06’ imprinted on the back.

“Here,” you say, holding out a plain black oversized shirt. Mark takes it from you, commenting, “I didn’t know you had three of those,” he gestures to the letterman jacket that you’re semi-drowning in. You slide the door of your wardrobe close, “I have to have a replacement when one of them is in the wash.”

“Is there some meaning behind 6?”

You look into Mark’s eyes. The two of you share a moment. It’s the first time someone has asked about the meaning behind ‘06’. Maybe it’s because nobody else ever had the chance to, but even if they did, they’d probably just be asking for the fun of it. Every time Mark asks you something, you can tell from his gaze that he genuinely wants to know the answer. He genuinely listens to your replies, regardless of how insignificant or dismissive they may be. Maybe it’s because Mark is the first person in a long time that has ever showed even a minute sign of interest in you, but you find yourself satisfying his curiosity.

“There are many meanings to the number 6. The meaning I relate it to is the need to find ways to move past feelings of fear and anxiety, to manifest what I want.”

It’s Mark’s turn to be silent. He looks at you, your expression as blank as it has always been, your eyes shifting around from the awkwardness of the prolonged eye contact. He didn’t expect that answer. People usually either used their birthdates or their favourite number as their ‘representative’ number. You’re the first person to give him an actual meaning behind the decision you made.

“You’re really different,” Mark says, voice almost coming out as a whisper.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’ve never been complimented like that before. Heck, you don’t even know if it’s a compliment. But you’re unable to deny the heat that rushes to your face, the warmth that spreads throughout your body. You don’t know if Mark notices. You don’t know if Mark can tell. But when you see his eyes flicker to level with your cheeks, the heat that overwhelms you only intensifies.

Mark’s never been this bold before. He has never been this straightforward with anyone. When you don’t answer, he panics a little, but then he notices the rose pink that decorates your cheeks. Did he, perhaps, make you blush? Is this his first time witnessing something different from your signature blank expression?

“You should go change,” you blurt, averting the topic. You point towards the bathroom, “Over there.”

Mark nods his head, turning around, closing the bathroom door after he enters. You let out a huge breath, pursing your lips. First, he’s the cause of the urge to smile. Second, his words make you blush. Third – you place a hand against your chest, feeling for your heartbeat. Mark makes your heart thump.

You want to be around Mark.

Mark comes out of the bathroom, your oversized shirt decently fitting on him. He smiles, “Thank you,” he says. “I’m really sorry about that,” you say, pointing towards his chai tea-stained shirt. Mark shakes his head, “No big deal. I’ll see you around?”

You nod your head.

“See you around.”

It’s been four days since you’ve last seen Mark. The interval made you realise that your once empty mind is now filled with hints of Mark. His endearing smile would pop up in your mind every once in a while, and his childlike giggles would ring in your ears from time to time. Mark is the warm presence in your otherwise cold world.

You’re preoccupied with your thoughts when there’s a knock on the door. You glance at the clock – 5PM on a Sunday afternoon, and you’re not expecting any guests. You sigh, slipping on an oversized hoodie to cover up your worn-out t-shirt. Running your sleeved-palm over your face, you reach for the door handle, pushing it downwards,

Mark waits patiently for you to answer the door, the t-shirt you had lent him neatly folded in his hands. When you pull the door open, the wind from the swift motion causes your baby hairs to dance along with the wind, tickling the sides of your face. Mark feels his heart skip a beat, the moment playing out in half the time of its actual speed. He swallows.

You look up to meet eyes with Mark. Your brows raise momentarily,

“Sorry,” he begins, “For showing up unexpectedly. I just came by to return this,” he holds out your shirt. You look down at the article of clothing, taking it from his hands, nodding your head in understanding. “Thanks,” you say, reaching to lay the shirt on the table. You look towards Mark once more. “Anything else?” you question, seeing that he’s still standing in the corridor.

Mark looks down at his converse. He contemplates if he should do what he actually came here for. Jeno’s voice replays in his head – just man up and ask 06 to join us. Donghyuck needs to apologise for saying things he shouldn’t have said the other day anyway. Though Mark and the rest of the boys are still unaware of what exactly Donghyuck had said, he agrees with Jeno’s sentiments.

“Actually,” he pauses, biting down on his lower lip. There it is again; the feeling of the two ends of your lips being tugged upwards. You blink multiple times – did you just think Mark is… cute? You almost miss his next sentence, “Do you want to go to the roller rink with the guys?” he ends with a shy smile, his fingers automatically clasping together due to the nerves. He looks at you, patiently waiting for your answer.

Usually, the answer ‘no’ would have escaped your lips before you can even think twice. But at this very moment, you’re standing opposite Mark, looking into his eyes, hesitating. It feels as though you’re beginning to lose the composure you’ve spent your entire life building. The rational ways you’d utilise to stay away from people, they’re starting to become blurry, just because of the boy who stands before you.

The fine line you’ve drawn to divide yourself from the rest of the world has become blurry ever since Mark’s appearance.

To move past the fear and anxiety that comes with building a relationship, in order to manifest the friendship that you seek.

You nod your head. “Sounds cool.”

So you find yourself trailing behind Mark at 5:37PM in the afternoon, eyes roaming around the vicinity in curiosity, taking in the very unfamiliar, loud, neon-filled surrounding. You’ve never been to any place of entertainment before, let alone a roller rink that majority of the population have never even been near. In some way, you guys are lucky enough to be schooling in this area – the roller rink is a ’90s themed hangout spot, with a jukebox that’s unique to every table, in comparison to the central speaker system used in all other modern buildings. A small smile creeps its way up your lips; you’re in a trance from the vibes of the place.

If there’s anything you love in this world, it’s nostalgia. Every movie you’ve ever liked, every series you’ve ever binged, they all screamed the ’90s. You’re extra sold by the fact that the different jukeboxes are rolling tunes from Destiny’s Child, Backstreet Boys, Guns N’ Roses, instead of the 21st century pop or rap that would be blasting in any other joint. Your smile widens, but you don’t even realise it. You’re finding more joy in this dated roller rink than you’ve ever felt anywhere else.

Mark turns around to tell you something. Instead, he stops in his tracks, the smile that spreads across your lips stunning him. The way your eyes light up, complementing your smile, and the way the apples of your cheeks are dabbed in a light scarlet; you’ve never looked more ravishing than you do in this very moment. Mark isn’t sure what’s the reason behind your smile, but he’s glad he managed to capture the moment first-hand.

You’re too busy basking in the glory of the vibes of the place that you don’t realise Mark has stopped walking. You almost bump into him, but you managed to stop in time. You’re now standing a small distance in front of Mark, who’s just staring at you. You don’t realise why, until your cheek muscles provide you with the answer. You let out a small gasp, your smile vanishing instantly. You cough, pursing your lips.

“What?” you say, shamelessly.

Mark doesn’t push for anything. He simply widens his smile, “They’re over there,” he says, pointing to the booth that’s hidden in the corner. You nod your head, gesturing for Mark to continue leading the way, while you followed behind. You mentally slap yourself – you’ve revealed way too many sides of yourself to Mark, that’s telling of who you truly are as a person, and not who you want people to think you are. You shake your head; maybe Mark hasn’t caught on. Maybe Mark just thinks you’re a looney ball. There’s a high possibility of that.

“06!” the blue-haired boy calls, a bright smile accompanying his greeting. “I’m Jaemin,” he says, “Didn’t get to introduce myself the other time, before you left.” You nod your head in acknowledgement.

“I’m Chenle,” the other black-haired, fair skinned one waves. “Jisung,” the brown-haired, coupled with lighter brown highlights, introduces. You nod your head at both of them; you can tell those two can’t be bothered about you. They’re too engrossed in whatever game they’re playing on their handphones.

“Hey, 06,” Jeno greets, as you claim the seat beside him. Donghyuck just shoots you a look, before averting his attention back to the conversation he was having with Renjun. “I’m glad you came,” Jeno continues. “Why’d you leave so quick the other day?”

“No reason,” you reply.

Jeno simply purses his lips, nodding his head. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, but you’re appreciative that he doesn’t probe. Instead, Jeno calls over the table, “Let’s go rollerblade,” to the rest of the boys. Jisung and Chenle are practically dragged away from their phones by Jaemin, while Donghyuck is forced to remain in his seat by Renjun, who runs after the rest. Mark sends you a small smile, “You can just find us later,” he says, before following after the rest of the boys, leaving you and Donghyuck at the booth. You’re only catching on now that you were invited with a motive.

