#I guess I should be grateful I don't watch a lot of a certain kind of anime because a few studios have a very similar problem.

[amplexadversary]

Ahh, tv shows where I can't tell apart the male leads, my beloathed.

Seriously either we need to go back to lighting our sets more, or long hair on men needs to come back into vogue, because I can't keep living like this.

I can't keep taking two seconds to try to determine who is who every shot because I miss what's going on in the scene!

Controversial opinion, but you need to follow the silhouette rule in live-action projects too, at least in regard to characters in the same show or movie! If you absolutely *can't* hire actors with different heights, hair, or builds, you need to work something out with the costuming department to get a distinct shape!

[iamjellyfish]

-`,✎The Idol Soldier-`,✎

❥ Author note: Hello:) this is my first fic! I suck at naming fics so it will be straight to the point! I should work on pin post first but my Soshiro brainrot needs to be fed! Thanks whoever got the idea of the reader being an idol TvT Ily!

❥ Summary: You're the famous and beloved idol of Japan! Jelly is your idol's name and a certain vice-captain is obsessed with you! Little did he know, that you joined the JAKDC for an appreciation song idea. He didn't realize it was you even though you only wear glasses!

❥Part: 1 you're already here:) ❥ Warning: English is not my first language, rejection, angst-make up, you fall first - he falls harder, simp Soshiro, oh yea very long ahh yapping from me:3... OOC?

Everyone is grateful for what JAKDC has done for society, and because of that, your producer thinks it might be good to make an appreciation song for them. You of course don't mind, but idol-fighting kaiju is something very fictional, to be honest. Of course, you panic about the examination test, what if you fail so misery?! The media would have a good laugh about you!

So you study hard for the writing test and have to pick up extra martial arts practice class because you're not sure if your current strength can get you in. It's not so bad for the most part, your normal idol practice makes this easier a bit, you kind of understand since it was famous that idol practice would be very hard and strict.

The day came, and you looked around to see how others doing, you could recognize the son of the famous Izumo Tech company, the famous Kikoru Shinomiya, and others who all seemed to have a lot of experience in this field, it made you a bit left out and odd out? At least better than standing out by being an idol. You disguise yourself with glasses because you were too panicked about the exam after you researched its rates to get in, lose sleep, and haven't had the time to prepare a better disguise to work with. So with glasses and a simple hair-down style, you somehow successfully disguise yourself, you kind of guess it's the Superman effect that you saw on the internet. But when you see Kafka chasing Kikoru in the field you wonder if your fans recognized you, would they do the same? You managed to get 21% on the suit though, your lucky number! Jelly had got into JAKDC!

❥Hoshina Soshiro's side!

Oh how much he loves his Jelly! The life of fighting kaiju is pretty stressful and when that happens, he finds himself listening to your songs. Jelly always encourages people to chase their dreams, to love, and to keep going, that's what makes him a Jellybean(fan name). He always feels left out because of his using blades and used to feel discouraged fighting kaiju with blades but you somehow always cheer him up! Hoshina Soshiro, the man who stays up at midnight waiting for the moment your concert ticket is available on the website, he will immediately buy it. The man who had one of the biggest Jellybean pages and posts about you in his free time.

Jelly announce she had the merch made a return and will be available to buy on XXX to XXX.

Of course, he would buy more of the merch even if he already had it! Hoshina Soshiro would use half his paycheck just to buy your merch, you know those crazy amounts of merch on a shrine of idol images? His shrine already goes viral once (nobody knows that the shrine is his).

He would also listen to your music a lot when he is doing his paperwork. Sometimes you would catch him humming your music while goes on patrol. He definitely talks about Jelly with Okonogi a lot and totally makes a jellybean club at the JAKDC!

They would roast the hell outta your antifan!

❥ current time: You sometimes hang out with Kafka in the library and since you trade secrets with the old man, he knows you're an idol, and you know he is a kaiju. You would now freely write your song lyrics while he doing his things. Tonight, accidentally watch the vice-captain training at night with Kafka. Oh man, he is so hot, his muscular figure got you good. You had silently got a crush on him for a while now. Reason? His voice is so hot, he has a good figure, and he is so cool. You did laugh at the old man for getting overwhelmed by Hoshina in battle but now if it was you, you would get overwhelmed too. Before the vice-captain recognizes your existence, you already dash back to your room using your dodging and runway from paparazzi skillsets, perks being an idol? Probably not. You could feel Kafka's annoyance for leaving him there with the vice-caption.

So after a while, you got along with everyone, especially Kafka's group. And you are encouraged by them to confess your love for the vice-captain. Even though you're unsure, your time at the defense force is running out and you can't keep hiding your feelings and probably never meet him again, you already have to leave on Monday so you have to shoot your shot quick. So you ask him to meet you on the rooftop at the end of the day...

"Um... Vice-captain..."

You spoke, anxiety filled your chest as you turned around and looked him in the eyes. Your heart felt heavy and you were so afraid of rejection, but even if you get rejected, you can't complain you were only here a few months and your idol life is unstable for love life since scandals about idols having lovers happened all the time. So in the warm radiation of sunset, you decided to confess with all your heart.

"Yes? Why did you call me here?" Hoshina said he looked a bit concerned since you sounded so afraid and ill too at the same time. He seems to kind of guess that you would confess since you kind of make it obvious by getting him gifts, letters, and sweets. You were a sweet one and he didn't want you to get hurt so he had to calculate how to reject you without making it sting, he had feelings for you too but the kaiju fighting life is no guarantee that he can make it or survive, he might even hurt your sweetheart even more if he doesn't reject.