“They’re expecting me to apologise,” Donghyuck states, breaking the silence. You look towards him, his stare still as unwelcoming as it was four days ago. “But I’m not going to.”

You let out a breath of disbelief, furrowing one brow. “I don’t think I’ve ever offended you,” you say.

“You haven’t. But I can see through you,” he says, leaning his body forward tauntingly. He raises a brow, the side of his lip twitching, “You’re not serious about Mark.”

You roll your eyes. You mirror his position, resting your folded arms atop the table. “I’m not even interested in Mark.”

“You’re already starting to be interested,” he says, hitting the exact spot. He isn’t wrong. “And it’s only going to go downhill from here. Leave while you still can.” You can’t tell if Donghyuck is just being a protective friend, or if he just hates you for no apparent reason. You just want to know why he’s so adamant about the fact that your relationship with Mark will never work out. As though he’s able to read your mind, he answers that very question.

“Commitment doesn’t exist in your dictionary,” he states.

He’s right. Commitment doesn’t and cannot exist in your world. Your mouth is left open, but you’re not able to say anything in return. You bite down on your lower lip; Donghyuck is right. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but it’s clearly evident now. If you were to continue letting whatever you have with Mark develop, and for some reason, Mark sees things in a romantic light, he’s going to end up hurt. You’ve never really considered it from Mark’s perspective. While you’re trying to take everything as a platonic somewhat friendship, he might not hold the same viewpoint. For goodness sake, you’ve already began to see Mark romantically. You don’t know what’s on his mind.

“I’m going to go rollerblade,” you murmur, sliding yourself off the seat, out of the booth. You walk towards the rental booth, retrieving a pair of rollerblades. As you remove your sneakers to change into the rollerblades, Donghyuck’s words keep ringing in your head. It’s only going to go downhill from here, he said. You let out a hesitant breath – how would he know, right…?

You tighten the lace of the rollerblade, getting up, heading into the rink through the small opening. With your eyes fixed on the floor, you lunge yourself forward, Donghyuck’s words still replaying in your mind like a mantra. It’s only going to go downhill from here, he said.

The pain is here again. It’s intense. You furrow your brows and purse your lips, letting out a restrained gasp, your hand clutching onto your abdomen. You’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice the human-sized advertisement board that’s stationed in the middle of the rink. You’re not sure what happened, but the last thing you remember, is Jeno’s loud call for you, and Donghyuck’s words that keep haunting you – it’s only going to go downhill from here. You’ve blacked out.

Renjun is the first to arrive by your side, holding you up by your head. “What are we going to do?” Jisung panics, eyes fixated on the large cut on your forehead. “Go get the first aid kit,” Renjun calmly instructs. Jisung hurries to the front desk, while Mark removes his rollerblades in a hurry. “We have to get 06 out of here.” Mark lifts your body up bridal style, the rest of the boys surrounding him to ensure that the other people in the rink are kept at a distance.

Jeno holds the door open, while Mark enters, making his way to your bed. He waits as Jeno rushes over, pulling the comforter off the bed. Mark lays you down. “I’m going to go make sure we don’t get a ticket for the illegal parking,” Jeno says, handing Mark the key card to your dorm. Mark nods his head, “I’ll be down in a moment.”

Mark walks over to the bathroom, in search for a face towel. He finds one, turns on the tap, drenches it with water, turns off the tap, and wrings it, before making his way back to your sleeping figure. He folds the towel into a quarter, lightly dabbing at your face to get rid of the oils. When he’s done, he washes the towel out, hanging it by the drying rack. Mark notices you don’t have a humidifier in your room. He looks over at the kitchen. He pulls out the first drawer, hoping to find a glass, but instead, he finds a stash of photos you had chucked into the drawer.

He remembers how the first thing he noticed when he first came, was the fact that you didn’t have anything of sentimental value on display. He had thought you just simply didn’t care for it, but he realises now you do own things of sentimental value. You just didn’t have them on show. He skims through the stash – he realises how much you’ve changed physically; your body has significantly shrunk in comparison to before. He also realises you’ve done many things in your life. Your life seems even more carefree than you let on. He smiles.

Mark lays the glass of water he had filled by your bedside table. Grabbing the ends of the comforter, he brings it over your body, beginning to tuck you in. He notices your left hand peeking out of the comforter, so he holds it gently, placing it under the comforter. When he tries to pull away, he notices the sudden grip on his hand. He looks at your face; you’re still knocked out from the accident. Your slightly scrunched up facial features seem to indicate that you’re in discomfort.

“Are you awake?” he whispers. There’s no reply. He loosens up – he thinks he’s just misinterpreting your expression.

Mark takes the opportunity to stare at you a little longer. The soft breaths you let out the cutest thing he’s ever witnessed. The image of your smile flashes in Mark’s mind; he doesn’t understand why you don’t allow yourself to smile more often. Slowly, your grip on his hand loosens. Mark will remember your warm touch, even if you don’t remember his.

“Goodnight, 06,” he says, taking in your entirety one last time, before taking his leave.

You turn your head to the right, vision still blurry from both the fall and the excruciating pain in your abdomen. The tension in your body relaxes ever so slightly when you note that Mark only opened the first drawer. If he had gone on to the next, he would’ve discovered the one thing you’d never want him to know.

You wanted to finally be able to muster up the courage to ask Mark to stay. Maybe if he were by your side, things would be easier. But Mark doesn’t deserve such torment.

That night, as Mark tosses and turns in bed, he just can’t seem to rid the image of your smile off his head. He smiles, stuffing his face into his pillow. He can’t believe he’s fussing over something as simple as your smile. Perhaps Mark has delved deeper into your charms than he’s conscious of.

He’s just glad he has the next excuse to meet you again – the injury on your head.

Another three days have gone by since the roller rink incident. It’s to your luck that there weren’t any classes for the past three days, because the episodes were getting more frequent. It also gave you some time to heal the big fat scar on your forehead. You decide that it looks safe enough to just be left bare without a band-aid to cover it. You honestly can’t be bothered if the sight of the red cut freaks other students out. The wound needs to breathe to leave.

You enter the lecture hall, already catching some unwanted attention. You ignore the stares, heading for your usual seat by the left aisle, away from the crowd. Three boys are already sitting there when you arrive. You raise a brow.

“Feeling better?” Jeno asks, eyes flickering to the cut on your forehead, before looking back down into your eyes. You nod your head. “Sorry. If we knew this would happen, we wouldn’t have asked you to the roller rink,” he says. You shrug, “I chose to rollerblade on my own,” you say. It isn’t anybody’s fault this happened. In fact, you’re kind of glad it happened. At least it meant that you didn’t have to go back to the booth to face Donghyuck’s scrutiny. Speaking of, the boy is just sitting there, staring at the front of the hall, completely disinterested in you.

“I’m going to sit elsewhere,” you say, taking the first ascending step. Mark wraps his fingers around your wrist, a loose hold keeping you in place. It’s not even surprising anymore that you don’t immediately shrug his grip off. Maybe a part of you is slowly getting used to Mark. Maybe a part of you is slowly coming to accept Mark as somebody that you want in your life. Maybe, just maybe, you think it’s worth risking the hurt that comes with relationships, if it means you can dwell in Mark’s presence for a little longer.

You turn to meet eyes with him. From his gaze, you already know he’s telling you to sit with them. Your eyes shift to glance at Donghyuck, who is glaring at you at this point. His glare is telling of how he wants you to reject Mark, to go sit somewhere else, to get off Mark’s case. You’re conflicted.

“I’ll see you later,” you say. Mark pauses for a moment, eventually letting go of your wrist.

You walk up, to a seat a few rows above them.

You remain in your seat as you watch the other students scurry out of the lecture theatre upon dismissal. Your eyes find its way to the back of a certain slightly curly, black-haired boy’s head. Your eyes shift to rest on the white bottle that has basically become your lifeline at this point. A bitter scoff escapes your lips as the words ring in your mind – things are not looking optimistic.

Maybe that is the only reason why you find yourself getting off your seat, slinging your tote bag over your shoulder, descending a few steps to arrive at Mark’s row. You wait by the aisle for him to notice you. He does this time, without Jeno’s help. He looks at you, smile immediately stretching across his lips. “I said I’d see you later,” you say. Mark’s smile widens a little at that. You ignore the dirty look from Donghyuck, and you’re no longer foreign to the soft stare from Jeno.

“Are you free right now?” you ask.