"Vice-captain Hoshina, I really really like you!" You said with your heart out and your face basically blushes like tomatoes. You breathe slowly, ready for the worst, you keep telling yourself that you are ready for this. With the hope that at least the fall would be light, you waited for the results. Hoshina just sighed a little and then said in a usual upbeat voice.

"Sorry, but my heart belongs to Jelly! I'm a loyal Jellybean so I can't return your feelings." He smiled and you could see his little fangs out, before you could react, patted your shoulder while leaving and you could hear him say from afar "Keep up the good work though!". And you're kinda just standing there, surprised 'cause you don't really think that he likes you Jelly. That day, you were crying to Okonogi about it. "Shhh...Shhh y/n, you will find someone too! Hoshina is too obsessed with Jelly, don't worry there will be someone else better than Hoshina!" She said trying to calm you down, and you cried so hard that the glasses were all blurry and wet so you took off your glasses, wiped them, and tried your best to smile brightly at her after really thinking through it, since it was fine after all, at least you got a cool person as your fan. "Thank you a lot Okonagi-san! I really need it!" You got kind of confused when she kept staring at you with a calculating look. "You're Jelly right y/n?" "Eh-... Yea.." You ended up having to tell her about the whole song thing. "I'm already done writing the whole album so I will probably quit on Monday. Please keep a secret though!" You plead, since if the tea got spilled, you would definitely get yelled at by the producer. You kind of trying to manipulate her by using her sparkly idol eyes in the hope that she would keep it a secret, was it an ass move? Yes, but you're desperate.

"I'm not sure though... this secret is a bit too much..!" Okonogi said, waving her arms to signal she is very unsure of this. You sigh and then pop right back up saying. "It's fine! At least keep it 'till Monday alright?" You hand her a Jelly with a chat bubble "Thank you" keychain then leave before she can reject.

Glad that your producer handled the resignation process from the JAKDC because you had no strength left to look at the captain and vice-captain the last time. You packed your stuff and are ready to leave as your friends, especially Kafka all tearing eyes about you leaving. You were waiting for the company's car to come to pick you up so you didn't even bother to disguise yourself but Vice-captain Hoshina approached you. With hands in the pocket, he kind of tries to pick up the conversation but the awareness fills the air. "So, y/n or Jelly. Okonogi told me about you..." He said as she held out his phone with Okonogi's messages, her nickname was "The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝". Not gonna lie, you almost laugh out loud at the nickname.

The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝: You might wanna know this.

The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝ has sent two attachments.

It's a picture of you in your idol outfit and your disguised self with red circles pointing at the similarity.

The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝: If that isn't enough proof... The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝ has sent two attachments.

It's a document of the similarity between you and your idol self, "She even has receipts on me, that's scary." you think to yourself as you look at the last messages.

The Nerd Jellybean 🤓☝: You still might have a chance though. Try to catch up.

"Hm... well at least still kept her secret."

You said, you certainly didn't expect that but you guess it was fine. Though, seeing the person you secretly admire standing before you... You of course very happy. But a part of you thinks if he comes here for the confession, does he really love you as you or because you're Jelly?

This is definitely not the first time you encounter something like this... People only love you because you're an idol or Jelly. You don't think he is that type of person but who knows? "Y/n, please stay in contact. I will be honest with you since we might never get to talk like this again because you're an idol and stuff but meh... I think you're very sweet, even as Jelly, you take my hand and pull me out of the shadow." He said, with stars in his eyes. No, it was you that was in his eyes, his star, his idol, his Jelly. He held your hands, his hold was tight, not that it hurt but it definitely surprised you. You could hear him rambling on and on about how you had saved him somehow. You feel very happy, you know you have cheered people on with your songs but hearing it from your fan, from him makes your heart beat faster. "But my life-fighting kaiju is not stable, I could die anytime and I don't want you to suffer because of it. So even if I don't want to, I still have to let you go." He said, you could see sadness in his eyes. Oh how you hate it, no, no... It can't end like this. You won't allow it. The next thing the vice-captain knows is that his dream of kissing has come true. You basically jump on him and put your soft lips on him, it was warmth and he thought this was a dream. "I changed my mind, I want to stay with you Hoshina! I won't allow you to push me away! I want us to try, to be together!" You said you hugged him tight, and you held your tears. He returns the hug and then quickly looks at you with worry on his face while he has a hand on the back of his neck and says.

"But you already submit your resignation paper. How can you stay?" You smirk at him with a devilish expression, as a jellybean, he knows that this means Jelly will pull something that could put everyone in trouble. You take out your phone and text your producer to help you stay and somehow make that resignation paper invalid. You kind of expect she would be annoyed and get mad at you but didn't think she would send you a very long ahhh email yelling at you.

"And, now Hoshina is my boyfriend and I can stay." You declare, as you hold his hand and move it on your cheek. You know this is a very bold decision, but in the end, you still had an idol career, and fighting kaiju while being an idol is like a weird combination but you wanted to try. Try and balance both out, because you found someone you love. Right now, staying with Hoshina makes you feel something you have never felt before, and you will let the present open itself for you to see what is inside.

"I already got things under control, so let's go on a date!" You said with excitement eyes full of stars and smiling at him with warmth, Hoshina opened his eyes to take on all that radiating sunshine deep in his memory and laughed, he never thought he'd see this side of Jelly, he knew from those shows and series that you're a ball of sunshine who would cause some kind of trouble that makes everyone laugh. But now? You're much more and he wanted to learn more. You laugh with him, that is what he remembers clearly to this day.

To be continued...

A/N: omg, I hope my write fic isn't a disaster:) I will learn to improve my writing the next time:D

[hedgypeng]

I feel like such a fool you know. Seeing things that obviously weren't there. Letting others make me believe something was there. (Of course something like this wouldn't happen for me... I was really kidding myself)

But I'm most definetely not sure. Practically certain I was wrong. As suspected. But it's okay. If a story seems too good to be true, it most likely is, right? I am grateful for what is there, just sad it isn't what I hoped it could be.