There’s a light bulb that’s suddenly illuminating in Mark’s heart. Perhaps it should be the other way around. Perhaps he should’ve been the one to ask, but he’d only have a 20 percent chance of being graced with the answer he longs for. But here you are, standing before him, the question rolling off your tongue so easily, with a 100 percent chance of being graced with the answer you want to hear. Mark doesn’t even need to think twice. He’s been waiting for this, and he’s excited. He’s getting the feeling of warmth spreading throughout his body. His smile only gets bigger as he replies, “What do you have in mind?”

In 15 minutes, the two of you are still within the vicinity of the campus, but in land that is foreign to Mark, yet it’s as close as a second home to you. Mark looks over the horizon, the view simply striking to him. He never knew that such a place, let alone such a view, was in reach in a matter of minutes. It’s probably because it’s in restricted premises, but you don’t tell him that. His goody-two-shoes nature would freak out. But that’s a part of Mark’s charm.

“Damn,” he gasps, taking in a breath, “This is amazing.”

For the first time ever, in front of someone that’s not your reflection in the mirror, you smile, willingly. The way the gentle breeze tickles your skin, the way the rustling of the leaves creates a pleasant melody, the way the view serves as the perfect panoramic shot in a romance movie. It’s all fantasy, and it’s all your imagination. But at least you’re sharing it with the one person you’ve somehow created a bond with. People might think it’s ridiculous, you’ve barely interacted with the boy for more than two weeks. But those people are the same people who don’t believe that feelings of attachment and liking comes quickly, and they’ll always get to you. You can’t stop falling. That’s the fatal part of attraction.

You turn to look at Mark. You openly stare at his side profile, taking in his entirety, memorising the sound of his giggles, the little nose scrunch when he laughs, and the way his eyes light up when he smiles. Who knows? This might be the last.

Mark turns to look at you. He gazes into your eyes. It’s so heart-stopping you feel your breath hitch in your throat. Your heart is fluttering at the eye contact. He’s smiling, and he’s smiling for you. Maybe he has been all this while. But now, you’re smiling, and you’re smiling for him. You wonder what he’s thinking about.

Mark stares at you. Mark watches your eyes light up with joy, but he doesn’t know what sparks it. Mark notices how you are finally able to freely give in to the urge of allowing the two ends of your lips to be tugged upwards; Mark takes note of the way your eyes form crescents, the way the pink in your cheeks become prominent under the sunlight. It is as though the entire scene is unravelling in front of him in slow motion. The scene that stars only you.

The both of you feel it – the attraction. You’re fully aware of the reality of the situation in this moment. Mark is the warmth you don’t deserve. You’re the cold that’s toxic to him. Maybe not now, but you’ll eventually be.

Mark isn’t sure what’s got him so confident. Perhaps it’s the way your smile seems to be giving him the consent he seeks, and perhaps it’s the fact that he’s only realising now how hard he has fallen for you. You’re like the soil; regardless of how much he has dug, he still has so much more to dig. He doesn’t know you fully yet, and he isn’t confident that he ever will. He knows he wants to.

You notice when Mark’s eyes drop to your lips. Your body tenses as he inches forward, bit by bit. You want him to close the gap. You want his lips to come into contact with yours. You want to feel Mark’s warmth. But you know it all too well – warm and cold don’t mix well. They’re not meant for each other. You’re not Mark’s fate.

You place your hand on his chest; he stops immediately, eyes snapping up to meet yours. Embarrassed, he immediately takes a step back, avoiding eye contact, tugging at the hem of his shirt, letting out an awkward cough. “I’m so sorry,” he says. He mentally berates himself. You reach out, interlocking your fingers with his. He looks back at you, eyebrows raised, mouth forming an ‘o’. You remember that face. You let out a chuckle. That might just be the most beautiful thing Mark has ever heard. He doesn’t tell you, though.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say. Mark lets out a sigh of relief, “Good, otherwise it will be really awkward.” You chuckle once more – gosh, he’s really cute.

You reach into your pocket, pulling out the film you had prepared with the intention of giving it to Mark. You hold it out, and he takes it, analysing the photo. “What’s this?” he mutters, taking a closer look. He realises it’s a photo of your letterman jacket, the iconic ‘06’ that everyone has learned to associate you with, in full view. He looks up to meet eyes with you, awaiting your explanation. You smile, averting your attention to the beautiful view.

“Just because,” you say. Mark doesn’t understand.

“Mark?” you call.

“Yeah?”

“We have the whole of next week off, right?” Mark hums in response.

“Let’s meet here in exactly one week,” you turn to look him in the eyes. Maybe then, we can have our first kiss.

Mark smiles.

“Okay.”

Mark taps his fingers on the grass. He’s been waiting for an hour, but there’s still no sight of you. He checks the time – 4PM. He decides that you’re probably held back by something, so he continues to wait, biting on the insides of his lips as he counts down the minutes.

Another two hours go by. Mark is now laying on the grass, staring up at the sun that is beginning to set. He’s not sure why you still haven’t shown. Mark wonders if you have forgotten your promise to meet here today. It’s been a week of absolutely no contact, after all. He decides that it’s unlikely that you’ve forgotten. He believes you’ll show, so he continues to wait.

Another hour goes by. The sky is almost dark now. Mark sighs. Did you change your mind? Mark stands up. Usually, he’s not one to confront. But Mark treasures this connection. Mark wants to make things work, even if it means having to take multiple steps forward, whenever you take one step backwards. Mark begins the trail to the campus dormitories. Even if you’ve changed your mind, he deserves to know.

Mark knocks on your door. He waits. There’s no reply.

Mark knocks again. Silence.

’06?” he calls, knocking once more.

Your neighbour peeks her head out. “Are you looking for the tenant?” she asks. Mark nods his head. “The tenant already moved out,” she says. “What?” was all that Mark manages out.

Mark’s heart begins to pick pace, but not in a good way. He rushes down to the front desk.

“Did the student who lives in room 612 move out?” he asks, panting to catch his breath. The front desk lady looks stunned for a moment, but doesn’t question Mark’s intentions. She types at her desktop, clicks a few times, before replying with, “Oh, this student,” she says, distinctly recalling the haste in your exit. “Moved out a few days ago. It was so sudden, didn’t even bother about the overpaid rent,” she comments. Mark’s brows knit at the revelation. “06 left?” he breathes.

While the rest of the boys were busily engaged in their small clusters of conversation, Donghyuck has his eyes fixed on Mark. He knew this would happen. Donghyuck’s eyes rests upon the film that Mark holds with his fingers, as though it’s the most precious object he has ever laid his hands on. Donghyuck sighs. Mark looks up at Donghyuck briefly, a faint smile forming on his lips. Donghyuck clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval.

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck questions, even though he knows what the exact answer is. Mark shrugs, affirming Donghyuck’s assumption. “Seriously, when are you going to stop thinking about that person? It’s been months, close to a year, and you’re still holding onto the futile hope that something will change? Because it won’t.”

Mark lowers his gaze. He scoffs bitterly, “Maybe you’re right.”

“There’s no maybe, I’m always right.”

Mark doesn’t respond. Donghyuck looks at him, taking note of the genuine sorrow in his eyes. Mark has changed a lot within the span of the past few months. The Mark that was once overflowing with joy, bursting out in giggles and laughter over the smallest things; that Mark is gone. The Mark before him right now, is a Mark that hasn’t shown any signs of genuine happiness in forever. The Mark before him, is a Mark that has long forgotten how to feel the different emotions. That is, except one emotion – longing.

Donghyuck lets out another sigh.

Mark turns the film around. Hidden in the corner of the black coating, were the letters that forms your name, inked in black marker. It can only be seen when the light directly reflects upon the letters. Mark smiles a bittersweet smile. He remembers how carefree you were as a person. He remembers drawing up a mental metaphor to compare the way you lived life, to dancing. You lived everyday like you were dancing. Even more than he’d ever know.

Mark wonders where, with whom, and to what music you’d be dancing to now.

Without leaving a span of a shadow, where did you disappear to?

Hidden in the corner, amongst the very many slabs with semi-circular tops, sits one lonely slab, that is patiently waiting for the visitor who’ll never show up.

#nct scenarios #mark scenarios #mark angst #mark fluff #mark #nct angst #nct fluff #nct imagines #mark imagines #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct mark #fic #fic: perhaps; maybe

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andie-cake · 3 years

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is Paul in any way cognizant on his own, does he have any kind of internal dialogue with Pokey still or is it just static up there?