And hey, maybe I am wrong. Only the future shall bring us that wisdom. But for now, it just is what it is.

Every time my phone chirps, I wonder if it's you. I can feel my heart beating faster. Dissapointment when it's not you. Our messages might not have been a big deal. Not much was said really. But to me they meant a lot. Knowing you took time to talk to me. And I know that that is super silly. But if you knew I've always felt 'not worthy', you'd understand.

I'm just so confused as well really? It feels like you're ignoring me. Or responding the bare minimum. It feels as if I'm bothering you. But, I thought you'd be the kind of person to communicate such things. But you haven't yet. And whenever I post a story, I do see you watch them? Does one watch stories of people they are annoyed by? I ask how you're doing and when I say I'm there for you, I get a '👍🏼'. Is it because you don't want that? Or do you not believe that?

I wonder what it's going to be like when I'll see you again. Which is quite soon again. Will it be like before? Or is my gut feeling right and you're actually bored/annoyed with me? Either way, I'm both excited and nervous.

I wonder if I should have told you... if I should have taken other steps. But I don't know you well enough to be able to guess how you would react, or how I should interpret your reaction.

I did have learned a lot, thanks to all this. I stepped out of my comfort zone quite a lot. I've gained some confidence. And maybe, just maybe, I am not that bad after all.

But I can feel my head overthink again. About anything and everything and everyone. I don't want it to be bad again. I do not want to spiral back down. I'm trying my best. I am surrounded by great people. Online and offline. I am standing up for myself more. And well, I might even honestly answer when someone asks me how I'm doing. I will try to not negatively selftalk. And not make myself a matter to joke about.

I suppose we'll see...

~

[free-angelz]

not to be rude to me but the crazy is soo confirmed!

Last night while watching the ultimatum, I cried because I love Xander and Yoly's love, I love their relationship and their dynamics and I truly hope they choose each other in the end because they deserve each other. It's an easy, calm, supportive, and action oriented love that I think everyone could benefit from. It's something I want to do. And of course, I'm not exactly getting it from the physical relationship that I have with A. And I said something to myself that was typical in my idealistic, scared to love another man moments. I said "I don't want to give my heart to someone who doesn't give a f-ck about me". And then it clicked. I dont give a f-ck about him either. I'm over here applying all these things onto him, my fears, my faults, and even blame to a certain extent, yet I am quite literally doing the same thing back to him. I am giving back the same energy, even if I do yearn for more from this situation.

We don't speak. We don't talk. We don't check in, or say hello. We don't really have any true substance, outside of a late night passion that ignites me from within. We have nothing but a physical connection. We haven't exactly gotten to know each other yet either. I don't even know his favorite color. So why am I attributing all this fucking pressure onto myself, to him unknowingly, it makes ZERO sense to me! It literally is crazy to be crying and feeling so down about him supposedly not caring, when we are literally showing each other the exact same energy, and if we want it to change, if I want it to change. I will have to speak up eventually, or this will fizzle out. I mean he most likely knows what this is, right? That we're just having sex, we're connecting physically, and I'm sure we will keep doing it from time to time. But I can't just expect him to open up to me, if I can't lead the way in some aspects. I think I'm just frustrated because I'm left to think about all these open ended things, possibilities, chances and dreams. It's a lot when you don't know where the other person stands. But it's also like, if I ask, I don't want him to run away. But I can't go into it expecting him not to at the same time? But that's just more open ended questions, I guess I want him to take the lead, but if he never does, then I will have to cut off the connection that we share.

Also maybe it's just me being nuts, but is it too early to ask what we are doing? Like oh my god I swear heterosexuality comes with all these stupid rules and cycles and unhealthy patterns when it doesn't have to be like that. I literally can and should be allowed to openly communicate with someone I'm sleeping with like hello? Why not? Why is it that within heterosexual dynamics it always feels like it's gotta be this grating, difficult, pry it apart with my fingernails kind of experience. And it really feels like I'm projecting this onto myself too and that's not fair at all. We haven't evolved past sleeping with each other, so it's kinda like why not enjoy this for what it is, instead of making it into something that it's not.

I want love. I deserve romance, I will not settle for less. I am affirming to myself that I deserve and know exactly what I want, and personally, I'm not sure it'll go anywhere, but S seems to be the best prospect! I love our dynamic because it is easy, because we understand each other, because we are good and equal and fair to one another.

Me and A really are just a fling, and I'm idealizing and romanticizing it all because it feels like that's what I'm supposed to do, because he's a boy, and I get reduced down to the girl in the song.

I feel like I'm mad at myself over this in a way, because it is something that I struggle with a lot mentally, and it just doesn't seem to work in the end because I'm so overwhelmed. So it's like why put all this mental energy and thought and self doubt into something that isn't even tangible? I am giving and receiving the same energy that he has given me. He has not shown me anything else, I haven't shown him anything else either, and I do not have to give any more of myself especially if that's not being given back. Do I hope that we do develop more? Sure. I just think that I shouldn't be putting all this pressure on us. Things can develop naturally if they're meant to.

[mr-voorhees-husband]

It’s 🤠 anon again;

Pretty plz some Montana meeting/realizing he was in love with his s/o? Maybe a confession?