So to answer the second ask first, I hadn't heard the song (bc fun fact about me! the only music in my spotify library is showtunes and the soundtrack albums for psychonauts 1 and 2! i'm trying to get better about that), so I took a second to listen to it. First of all, dig the instrumentals, not totally sure how much I vibe with the vocals? I do like the title "What's in Your Head" tho, I may consider that.

Now to answer the first question, he is cognizant to a certain degree. I think the best way to describe his state of consciousness is "dream-like". Words sound like nonsense, but he understands them just fine. All touch feels basically the same, just a vague pins and needles feeling. He can see fine, though there's a hazy blue tint over his vision. His senses of smell and taste are basically gone tho.

As for what's actually happening in his head, there's 4 stages of Paul Lucidity. There's fully lucid, which is just the Paul we all know. He only really emerges when Emma triggers a memory of Hatchetfield. There's half-responsive, which is basically his default state in this au. There's conscious, but unresponsive, which occurs when he's awake, but talking with Pokey. He appears basically the same as half-responsive in this state, but he can't acknowledge any outside contact. Essentially, no thoughts, head Pokey. And finally there's unconscious, which is sleep, or Pokey taking over to speak with Katherine.

#what's in your head au

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formerdirectioner · 3 years

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Literally what is it about kpop I feel like I blinked and half my dash had turned into kpop stans and I used to really like your takes on One Direction but now you’re a kpop stan too I just really don’t get it they seem even more manufactured than 1D to me

I think to me, it depends on your definition of the term manufactured. Like, I think in some ways, the fact that they are quite open about being put in groups by agencies and not actually being like best friends since childhood or whatever makes their interactions with each other feel a lot more real than they were in groups like One Direction where they kept playing up that they were best friends and brothers but by the end of the group you could tell half of them didn’t even really like each other.

The kpop industry is fucked up and exploitative in a lot of ways, I won’t deny that. But I feel the same way about the western music industry and the film industry and every industry basically. These are young kids who move away from their families as teenagers and get worked to the bone for a chance to debut and the amount of time that they actually get to be in an active group varies but can be relatively short, with most contracts being seven years but some groups being as short as 2 1/2. There are also fucked up aspects like trainee debt, where children who don’t debut then owe money to the company for the cost of basically raising them, although from what I understand this isn’t as common anymore.

But that doesn’t mean the members themselves are fake or manufactured or bad. They certainly are products of their environment, with a lot of them doing things like getting plastic surgery before they’re even done debuting and not really understanding how ~common people live their lives bc despite being in school as trainees most of them go to performing arts schools specifically for trainees so they have time to practice or perform schedules if they debut before they graduate. But they’re also still human.

A lot of the groups I stan produce and write their own music, do things like weekly livestreams to talk to fans, come on social media quite often to share their days or joke around with their fans, etc. People like Namjoon from BTS and Chan from Stray Kids are known for being super open with fans and being a very huge comfort for people. The rap line of BTS and 3racha of Stray Kids actually write music with less writers than every member of One Direction currently does and the music gets really deep and discusses things like mental illness, heartbreak, their lives as idols, etc. I really recommend songs like uhgood from RM and alien by han jisung to get a taste of what I’m saying.

It’s possible that all members of kpop groups are really well trained to wear a mask 24/7 and nothing we see is real, there’s no doubt of that. They definitely play up things like ships and certain aspects of their personalities on camera too, for fans. But a lot of kpop stans know that and fully acknowledge it and still love the members for the pieces we see of the real them anyway. So yes, the groups are quite literally manufactured, and idols are supposed to have a certain image, but it doesn’t mean that they can’t still share large pieces of themselves and connect with fans. It’s that connection that endears and traps people so easily and quickly.

Also the music is usually fire. haha.

#ask #not 1d

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youngboy-oldmind · 3 years

Text

IN DEPTH REVIEW- DAMN Part III

I took a break from this series for March (Women’s History Month) and then had a surge of other projects to listen to in April. But I’m back with an in depth review DAMN, specifically two sister tracks, “PRIDE” and “HUMBLE”.

These two tracks address Kendrick wrestling pride. One side of the coin has him hating his temptation to feed into pride and embrace those emotions. The other side has him proudly bragging about himself and establishing others as below him. I mentioned in a previous review this album has a bipolar aura, and there’s no better example than these two tracks that have him accepting and rejecting this biblical sin.

PRIDE

“PRIDE” continues the mellow sound of the previous track “LOYALTY”. We hear a vocal of Bekon stating “Love’s gonna get you killed. But pride’s gonna be the death of you and me” with “you and me” echoing into the transition to the change in instrumental. Then we hear the chorus where Kendrick and guest singer Steve Lacy state they weren’t taught to share or care, but in a perfect world they definitely would. Then we get a couple of verses where Kendrick discusses his conflict between embracing or rejecting pride. He discusses the role pride has in his music, fame, relationships, and social status.

The instrumental is one of the most dreary on the album. The moaning inflections give an angelic yet sad aura throughout the song. Like even the lighthearted, supernatural forces see this conflict as unsolvable and depressing. Kendrick’s duality is also expressed by his voice gradients of high pitched to low pitch.

You can feel Kendrick’s internal conflict regarding pride. Continuing the biblical themes of this project, especially a common visited idea of fearing futility in avoiding damnation. He mentions several times how he would have less pride in a perfect world, but since a perfect world is impossible, he’s navigating being the best person in an environment that fosters the worst. An interesting concept he explores in this track is “faking humble”. He embraces the fact he is one of the best rappers today, and arguably one of the best ever. Pretending he isn’t wouldn’t be humble, it would just be dishonest. Yet, he feels conflicting in taking pride in his status while acknowledging it is accurate and well earned. He complicates this sentiment into an unsolvable problem. That carries into the next song.

HUMBLE

“HUMBLE” completely counters the sentiments of the previous track. Kendrick unwaveringly boasts about himself. He talks about how he could murk somebody without the influence of drugs and alcohol. He is real while others fabricate. He has unparalleled connections to influential people. And ultimately has bragging rights, an ironic take on a song called “HUMBLE”. But, I’m 100% sure this was intentional.

The production on this record was mind boggling as well. We hear a very hasty “nobody pray for me” which usually indicates a more chaotic cut off this record. And the super dark piano melody intensified this track. The music video is also something to behold; I could make a whole separate post just analyzing the music video.

For a song boasting at this magnitude, one would think it would be difficult to reach any kind of lyrical complexity. But Kendrick still delivers plenty of lines that took multiple listens just to fully comprehend what he’s saying as well as the layers beneath it. My favorite of this are the first four lines in the first verse.

“Ayy, I remember syrup sandwiches and crime allowances

Finesse a n**** with some counterfeits, but now I'm countin’ this

Parmesan where my accountant lives, in fact I'm downin' this

Dusse with my boo bae tastes like Kool-Aid for the analysts”

I had to listen to these lines at least 5 times to figure out what all this means. But I finally was able to make sense of it all. First, the sentence structure is broken to create the rhyme and syllable scheme. So to understand better, it might be easier to read it in a sentence/paragraph structure.

“I remember syrup sandwiches and crime allowances, finesse a n**** with some counterfeits.

But now I'm countin’ this parmesan where my accountant lives.

In fact I'm downin' this Dusse with my boo bae, tastes like Kool-Aid for the analysts”

Here we get a brief narrative telling the origin story of Kendrick compared to where he is today. He went from poor food (syrup sandwiches), and earning money from counterfeiting and crime, to counting Parmesan (aka cheese aka slang for money) with his accountant. To further the point, he mentions he’s drinking Dusse with his “boo bae”. Dusse, an expensive cognac, is often referred to in hip hop to reflect wealth and high status. The last line changes from a narrative to a commentary on analysts and critics. “Dusse with my boo bae tastes like Kool Aid for the analysts”. This line suggests that analysts drink Dusse and treat it like Kool AId. Metaphorically speaking.

Analysts will receive a very layered, complex, high quality message from Kendrick yet they summarize it as promoting violence and brutality. This idea was explored in the end of “BLOOD” with the fox news criticizing Kendrick Lamar for his lyrics on “Alright” off To Pimp A Butterfly. They generalized his sound and music as negative propaganda. It isn’t a coincidence that he used Dusse and Kool Aid as the drinks in the metaphor since both are associated with the black community. Someone who is stereotypical or racist may unjustly associate Kool Aid with people of color.

I read another analysis that stated the usage of Kool Aid refers to the well known phrase in the black community “all in the Kool Aid and don’t know the flavor”. Basically meaning forming an opinion or judgement without being aware of the full context your passing judgement upon. This analysis makes sense, especially in the context of these lines. Kendrick gives a story of where he’s coming from and analysts make judgement without knowing his past. I don’t take credit for this analysis, but I agree with it.

“HUMBLE” is a very intense track. And I only analyzed four of the many lines in this record. This entire album is layered and littered with messages. This track matches that energy. As Kendrick put it:

“There’s levels to it, you and I know. B**** be, humble”

Part IV Coming Soon

#album review #music review #hip hop review #hip hop #Kendrick Lamar #music blog

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terramythos · 3 years

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TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 10 of 26

Title: The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890)

Author: Oscar Wilde

Genre/Tags: Fiction, Gothic Horror, Third-Person, LGBT Protagonist (I... guess)

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 4/13/2021

Date Finished: 4/20/2021

When artist Basil Hallward paints a picture of the beautiful and innocent Dorian Gray, he believes he’s created his masterpiece. Seeing himself on the canvas, Dorian wishes to remain forever young and beautiful while the portrait ages in his stead. The bargain comes true. While Dorian grows older and descends a path of hedonism and moral corruption, his portrait changes to reflect his true nature while his physical body remains eternally youthful. As his debauchery grows worse, and the portrait warps to reflect his corruption, Dorian’s past begins to catch up to him.

Perhaps one never seems so much at one’s ease as when one has to play a part. Certainly no one looking at Dorian Gray that night could have believed that he had passed through a tragedy as horrible as any tragedy of our age. Those finely-shaped fingers could never have clutched a knife for sin, nor those smiling lips have cried out on God and goodness. He himself could not help wondering at the calm of his demeanour, and for a moment felt keenly the terrible pleasure of a double life.

Full review, some spoilers, and content warnings under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Misogyny (mostly satirical). Racism and antisemitism (not so much). Emotional manipulation, blackmail, suicide, graphic murder, and death. Recreational drug use.

Reviewing a classic novel through a modern lens is always going to be a challenge for me. The world seems to change a lot every decade, let alone every century—whether some canonized classic holds up today is pretty hit or miss (sorry, English degree). And considering the sheer amount of academic focus on classic texts, it’s not like I’m going to have a “fresh take” on one for a casual review. I read and reviewed The Count of Monte Cristo last year, and thought it aged remarkably well over 170+ years.

Somehow I never read Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray for school. I tried reading it independently in my late teens/early twenties, and honestly think I was just too stupid for it. Needing a shorter read before the next Murderbot book releases at the end of the month, I grabbed Dorian Gray off the shelf and decided to give it another shot. By the end, I was pleasantly surprised how much I liked the book.

I’m actually going to discuss my pain points before I get into what worked for me. The first half of the book is very slow-paced. The Picture of Dorian Gray is famous for… well… the picture. But it isn’t relevant until the halfway point of the novel, when Dorian does something truly reprehensible and finds his image in the picture has changed. There’s a lot of setup before this discovery. The first half of the book has a lot of fluff, with characters talking about stuff that happened off screen, discussing various philosophies, and so on without progressing the story. Some of this is fine, as it establishes Dorian’s initial character so the contrast later is all the more striking. I just think it could have been shorter. I realize this comes down to personal taste.

I’m also torn on the Wilde’s writing style. He’s very clever, and there are many philosophical ideas in his writing that did genuinely made me stop and think. The prose is also beautiful and descriptive; this is especially useful when it contrasts the horror elements of the story. However, there’s a lot of unnatural, long monologue in the story. Not sure if it’s the time period, Wilde’s background as a playwright, or just his writing style in general (maybe all three), but the characters ramble a LOT. My favorite game was trying to imagine how other characters were reacting to a literal wall of text.

I also feel the need to mention this book has some bigoted content, as implied in my content warnings. The misogyny in the story is satirical; it’s spouted by the biggest tool in the book, Lord Henry, whose whole shtick is being paradoxical. You just need basic critical thought to figure that out. However, some things don’t have that excuse. A minor character in the first half is an obvious anti-Semitic caricature. There’s also some pretty racist content, particularly when Wilde describes Gray’s musical instrument collection. While these are small parts of the book, it’d be disingenuous not to acknowledge them.

All that being said, there were many aspects of the book I enjoyed, particularly in the second half. Wilde does a great job characterizing terrible people who fully believe what they say. Lord Henry is an obvious example, and Dorian follows his lead as the story progresses. One of my favorite bits was after Sibyl’s suicide (which Dorian instigated by being a piece of shit). Dorian is initially shocked, but as he and Lord Henry discuss it, they come to the conclusion that her suicide was a good thing because it had thematic merit. It’s just such a brazen, horrible way to alleviate one’s guilt.

Dorian also goes to significant lengths to justify his actions. At one point, he murders Basil to keep the portrait a secret. While he briefly feels guilty about this, Dorian grows angry at the inconvenience of having killed this man, supposedly an old friend. He even separates himself from the situation, expressing that Basil died in such a horrible way. Bro, you killed him! It was you! The cognitive dissonance is just stunning.

It’s also viscerally satisfying to read about Dorian’s downfall as his awful choices catch up to him. Dorian becoming tormented by the portrait is just... *chef’s kiss*. Is it surprising? No, it’s pretty standard Gothic horror fare. But there’s something to be said about seeing a genuinely horrible man finally pay for what he’s done after getting away with it for so long. I wish real life worked that way.

There’s the picture itself, too. I know it’s The Thing most people know about this novel -- but I just think it’s a cool concept. I like the idea of someone’s likeness reflecting their true self, and the psychological effect it has on the subject. Most of the novel is fiction with realistic horror elements, but I like that there’s a touch of the supernatural thanks to Dorian’s picture. It’s an element I wouldn’t mind seeing in more works.

It's sad to read Dorian Gray with the context of what happened to Wilde. The homoeroticism in the novel is obvious, but tame compared to works today. Wilde and this book are a depressing case study in how queer people are simultaneously erased and reviled in recent history. Wilde was tortured for his homosexuality (and died from resulting health complications) over 100 years ago, yet the 1994 edition of Dorian Gray I read refers to his real homosexual relationship as a "close friendship". It's an infuriating and tragic paradox. Things have improved by inches, but we still have so far to go.

As I grow older I find I appreciate classic works more than when I was forced to read them for school. The Picture of Dorian Gray is a gripping Gothic horror story. Some aspects didn't age particularly well, but that's true for almost anything over time. If you're in the market for this kind of book, I do recommend it.

#this review is late but in my defense the nier remake came out #taylor reads #2021 reading challenge #8/10

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honeybinnies · 5 years

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CHARACTERS ☆ han jisung, reader (you), seo changbin, bang chan (mentioned)

PLOT ☆ wherein jisung, the mafia’s assassin, has a mission to retrieve a heirloom from the mafia’s heiress, you. to his surprise, he easily finds you alone on a night club, and finally, he work begins.

WORD COUNT ☆ 2.5k

WARNINGS ☆ this is rated E for sexual activity, alcohol and mentions of drugs. to minimize dashboard consumption, a keep reading header will be placed after the first paragraph. this is to respect other people’s content, as well as the time of the viewers.

DISCLAIMER ☆ i do not own stray kids. they belong to jyp entertainment. i only own the edit and the storyline itself.

NOTE ☆ this one-shot is written in third person point of view, so all mentions of “the woman” are directed to all female readers.

[10:18pm] jisung’s doing alright. wait, scratch that, jisung’s doing more than just alright. in fact, he’s living his best life at the moment. it’s ten in the evening in the noisy, sin-filled streets of gangnam-gu, and the bass is loud in the club he’s currently at. jisung grins as hr struts around the squeaked floors of the night club, clad in a silk button-up tucked down into some nice black jeans, two of his buttons loosened, flashing a bit of his collarbone where his tattoo peeked out shyly. his blonde hair is swooped to the side, and smudge of dark eyeshadow and glossed lips masks his features, making him ten times more regal underneath the neon lights, more alluring. he’s thriving as he walks to the bar to heed for a martini on the house, and he looks at the swaying bodies grinding against the music, please, relaxed.

“now this feels like home.” he smirks, letting out a sigh before grabbing a hold of his martini. he takes his sweet time upon ravishing the contents, the liquid coating his throat with the burning sensation he was looking for. he doesn’t even notice someone slide next to him as he does so, and neither does he flinch from his spot when the man speaks up.