I think, even if he wasn’t a yandere, he’d still be hella possessive

hehehe.. HEHEHHE

me: 'updates might be slow guys*

Also me: *updates twice a day basically*

Warning: nothing really, fluff, unrequited-requited feelings (also tssm Montana because i luv him)

Reader: gender neutral, anti-hero

You don't remember when you realized it. Maybe a couple months after Montana unmasked you during a fight. Maybe the first time he asked you to share a drink at his bar and he promised to keep your secret with him. All you knew now, though, was you'd fallen hard for the cowboy. Now, technically, you didn't put villains away, not in the typical sense. That was the spider's job, you just... cleaned the streets from any unnecessary trash that wandered them.

It was late, the city at it's calmest due to the time. That wasn't to say the city was dark, though, it never was, one of the major things you disliked about New York. You'd never see the stars here. Your police radio was buzzing off to the side, and you vaguely recognized them call a simple robbery. It was near you, but Spider-man would take care of it, like always.

"Well what'd ya' know?" Your head turned, lips curving into a small smile at the familiar southern accent. Shocker, or who you knew as Montana, had found his way to you. How he found you, or why he wanted to see you, you didn't know. "Didn't expect the lil' [H/N] to be stuck up here all by their lonesome."

"Then join me, cowboy," you patted the ledge, leaning back and kicking your legs, "it'd be nice to have some company."

"Eh.. I'm sure Ox an' Ricochet can handle that robbery on their own." Montana shrugged, sitting beside you and pulling off his mask, setting it to the side. You decided not to ask about if Ox and Ricochet really could handle that heist, especially considering you could see a familiar red and blue clad pest swinging through the city, but you kept your mouth shut. "So, what're ya' doin' up here?"

"Thinking, I guess." Your fingers tapping against the armor plates of your costume, watching the city through tinted glass of your mask. "You?"

"Saw ya' when we drove by, decided to come have a chat."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, why, ya' got a problem with me wantin' to talk with ya'?" His tone was light hearted, grinning as he jokingly crossed his arms in fake anger. It made you chuckle, shaking your head with a smile.

"Nah, nah. You can, just worried about jolly jameson spreading even more trash about me."

A silence fell over the two of you, the kind that wasn't uncomfortable, yet had a certain air to it. You could tell something was up with Montana, his fingers drumming against his thighs as he stared down at the city with an oddly somber look in his eyes. It was concerning to say the least. Sure, you'd seen him angry, upset, but never sad. "Montana?" Montana turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just uh, thinkin'." He repeated your earlier words, and you gave him a look. With a defeated sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Listen, I like ya', a lot. And it scares me because I know we'd never be able to happen cause yer a hero and I'm a villain-"

"I'd gladly be a villain for you." Bewildered, he turned to you, looking as surprised as you were. "I- I meant that as in a- what I meant- was- I feel the same." You stumbled over your words, grateful your mask was hiding you now burning face.

"Ya' like me. Like.. ya' have feelings for me?"

"Yeah..."

"Huh." Montana turned back to the city, a sort of dumb smile on his lips. "That make us a thing now?"

"I guess so..?" You replied, following his gaze to the police cars driving towards the bank. "You probably should go help Ox and Ricochet now."

"Nah, they'll survive a week in Ryker," he stood up, offering you his hand, "but I don't think I'll survive another day without a kiss."

Despite how dumb and cheesy the line was, you couldn't help but take off your mask and give him what he wanted.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda." 

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

[lesbiancolumbo]

Hi!

I am the Ferris bueller anon and I have more questions for you but also an answer!

So, bc you are always so kind to me, I will tell you why maybe people are a bit intimidated by you, or at least why I feel like that.

You really have a lot of good and strong opinions of films, you know a lot about them and really your passion makes you honour and I love it! I discovered many good movies thank to you and sincerely I am so grateful.

So when it comes to talk about "lesser" movies or something I know you don't really dig it's difficult bc it's like going to h&m with Christian Dior. I know I can like and enjoy my silly 2€ t shirt but I feel a bit ashamed doing this with you. Obv it's all in my head and sincerely it doesn't affect me much and it shouldn't affect you at all. So this is my explanation, if it does make sense. Don't feel bad, it isn't that you are intimidating in a bad manner, it's just I respect you too much to subject you to my silly opinions/movies.

Albeit sometimes movies are just that, entertainment, and they are good all the same.

So! Now my questions😎

1) how can I learn more about movies? Like, theory about it, bc while I watch them I usually prefer to experience them without thinking about them too much a part from obvious things and while the "if I like it it is good" goes well for certain things, I would love to enjoy more the technical aspects of them and more.

2) what do you think about Ozon? I know his last movie will be out soon and albeit I haven't seen anything about it I know you weren't really too happy about it. I have seen Frantz and The double lovers (I hope the title is right) and they fucked me in two different ways (a emotional way and a fucked up one) but I don't really know the difference, from a certain point, from this makes me emotional so it's good and I like it but it really isn't all of that.

3) Which are your favourite directors RN?

4) this is really not a question but I have begun Reflections inside a golden eye and the scene where Liz Taylor whipped her husband... it really lives in my mind rent free, no, I am its sugar daddy and I am paying it for being here. I just want to marry her. And I am not into bdsm at all.

The message is too long and I hope not too much tmi. Thank you for your time and have a wonderful day!

i hear you, and i think you're sweet to say so, plus i respect you for coming back and actually answering the question because most people never do. it's funny because like..... i think i am silly, too, and have "silly" (or i guess....... not serious auteur theory/arthouse) movies i love dearly. i own 21 jump street on dvd. i watch ron howard's the grinch AND all the yugioh movies on a regular basis. i watched the downton abbey movie in a theatre the other month. i have a biiiiiiig poster of in & out 1997 in my room. like you, i contain so many multitudes, but i just don't talk about them as much online for no particular reason. so.... lesbiancolumbos! they're just like you! it's okay to be intimidated (i have people who intimidate me too) but just tell yourself i'm simply a (wo)man and show me your very cool t-shirt.

to be honest, i think a lot of cinephile culture is so stuffy. i would rather be talking about shit like ferris bueller than argue andrew sarris to death.

BUT! to your questions.

i think the book you want to start with is film art: an introduction by david bordwell and kristin thompson. this is like, THE book film school students get their first semester. it's about the aesthetic language of film! go to this google doc and CTRL-F and type in bordwell, and you'll find it in the first section. then type in bazin, and you'll find a couple of links called what is cinema? grab those two. andre bazin......... sigh, so like, i am not a huge bazin fan BUT he is one of the most notable and influential film theorists and i DID get something out of his work, so you should at least take a look. the best way to shape your analytical skills, in my opinion, is to read AND watch a lot. the problem i have with a lot of film students when i was in school a million years ago was that everyone was reading this theory but never actually watching anything, so of course the theory wasn't clicking. i did go to film school but a lot of my taste and approaches to film i consider self-taught because when i graduated school i just. sat and watched turner classic literally all day long, noticed which films and screen presences i liked most, and continued to watch that. finally i picked up on recurring motifs, themes, etc. that doc has a lot of books for you to read and you can always swing by for more recs from me, but it's just like any other skill. you just gotta keep trying to do it until it clicks for you.

ozon..... so i am harsh on him because he's a man and he's made a couple of films i really hated, lmao, but i know most people like him! and i don't fault them for this! i am very aware that this is a "me problem". i just can't not roll my eyes at this man seeing a movie about like, the very specific ways women engage in toxic relationships with other women, and go omg, but what if..... they were men..... like i can't. i will say that i'm happy you had such emotional responses to those films, because that to me means they're worth a second look, and i'm willing to give this man more chances because frantz looks good! and i do still want to see 8 women. so who knows. maybe he will click for me one day... i have famously done 180s on films/filmmakers i used to hate and now love.

i'm not sure if you mean my favorite filmmakers working currently or just in general, so i'll do both. i consider my favorite filmmakers to be elaine may, chantal akerman, agnes varda, john cassavetes, jane campion, lynn shelton, stanley donen, kelly reichardt, billy wilder. aside from kelly and jane, the only two alive filmmakers in this list (sidenote, but i cannot believe it has been two years since lynn died) i think some of the most exciting filmmakers working right now are christian petzold, jeff nichols, asghar farhadi, melanie laurent, barry jenkins, greta gerwig, jennifer kent. i am desperate for another movie from dee rees, kirsten johnson, chinonye chukwu, desiree akhavan, ryan coogler, maren ade, and maria schrader.

putting a pin in your reflections in a golden eye reflection because it is tentatively my pick for summer under the stars on marlon brando's day (there are a couple of to be announced screenings and if they screen the wild one i will switch it 😔) but let's have this discussion after i've watched it in august. :)

have a wonderful day! hope i didn't talk your ear off 💛

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Hello! Probably would be dull to think that “sincerity” in media is the same as in ordinary life. It’s still a bit different because the whole world is watching you. So I’m curious do you think BTS are kind of real but slightly exaggerate their dynamics to be more interesting (like with 95z) or it’s just a perfect work of editors? Or we really see a result of many years of complex work-almost family dynamics and boys really still aren’t tired of e/o? Because if I had to be 24/7 with my siblings or even friends I’d be damned and wouldn’t be able to always be so smiley happy grateful bla bla blah.

Just to be clear, I’m really wondering, no pushing into “k-pop is a lie” and “bts aren’t who they seem to”. It’s just that they’re phenomenal also in their way of promoting and building group image I guess. And it’s about sincerity.

Hi Anon! Oh, we're really getting into a interesting and a bit of a dangerous territory right there. What's the usual discourse? That it's all sunshine and rainbows and everyone loves each other and no one should dare ever say anything else in regards to group dynamics cause otherwise you would be labeled as some hater? I think that's the one. Luckily, I don't care about that :)

I think there has to be some sincerity, to a certain degree, when it comes to the relationship they have with each other. They're not that good actors and to fake it for so many years on camera seems like a lot of work, on top of what they usually have to do. And they also talk about their relationship outside work, so that's an indicative that at least they are friends.

Do I think that sometimes there's a bit of an exaggeration? Maybe? But mostly in terms of promotion and labeling. The 95z are the soulmates one in the group, they call themselves that and editors use it as well. But Yoongi also said he and Jin are soulmates, but you don't see them being promoted like that, but they had that interesting talk during ITS 1 and I loved it. And they're fishing buddies which is cute. With them it's also interesting to see that there's not a lot of interaction on set, if you look at Bangtan Bombs or Memories cause Yoongi is usually in some corner on his phone and Jin is (a lot of the times) playfighting with Jungkook (is that all they do? My guess is not, but we do see a lot of it, as opposed to I don't know, having a conversation).

I think all of them are good friends and great colleagues, but sometimes, they act too polite with each other and that throws me off, especially since this is not some usual dynamic between a group of guy friends. It's not something that I have encountered in real life, nor in other K-Pop groups that I have observed in some of their content. This is one reason why for me In the Soop 2 was incredibly boring. It looked more like some company retreat where the employees were told to have fun, but also to be a bit careful with how they act with each other. They all gathered around at a table to eat and they had to force some conversation, a conversation in which they spoke some words, but nothing of substance. I'm only saying that that's what I could see in footage, doesn't mean it's the same when the cameras are turned off. I'm watching The Hungry and The Hairy on Netflix right now and the difference is huge. They have banter, they contradict each other, they complain, they compliment each other, they talk about their lives, they have a very normal dynamic, even if it's on camera. It's so obvious that Rain and Hong-chul are close friends and I could see that from the first episode (side note, I would love to see Jungkook on a trip with Rain across the country, riding their Harleys. A girl can dream).