“don’t get too relaxed, ji.” the man remarks, voice laden with slight amusement. “remember, we’re here because chan wanted you to fulfill a mission.”

the said man noises apprehensively, and down the remains of his martini, the alcohol burning the rest of throat just the way he likes it. “please, changbin. cut me some slack. i haven’t felt like this in years.” the statement leaves a snort from changbin himself, and turns to take a swig of beer before facing jisung once again. “it’s the only time you’ll ever be feeling like this, jisung. remember, we still have a little nation to overthrow?”

the younger tilts his head to face changbin, eyebrow quirked up in a unimpressed manner at the mention a pathetic empire muttered at his very ears. “don’t get me started on jaehyun’s bullshit, hyung. he doesn’t mean anything to me at the moment.”

changbin could only smirk at the flatness of his tone, before he spots a familiar figure moving across jisung. his gaze only darkens by the percentage, as a low hum draws from his throat. “9:00. that’s our target.” he gestures jisung to the figure, to which the other looks to his 9:00. he sees a woman in a scarily low v-neck cocktail dress, sparkled with red sequences, and jisung thinks that the make-up’s too slutty on her. he fights the urge to roll his eyes on the accentuated cleavage the dress is exposing her, however, he has no time to fancy on this visuals. his target is on the heirloom she adorns on her neck, and that is enough for jisung to have the need to just get it over with.

so, he flashes changbin an easy smile, and places his martini glass down. he pats his button-up once, twice, and adjusts a stiff strand on his parted forehead. “easy peasy. watch me.”

“i’d rather not see your seduction skills, ji. just do it.” changbin groans in response, and swats his hand in dismissal. jisung’s already doing his job as he ignores his underboss, and makes his way to the woman, who’s currently seated alone. she looks bored as she scans the place, as if she wants something interesting to happen to her, something exciting. jisung’s been there once; his first few years as an assassin was pretty much the same old boring routine that he’d find himself breaking every once in a while. he snorts at the memory of a fuming chan towering over him one time, when he was scattered on the sheets of another woman, cum dry on his stomach and blunts smoked beside the tabletop of the bedroom. he had rendered his life a mess that time, lost and nowhere to go. he had a mind to thank chan sometime for bringing him out of that misery, but as of now, he owes him treasure.

the moment jisung meets gazes with the bored woman, his expression switches to something more amiable. ease it up, he thinks to himself. let’s not bring things too fast. “hey, need company?”

the woman looks up at him, and snorts before looking back at the crowd, sullen. “go away. i don’t want to look like i got stood up tonight.”

jisung blinks at this, and momentarily judges her appearance before saying anything else. she has got to be kidding. only a dumb slut would show up to a date wearing clothes like that. either way, he’s dealt with sluttier women in his life, so he’s not the one to talk. “stood up, huh? don’t you think it’s a little past 10pm to be waiting for a date? and at a night club?”

it takes a while for the woman to respond, only busying herself with swirling the olive on her drink. after a few moments, she sighs in defeat, and nudges over to the seat in front of her. “fine. you have a point. take that seat.”

the smile that jisung fakes is convincing enough to satisfy his reaction, and occupies the seat next to him. he knows he’s about to engage himself in some absolutely boring talk with the slutty woman, and judging from her standoffish mood, he has a feeling he won’t enjoy this so much. however, his time’s ticking, and it’s only so long before that pendant is finally on his hands. he decides to just go with the flow, and finally exit when it’s done. “so?” jisung begins, folding his arms on the metal table. “you wanna talk about this bad date?”

the woman smacks her cherry-colored lips in exaggeration, and lets out a small breath before looking at him. “we were supposed to meet up at this restaurant hours ago, but he never came. he messaged me saying that he had some business to deal with, and honestly, it’s all he ever says nowadays. like, what does he think this relationship is? i’m not here to wait around and hope he comes back!”

jisung pretends to be interested in the conversation, but his mind is thinking about other things. a cheesecake would be so good right now. “hm, he seems like a douche.”

“he’s an asshole, that’s what he is!” the woman exclaims, swatting the skewered olives back on the drink. she fumes for a while, but the more she acknowledges jisung, her face softens by a tint. “thanks for keep up with my bullcrap tonight. i really needed company.”

jisung only hums in response, sending the woman a distant smile before he lets her continue. “i just need to feel free right now, you know? it’s like, i wanna just--just get risky with some man and feel no remorse for it. i mean, fuck that guy, am i right? who care if he sees me with another man. one night stands are better than him.”

the assassin breaks his baggage of thoughts and piques his interest at her. he could almost taste victory on his hands, a familiar grasp of something that could be won in the snap of a finger. this could be his gateway to the jewel adorned on her neck, and he’s relieved that she’s making things easier for him. he smiles at her then, one that’s less softer and more suggestive. “that’s why you came to this night club, right?”

then, he tilts his head, and smooths his fingers into her arm, stroking the skin gently, as if to channel comfort. it’s subtle, but he knows it would make her swoon. “then what’s stopping you from getting risky? this is the perfect place for one night stands, sweetheart.”

surely enough, the woman opens her mouth to say something in return, but she finds herself staring at jisung instead, only fully taking him in at the moment. his eyes are soft, but glinting at something she hopes it’s what she’s thinking of, and the rubs of his fingers against her arm are every bit comforting. his touches are like milk and honey trickling on her skin, and his lips seem sweeter on her vision, glossy, enticing. “this...”

jisung tries not to smirk at how he’s managed to get her under his spell that quick, and continues to run his fingers through her shoulder. “what?”

there’s a sudden want that bubbles on the core of her stomach at each stroke he places on her, and her hands ball into fists above her thighs, trying her best not to show how much she wanted jisung right there and then. however, he heart says otherwise, and she end up blurting the words she so badly wanted to say. “you--can, can i kiss you?”

bingo.

the strokes on her arm stop, and jisung plasters a frown at her question, or rather, her command. “oh, sweetheart, do you think i’m the perfect guy to be doing this with?”

“as i said,” the woman gulps down and inches closer to him, suddenly feeling daring, feeling needy. “i’m looking for anybody at the moment, and i don’t care who i end up with. besides, you’re pretty hot. i wouldn’t mind fucking a hot man like you.”

the man hums in consideration and slides his hand down to the curve of her waist, pulling her in even more. he could basically feel the hunger and pure want radiating from her body, and the shudder he feels under his fingers is enough for him to know that she could barely contain herself before she pounces on him. so, he gazes at the woman in the same crazed manner, and grips her waist, voice lowered to something darker. “then by all means, let me be your guest.”

it’s only seconds before the woman crashes her lips with his, the musk of their perfumes wafting in the air as she eagerly climbs onto his lap to deepen the kiss. his lips are delicious just as she imagined, and his movements are fluid and filled with years of experience, swiping skin to skin, releasing to locking. jisung internally finds this disgusting however, but keeps on urging the kiss in deeper, teasing the seams of her mouth with his tongue before she gives it an entrance. he’s appalled by the sudden straddle of her hips against his thigh, and the friction only makes him half-hard.

he makes sure to busy himself with his lips passionately colliding against hers, and his hips bucking to give her the pleasure she wants, to make her hotter and hungrier than she was before. as the woman speeds up with her straddles, he smooths his palm up to the back of her nape, where he skillfully unclasps the pendant and tucks it neatly inside his pocket. he smiles onto the hot exchange of kisses at his acquired item, and continues to kiss her for as long as she desires.

unfazed by what he had just done, the woman pulls away from the sloppy kiss and tries to undo his buttons, fingers fumbling to release an ounce of skin from his button-up. however, jisung snatches her wrist, and eyes her dangerously, his voice hoarse and deeper than usual. “i think we should be in a more private space if you want to do that to me, sweetheart.”

the wild smile that spreads on her lips meant her well, and jisung chuckles at such a sight before he leans up to kiss her once on the lips, the touch lingering. “say, why don’t you be a good girl for me and,” another kiss, this time on the corner of her mouth, “make yourself comfortable for me in the room right over there?”

he peeks up to catch her reaction, and sees her eyes closed shut, trying to feel every bit of his kisses warming her skin. satisfied, he continues, at peppers his mouth to her cheek, trailing all the way to her earlobe. “then, i want you to cover yourself up for me, yeah?” he slides a silk sash on her hands, and he doesn’t even need to say anything in order for her to what she would do with it. he runs his palms up and down her waist as he could see the bubbling excitement and arousal building upon her while she feels the silk on her hands, and speaks up through the droning sounds of the club. “i want you to be ready for me, so you’re gonna have to wait for a while.”

to tease her for the hell of it, he grumbles into her earlobe, and pulls her hips close to him yet again, only harsher and more dominating. “you think you can do that for daddy?” he licks her earlobe, and smiles wickedly when she shudders above him. he always loves it when he know that he could only ruin her.