To get back to your ask, yeah, anyone would go crazy if they had to be 24/7 with their siblings or friends. I know I get tired after 24h if a friend comes to stay at my place and she's more on the annoying side. I can get sick of her, just as she can get sick of me and we certainly don't like everything about each other and we're not hiding this. When it comes to friendship, it's the kind of dynamic in which, if you are close to someone, you also feel comfortable in showing your self more and you don't have any issues in speaking your mind. With BTS, it seems that as the years have passed, there's more of a curated image where everyone gets along with each other, no arguments happening. They say they got so close, that at this point they don't have any stupid fights like they used to before. Which is true in a way, but let's just say that's also impossible. I would actually dare to say that the fights you have with your friends in your late 20s can be more complicated than dumb shit you had in your early 20s. It only gets more complicated, but don't take my word for it.

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Molly knows about the reader’s relatives and she’s not so sure to put her trust in a girl that had just betrayed her own family

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Hi! i’m so happy that you guys liked this thing! thank you so much for your support and, again, if you want to keep reading this let me know. Same note as ever, english not my mother language, so tell me if something’s is wrong.

Chapter 2: Not your family

The next morning turned out to be quieter than you imagined.

You slowly got out of bed and looked at everything around you noticing how quaint Bill's old room was. The ceiling was lined with grainy wallpaper with stacks of photographs of Quidditch players hanging from the reeds that moved from side to side, simulating the playing field; the right side of the room had a huge hole behind the small stool that tried to hide it, and from that hole a small garden gnome was sleeping peacefully with a small piece of cloth on top of his head. You stood up, walking towards the huge window that gave you a beautiful view of the Weasley's garden that at that moment was covered by a thin layer of drizzle that had fallen during the night.

Molly's fruit trees gleamed under the faint rays of the sun and you saw how a doxy from between the leaves poisoned Mrs. Weasley's apples, causing them to fall from the tree branches in a thick black mass with a foul smell coming out of it. You shook your head, excited to witness a very different way to wake up.

Even though several minutes have passed since you woke up, the house continued to remain in a strange silence that made you think that the family had decided to leave the burrow with the intention of buying more supplies or something like that. You knew that Bill wasn’t at home precisely for his obligations within the Order, so you didn’t worry about looking for him around the room, so you decided that a better option was going down to the dining room and know what was happening.

As you went down the spiral staircase, you cursed in a whisper when you forgot to put on your slippers before leaving the bedroom cause the floor was so cold that you slipped a couple of times. Back in the days, when you were still welcome in your parents' house, you had many servants who did all the things for you - putting on your shoes as soon as you woke up was one of those things - but now that your life had changed so much, you assumed that you would have to adapt and start taking care of your own needs.

Your curious eyes roamed the walls covered in family photos that caused a big warmth in your chest. In each of those photographs, all of Molly's children appeared along with their father, smiling for the camera and sending effusive greetings. A pic was hanging at the fireplace were Molly and Arthur were carrying a small white bundle crying his lungs out. You assumed it was Bill as his parents seemed too young back then and even as a small baby, you could recognize those tantrum features anywhere.

A giggle escaped your lips when you noticed a funny sequence from that same photo in which, even with Bill crying in his mother's arms, his father tried to carry him for a moment to calm him down, however the baby's cries didn’t stop. The baby was so annoyed that he ended throwing up  the milk ration that he must have had before the photo session on his father's neat shirt.

You laughed because you knew that William's impertinence was something he had carried with him for several years now.

"Bill hates those photos." You jumped in your place scared to see Molly standing behind you. Your cheeks turned red “He says that it’s embarassing but i think that’s nonsense. He was an adorable baby”

"he was," you answered, looking anywhere but into Molly's shrewd eyes. "but I guess displaying them in the fireplace isn’t the right thing to do."

“Is it not?

"No, they should be at the front door where everyone can see them”

Molly giggled as you watched the sequence of photos over and over again. A silence settled between you, but surprisingly it was not an awkward silence, but one that was allowing you to create a bond that neither of you expected. Mrs. Weaslsey brought up a rag, wiping it around the corners of the photo from the dust.

"Arthur and I had to save up for months to take those pictures," she mentioned wistfully, "we just had Bill and it seemed like a good idea to welcome him into our family with a gesture like that. Arthur was new in the ministry and wasn't earning too much, but we had that quirk and decided we could afford to skip certain things to pay for the pictures. It cost us ten galleons and it still took us four months to gather them”

“Oh” You didn't know what to say, but you just kept looking at the photograph feeling a bit uncomfortable. You never had those problems at home because your family was insanelly rich thanks to the inheritance in life that your grandfather Tim had left to his son and later to his grandchildren. Even the descendants of your grandfather's servants came to work in your house, reason enough for you and your siblings to grow up with no sense of responsibility other than your own wishes. Molly sighed remembering those times when life seemed to be easier.

"So when Bill asked me to remove it from the fireplace, I refused. He doesn't know how hard it was to raise that money, but I think he has nothing to be ashamed of, he was too adorable!

"I don't doubt it for a second, Mrs. Weasley."

"You can call me Molly," she said, walking back to the kitchen where you continued watching the way the pans moved back and forth preparing breakfast. You were not very good at cooking - in fact, you had never cooked before- however, that didn’t stop you from offering your help. So you took a pan, placed it on the stove, and decided that you would find a way to make a good mountain of strawberry-filled pancakes just like your dear nanny did. Molly observed you carefully. "I think that now that you are living with us it is appropriate to have a more cordial treatment.My son told me a lot about you”

“Just the good things, i hope”

“Kind of” You stopped mixing ingredients to look at her carefully” He told us a bunch of marvelous things about you and how you two met. Actually, what worries me the most is what he didn’t tell us”

And there was the recrimination you were waiting for. You were aware that it had to arrive sooner or later, however, you would have been grateful that it did it when Bill were by your side to give you the opportunity to defend yourself properly. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, knowing that what Molly needed to hear from your own lips was which family you came from. You continued your task with the pancakes, turning out as bad as you expected.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly," he corrected.