“y-yes, daddy.” the woman breathes out, hands desperately holding onto his shoulders. she’s driven wild when jisung responds with a moan sounding on her ear, and she suppresses a moan herself when she could feel the straps of her dress sliding off teasingly, courtesy of jisung’s touches. “mmm, i love it when you call me that.” finally, he pats her ass, and gestures her to the empty room two blocks away from their spot. “go on, doll yourself for daddy, and remember, no peeking.”

he expects her to protest at some point, but he isn’t disappointed when she follows his command instead, gathering her belongings and scurrying her way towards the unoccupied room. jisung stays seated for a bit, stretching his neck from the position he’s been in for quite some time, before he finally stands. he doesn’t even bother to go after her, all his words masked with lies, and approaches the male stripper instead, cashing him with a generous amount of money. “give her the best night she’s ever had. she deserves it.”

“yes, mister han.” the stripper bows automatically, and jisung nods back in response before finally dismissing himself. he makes his way to changbin, who’s been seated there all this time, and flashes the pendant at his face, smiling proudly. “see? i told you i could do it.”

changbin could only stare at him with a deadpan expression, and states bluntly, “oh my, i was so turned on, i think my cock is hard.”

the younger just rolled his eyes at his hyung’s sarcasm, and pockets the pendant. “come on, let’s just give chan the pendant.” he and changbin finally make their leave after that, and jisung doesn’t even think once of the woman all dolled up under his spell. after all, it’s what he’s known for in this crowd of sinners. everybody has a strive to lust for life, but he could only trade life for lust. it’s all he’s ever done since the day he turned 13, and not once did he regret any bit of it.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #han jisung #han jisung smut #honbinnies writes #happy valentines day ig #this is derived from a roleplay my irl and i did sooo #forgive me if my style of writing seems a little off #it was difficult to translate script-style format to paragraphs siz #but basically this is how things went down in that hot mess of an rp

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steponmepinkjun · 3 years

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I NEVER FINISHED MY STORY OMG. ok so i left off at being too proud to tell my friend she was right and kpop fucked hard. the difference between u and me is that i’m too good of a liar. too good. i kept up the “i hate kpop it’s cringe” facade for ALMOST TWO WHOLE YEARS, I SHIT YOU NOT. why? bc my dumb ass, extra ass, dramatic ass self thought “ok if i’m gonna have to deal with the embarrassment of admitting i’m wrong, i better do it in such an extra ass way it’ll knock ur socks off so hard that YOULL be the one embarrassed not me.” the original plan was to learn the entire choreography to bts dope, bc it’s the song that she told me to listen to and inevitably the song that got me into them, but later switched to bts fire bc i saw too many of those “choreo matches w any song” videos, and then her birthday party came up. and here’s the real kicker. her birthday is April Motherfuckin Fools. so it would be So Perfect for me to reveal my kpopism as a birthday present And a april fools prank in one. so i was Set on the Reveal being on april 1st, but the day rolls around and god that choreo is so fucking hard and i am Not a dancer. never have been. so i abandon that and go ykno what… i’ll do it Next Year. BC MY BITCHASS WAS LIKE NO THE MOMENT IS TOO PERFECT TO DO IT ON A NORMAL ASS DAY ITS GONNA BE ON APRIL FOOLS ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY OR NOT AT ALL. a year rolls by, i’ve told most of our friends except her and they’re all in on it, i’d made so many subtle kpop references to her without her realising they were fully intentional and had too many scares where she almost figured me out but i lied my way out of it, and i’d given up on showing off with choreography bc i couldn’t make that shit look good. i’m not a dancer. i am, however, a rapper, and a damn good one, so i inhaled the agust d mixtape and decided i’d just rap the eminem of kpop’s anthem at her face. in korean. and change the lyrics at the end (if u haven’t listened to agust d, the bridge repeats “i’m sorry” a lot) to “i’m sorry i kept this from u for so long” and “i’m sorry i actually ult got7 not bts” (this was like the april after skz debuted ok i was holding onto got7 for dear life knowing full well skz we’re going to convert me smh) and the best part? she never saw it coming. her official present was a cd with a bunch of kpop on it but she thought it was just a personalised mixtape for her so i told her to play the first song out loud and she knew the song Instantly. it has a long intro so she was like “i guess u did listen when i recommended u this song!! i knew you’d like it since u like rap so much!!” and then i started rapping and i shit u not. she started SCREAMING. like the initial reaction was her jaw dropping and then instinctively covering her mouth but when i kept going and she realised i wasn’t fucking around she just fucking screamed like a banshee. at the end during the sorry bit i threw off my jacket to reveal a got7 shirt on the inside and she fell off her chair and started rolling around on the floor. needless to say it was every bit as satisfying as i thought it’d be LMAOOOO afterwards her ass was like “I CANT BELIEVE U HID THIS FROM ME FOR OVER A YEAR” and when i tried to explain my ego couldn’t take the “i told u so” she was like “you know i wouldn’t have made fun of you for it right? i would just be glad you’re not hating on my boys anymore” so basically i’m a big dramatic fool and she was always too good for me.

don’t mind the weird spaces here my ipad is being all fucky wucky w me rn. damn sad to hear ur sideblog experience didn’t go so well, i’d have shown u the cool side of the fandom if i knew 😤😤 leading u thru the cursed halls of kpop stan tumblr like a sketchy tour guide that’s actually 3 small raccoons stacked on top of each other like a trench coat, like “over here we have the fanfic writers that honestly need to publish a book, over here we have the gif makers that are responsible for my entire camera roll, if we take a quick swerve past the death threat anons and the twt fanwar screenshots - mind ur feet bub the 14 year olds were tryna make a grab for ur ankles - ah here’s the holy grail of shitposts, you might be here for hours, to the right we have the weird aussie side of the fandom that projects our childhoods onto chanlix but also all the members as we decide what their life in australia would’ve been like, and down there is a secret trapdoor to the blogs w endless random headcanons that will make you laugh, cry or blush depending on if the author woke up and decided to choose violence today. enjoy your Stay!” but then again i’m not so active on tumblr anymore (ngl you’ve become the highlight of my tumblr experience these days, interaction wise,) so maybe all my Local Hotspots are inactive now. i know a bunch of them are, it’s sad. “i don’t fw stan twitter for the same reason i don’t hang out in meth dens” oop. guess i’m a meth addict. no but i get u i rly do, it’s a hellhole out there, but the fact that things get shared and spread a lot easier than on tumblr and how short most things have to be (therefor keeping up w my adhd attention span without having to resort to the mental torture that is tiktok, with the added bonus of not always needing headphones.) that i just. couldn’t leave if i tried. maybe i should try being active on tumblr again but it’s a dying site in comparison.

“their music doesn’t consistently hit for me as much as skz” i’m sorry we can’t be friends anymore. what. what. you don’t dramama ramama ramama hey? you don’t feel a little jealousyyyyyy, naega anin? you don’t shoot out, shoot out, shoot out, or aremdaeun love killa love killa? you can’t be your hero du du du du du du du du du dududu? u disappoint me. literally like everyone i know who likes skz music likes mx music like it’s a rite of Passage. they’re kindred spirits, monsta x music is like skz’s music’s cool but mildly heterosexual older brother. neither of them know what a bad song is it runs in the family. and both their music runs in my VEINS. whenever i describe my music taste they’re always the first two that come to mind, skz being my number 1 bc they are my best boys but mx bc of the Flavour. pls listen to the entire the code album then get back to me 😤🙌 ok but fr ur so right they are 7 of the finest men i ever seen (yes i say 7 bc i’m including wonho cause he deserved better and i’ll die on my ot7 bullshit.) like don’t get me started on them either LOL i LITERALLY downloaded that one insta video of changkyun working out his back n arm muscles w his tattoo showing bc i needed that shit saved for Science. they could do Anything w me like frfr. yes vixx is the bdsm contract group i’m telling ya they wildin. or at least they were. it’s been years since their last comeback idk what they’re doing anymore tbh. and yeah that makes sense, savouring the hyperfixation i feel it, but also i’m so attached to skz that i never let it die. like i hyperfixate on other things and other groups but i will Always go back to skz cause they’re my homeboys. hell, they’re my home. being a predebut stay i’ve spent more time w skz than most of my actual family members at this point. but that’s just me you do u boo xx just know that if ur anything like me ur never letting go once skz it’s been my longest lasting fixation cause they hit like Nothing Else Do. ik i’ve already said that but i cannot stress it enough. they’re really special. i’m gonna stop here before i get all sappy and emotional bc i really love those boys so fucking much and i don’t drop the L bomb often. SIDE NOTE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE UR LIST OF GROUPS RANKED BY THORSt. i need to judge ur Taste. and omg cat&dog is such a guilty pleasure song bc the lyrics make me cringe so much bc while pet play can be fun they be doing it in more of an “i’m an innocent soft dogboy uwu” kinda way that just Does Not Sit Right with me. it comes back to the objectifying of asians that asians themselves don’t help in industries like these and maybe i’m looking too far into it when rly it is just wholesome n cute or maybe they are into some pet play shit idk idc i will bop to the song regardless but i will not acknowledge the lyrics nope.