"Molly" you smiled slowly "But believe me when I tell you that it was me who asked William not to mention anything about my last name or where I come from. I know that in this case, with the war above our heads, it is necessary to be certain of the people who enter your family and I apologize for that, it's just ... Bill is very important to me” Molly's eyes narrowed “Since we met ... I have found a home in him and well, all that feels when someone is in love. "Mrs. Weasley shook her head, understanding the feeling." I have experienced the rejection before. When people know that Tom Riddle is my family ... they run away in fear, curse my family and even walk away from us, as if sharing a blood bond makes us as evil as he is.

“And it’s not like that?” Molly asked with a hand on her neck. She didn’t want to be like the others and judge you without knowing the full story, just as she had promised Bill the night before that she would, but it was so difficult not to remember the death of his brothers by Voldemort’s hands and to pretend nothing had happened in the past. You sighed because the eggs you cracked on the bowl got mixed with their own shell “ I've heard of the Grants before, they're all Death Eaters, including your siblings!”

“It is difficult to have to choose a side  when you don’t have your own convictions”

"And you have it?"

You looked at Molly in pain. Of course you expected those reactions from Bill's mother, she was within her right to be upset that her oldest son never told her that he was in a relationship with a girl who seemed to have the most fucking powerful and evil wizard in the world as a great-uncle. No, Molly wasn't mad, she was deadly angry, she felt like she was bursting!

Her hands became fists and without knowing how, you found yourself between the wall and Molly's big arms from one second to the other. The pancake batter was forgotten, as was the woman's promise to treat her son's girlfriend in a good way.

"How is it possible ..." Molly questioned in an agitated voice, pressing your arms against the wall, "... that a single deer leaves the nature of its own herd?" How can you ensure that one rotten apple even in a gold container doesn’t rot the others?”Your breath caught at the questions of the woman in front of you. Once again, you were aware that your presence wouldn’t be good news to them, but at least you hoped they understood your motives before judging you “Explain to me, (Y/ N) Grant, when have you seen a pig away from his equals?”

Your words caught in your throat at Molly's fierce question. Bill had talked a lot about the temper of his mother. Even if she could be really grumpy at times, she was in general a very sweet, pleasant and maternal woman with everyone; however, you didn’t fit into that generality because it seemed that the woman was determined to kill you with her own hands.

"If my presence bothers you so much, then you shouldn't have let Bill and I to stay here."

“He's my son! All I want for him is to be happy, and that's why I don't understand what he managed to see in you”

"Maybe the same thing you saw in your husband." Molly's lips twitched in anger, but you didn't stop. You hoped that she would at least understand what your words meant, because that would make it easier for both of you to try at least get along better, even if Molly seemed not to want to do it under any circumstances. How is it that this haughty little girl dared to compare herself with her dear and wonderful husband? "I'm sorry, but I don't think this conversation is going to take us anywhere."

"If someone betrays his own family ..." Molly stopped you before you walked out the front door. The others got down the stairs, seeing the scandal formed in the kitchen “The rest of us can't expect too much, can we?

Your eyes blured.

[slashbitch2]

Extra Complications PT3

Previous Chapter

"Don't bother coming back into work tomorrow."

Her words had been replaying in your mind since the final encounter, bouncing round like a taunting echo. It'd only been a week since you'd stopped working at Alchemex, yet had felt like a lifetime of boredom and fatigue. With no job or persistent villain to chase after, if you could even call Liv a villain anymore, there was no reason to get out of bed in the morning, nothing to stop you from moping around your apartment. The days blended into what felt like one long sick day, disregarding the occasional break to rescue a cat stuck in a tree.

Although, your only sickness was of the mind. Whenever you attempted to get some rest, your thoughts would inevitably drift to Liv; the cold, distanced tone to her voice, the look of betrayal in her eyes, how empty the week had felt without her. By the third night plagued with insomnia, you were starting to accept that your feelings towards her may be more than a simple crush. On the eighth night, you decided you ought to do something about it and began to formulate a plan.

Entering the building like you were still an employee would be almost impossible since anyone who left their job was rarely welcomed back with open arms. It'd also be better to avoid the security and CCTV cameras, which you'd learnt used face recognition technology. And finally, locating a security card would pose a potential problem, as walking round the facility until you happened to stumble across a janitor to steal from was unfortunately no longer a possibility. So, what was the solution to all your problems? Vents.

Which is how you found yourself scouring over blueprints like a cliched protagonist from a bygone age movie, but at least the irony hadn't escaped you, and thankfully laboratories generally required a great deal of ventilation, so you had multiple routes memorised by the time the bus had arrived at Alchemex. You'd spent the entire journey on edge, fearful that any fellow passenger might accost you for looking so suspicious. But apparently an agitated figure buried beneath a pile of blueprints wearing a spider-suit underneath a jumper was normal enough to be ignored.

Nonetheless, stepping onto the concrete ground of the car park was a relief which inspired a tad more optimism. Moreover, leaving the burdening stacks of blueprints behind further alleviated some of your anxiety. It felt like a final confirmation that this was your one and only chance, and you weren't about to mess it up. Even as the building loomed over you casting a shadow of uncertainty, nothing could discourage your determination.