YOURE RIGHT THO SKZ’S OPENNESS IS IN FACT, A BIG DEAL, i’ll grab them for u if u want but i found these twt threads of skz supporting the lgbt community and i just felt a special kind of happiness man like sure the delusional part of me likes going “haha they’re gay” bc my brain likes to imagine them as my polycule of mlm boyfriends bc sometimes thats what gives me the serotonin to get me thru the day ok don’t judge but also bc it’s nice knowing that yes i’ll never know them personally, but at least i can support them knowing they’d respect my gender identity and my pronouns, they’d respect who i choose to love, and that’s already more than the general public can say so shit, it is special! it’s special that they don’t treat being cishet like the norm - they constantly remove gender from their songs and speech entirely, they don’t assume all stays are female anymore, we don’t talk abt the babygirls incident cause we got babystays in the end outta that ok, and it’s just. so refreshing and important to me bc i can’t get that anywhere else!! like my semi ults are the boyz and while i love them very much and there’s no way all 11 of them are straight i refuse, i do get just a little bit sad whenever they she/her their fandom by default and call them their girlfriends n shit even tho i do still identify as a girl, i’m also genderfluid/nonbinary/transmasc, and i have a very love/hate relationship w my womanhood and rarely use she/her pronouns, cause it’s like, do you not see me? see us? the ones who aren’t cishet women? i mean i know kevin does bc he congratulated a fan who came out as nb but it’s just not the same as the openness we get w skz. like how do i trust cishets i could be supporting them as a queer person when in reality they’d call me a slur. what would i know, behind the screen? so it’s so good that skz go the extra mile to make it a safe space for everyone. this is already long enough i will reply to the second half of that ask in another message… tomorrow cause it’s 1am and i’m tired gn -felix bi anon

I'mma have to start putting these under a readmore so that i don't absolutely make everything who is still following me for some reason go totally fucking insane 😂

NDJDHWJJAHFNAKBSJSBFBHHDBDNAJD YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE FACES I WAS MAKING READING THIS, I WAS FUCKING CACKLING AND GASPING EVERY OTHER SENTENCE SO HARD THAT I SCARED THE CATS NDJWHSHSB the fact that you went "oh you want me to get into kpop? Give me a hot minute, and I'll give you a whole ass private concert for free" biduehsjdbd biiiiiiiiiiitch you're a fucking ICON, I stg I could NEVER 😂 (and not just because I couldn't find a tune if you gave me a printed set of Google maps directions and that I embody the steriotype that white people can't dance, like my sister kept sensing me tiktoks of the whole "dance like a white girl" trend going lmfao look it's you and eventually I was like "sis please this trend has me feeling like being white is a disability and these mothafuckers are being ableist 😭 also I could NEVER be that on beat so yall ain't even doin it right 😭😭😭😭"). Tbh if I told one of my friends (lol what friends, i got jokes) to get into Skz and they showed up at my bday and performed the entirety of I Got It I would simply shower them in money and go "aight everyone else go home, you are no longer needed, you are being laid off, your position has been eliminated, we're downsizing, the company is moving up and you're moving out, you are not qualified for this role any longer, best of luck with future endeavors" 😊

I think part of the reason I can't deal w Twitter is the exact reason I refuse to leave tumblr, in that I've been on tumblr since 2006 and twt since 2008, and tumblr literally has not changed at all, not even a little, whereas going from the early days of twt where there were no corporate sponsorships or ads and you had to manually copy and paste someone's tweet and @ them to retweet it, to how it is now, like 90% ads and showing me shit from the timelines of people I don't even fuckin follow n whatnot, it's just not enjoyable. Idk how anyone finds anything on twt, it confuses and frustrates me because I am old and have not adapted well to technology changing 😂 But arguably, the skz fanbase doesn't want me on skztwt anyways so like it works for both of us lmfaooo. I am old and cringey, and also still think of twt as stream of consciousness whereas tumblr is your teenage bedroom where you can decorate the walls with anything that interests you. I do really love the nonsensical kpoptwt shitposts tho fhshsbdjjss like it is a very specific flavor of mental instability that I enjoy immensely 😂 OH and also I initially misread part of that and thought you were saying you actually irl do meth and I was like 😳 WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT. HOW DO I HANDLE THIS. Like how do I express like "I wasn't being judgy of people who use substances cause I've been there but I was just being insensitive 😳" And then went back and reread it and was like WHEW, IM JUST AN ILLITERATE FOOL 😂😂😂😂 ejeywhdhrhjwbfbdjshdhdhd I spent like an hour bwign like "IS THE REASON WE GET ALONG BECAUSE THEY'RE ON METH???? WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS INFORMATION??????" hrhehshe I am literally a fuckin idiot it's fine

It's not that I don't fw them, it's more like... Okay so like there is no situation in which I am going to skip a skz song if it comes on shuffle. You will not ever catch me NOT in the mood to listen to Sunshine, if God's Menu comes on we are THROWIN the meager amount of booty meat I got hither and thither, I could be in the happiest mood of my life but if Ex comes on I will stop to SOB. And I'm not like that with most music, so mx just falls into the category of "there is a time and place." Idk why but it just doesn't forcibly grab hold of my heart and ass the way skz always does. I really don't WANT my skz fixation to ever end, but I know that eventually it'll stop giving me dopamine bevause my brain is my worst fucking enemy 🙃 like my arcana fixation is to date the longest running hyperfixation I've ever had, going on almost three years, and I used to not be able to spend every single second of every day thinking about Asra, but now... I just feel nothing when I look at arcana stuff. As you can probz tell by the fact that I hardly post arcana anymore 😂 So I know that eventually all my happiness will end, it always does, I can never stay just as obsessed with something as I was for long. I CANT SHARE THE LIST BECAUSE I DONT *HAVE* TASTE YET 😭 I'm basically just compiling a list of any group someone tells me I should look into, ranked by how strong the kitty purred upon googling pics of them 😂 My mom read my ass to FILTH over txt lmfao she was like "they're not that adorable. Maybe your standard for adorableness has gone down with You Know Who still on hiatus 🤔" bfjwhdhd like MOMMAAAAA THE LIBRARY IS CLOSED 😂 she attacks me any time I even hint at stanning other groups, she is a skz purist and stans skz only, unofficial Momma Stay of All Stays keeping me in check lmfao.

I feel like skz really do follow thru on their promise that they're a safe space for stays, it's nice to see that they hold space for anyone and everyone in their fanbase and do it in a really simple and elegant way, I feel. Like they never make it seem like "okay here are the fans and here are the token weirdos that were only recognizing to make a buck off of them" the way a lot of artists make it feel like 😑 like they don't go out of their way to act like it's some revolutionary act to do the bare minimum of not shitting on certain parts of the fandom, if that makes sense. They feel very "yeah, of course we love all our stays, this is a welcoming space for literally anyone, that's how it should be, that should be normal," instead of like "Hi fans we love you 😊 and special shoutout to you ell gee bee tee folk, make sure to buy my rainbow merch after the show!!!" you know? Like, they're the friends who would never make you feel weird or different for some shit, the friends that take the attention off you if something they know ur sensitive about comes up, instead of weirdly snapping at whoever brought the unfomfy thing up which ruins the mood and makes you feel tiwce as bad, yk? They just give off this vibe that they, and the space they create with their music, is just a genuine and chill place to be and hang out and relax and bond. I feel like they'd be the friend group that is so goofy and sweet and silly and accepting and lovely and always makes you feel loved and excited to be alive 🥺 They are all good noodles 🥺🥺🥺

#felix-bi-anon #asksteppie

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