There was the remarkable sense that you didn't belong here, though it was a familiar sensation. One that persuaded you to tug the mask over your head before darting toward the edge of the car park. It was your belief that as long as you stuck to the outskirts of the facility, few would pay you any attention while you were out in the open. Therefore allowing you to manoeuvre into position and take the quickest passage straight to Liv's office. Which is exactly what you did.

The first stretch of the vent system was a straight drop, a narrow plunge that went on for longer than anticipated. Like a slide with no angle of inclination and a lot less fun. You hit the metal base with an ungraceful clang, certain that your legs would've buckled upon impact had it not been for the lack of space to do so. Overall an uncomfortable start. The remainder of the journey was a lot of crawling and muscle cramps, your only incentive being the occasional grate to peer down which reassured you that your destination was drawing nearer. Everything was going to plan.

Until you heard her.

Olivia's voice rung clear as if from a dream. It stood out from the general ruckus, initially leading you to believe you were hallucinating, that it was some kind of audible mirage. Yet you refocused your senses and it didn't go away. She was almost directly below you, separated simply by a thin layer of metal. With renewed ambition, you crawled toward the nearest grate as quickly and quietly as possible, frantically lowering your head to find the perfect angle, all just to catch a glimpse of her.

"What do you mean the program hasn't worked?" Liv pinched the bridge of her nose, her words laced with an an uncharacteristic anger. You'd never known her to be an irritable person, she loved her job and every challenge that came with it. Was she uptight? Sure. Passionate? Undeniably. But never angry.

"I've tried rerunning and rewriting parts of the code. And it just doesn't work!" Some poor employee (Mark, if you remembered correctly) was fighting for his dignity below. You could see he was flushing, wildly flailing his hands around as he tried to justify his mistake.

"You've rewritten part of it?!" She repeated, volume rising in frustration.

"I- I thought I knew how to fix it."

"I told you not to mess with my work." She growled, stepping closer.

"With all due respect," He didn't back down, clearly caught off guard and unsure how to deal with an irritated Liv. "it's actually Y/N's work."

Upon hearing your name, you ducked out of view as if you'd been seen. Although, it was evident that this was not the case, so slowly you edged forward to peer down at them once more.

Liv's face had dropped at the mention of your name. But by the time you'd settled back in place, anger was already seeping into her expression, then was suddenly smoothed into disturbingly sweet smile. "Well, Y/N isn't here anymore. So I suggest you keep your incompetent hands off of things you don't understand."

Judging by her vague wording, you guessed she hadn't told anyone the real reason you'd been fired. A fond appreciation flooded your mind. Despite everything that had happened, she still respected your secret enough to keep it. You begun to consider that maybe Liv cared about you as much as you did her. Why else would she lie on your behalf?

Mark muttered an ashamed. "Ok." Then left to try and atone for his mistake.

Liv stayed where she was for another minute before taking a deep breath, shaking off her annoyance, and setting a determined path. You assumed she was heading for her office and were about to follow, but then paused. Was this really the best time for a reunion? She obviously wasn't in the best mood, and if you had to guess, it was likely due to your betrayal. Was it too soon to reappear in her life? You'd arrived here with the intention to apologise and make amends, however, you had no idea how Liv would react or what would happen after. If there would even be an after. She could attack you on first sight for all you knew.

No. You'd come too far to turn around now. You continued along the vent before you could overthink the decision. It would be foolish to turn around now: the end was in sight, and rapidly growing closer.

Reaching the final grate, you were greeted with the familiar yet new aerial view of Liv's office. It'd remained mainly the same since your departure. She hadn't even bothered to remove your lab coat, which was still carelessly thrown over the chair you'd frequented everyday. And Liv herself hadn't changed much either, disregarding the seemingly permanent anger lines upon her face. She was sitting at her desk, head in hand, mindlessly flipping through a folder. It occurred to you at that moment that she didn't look irritated, rather sad. Another unexpected emotion for her to display.

After a minute, she sighed, tossing the papers to one side and bringing her other hand up to crash forward into. She looked defeated, seeing her this way felt wrong. You honestly preferred the anger because it showed she'd maintained at least some of her usual intensity.

You sighed. It was time to fix this. With unsteady hands you delicately unscrewed the bolts holding the grate in place, careful to make as little noise as possible. It was as you were removing the final screw that you realised something: you had no idea what to say to her. No planned speech or prepared apology, you'd resigned to hoping for a spontaneous burst of thoughtfulness in the moment. You sat there for a minute, fidgeting with one of the screws while attempting to come up with what you would say. Should you start by apologising for breaking in, or for lying to her, or for applying to the job in the first place? You had a lot of things to apologise for.

And unfortunately, the chance to think it through any further was taken from you as the screw slipped out of your hand. You gasped watching it fall, hitting the ground with an faint thud. Although quiet enough for most people to ignore, you knew Liv was too thorough to not investigate. And as expected, following your sharp intake of breath was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, then footsteps gradually approaching.

Liv appeared below you, bending down to inspect the screw before glancing up. Her eyes locked with yours through the mask and widened in shock.

"Hey." The casual tone to your voice sounded forced and you grimaced. But rather than dwelling on it, you dropped from the exposed hiding place and pulled off your mask. You smiled awkwardly, eyes scanning and overanalysing her reaction.

Liv stepped back to lean on the desk for support. Her mouth was agape, but otherwise her face was worryingly blank.

"If this is a bad time I can come back later."

Still no response. The room was drowning in a tense silence.

"Well, actually I probably can't come back." With no social cues to interact with, you began to ramble aimlessly. "I'm guessing you'll find a way to patch that particular security breach." You gestured up to the gap in the ceiling and laughed lightly. "Sorry about that. I didn't know how else to-"

You're cut off as Liv moves impossibly fast, grabbing your shoulders and shoving you backwards against the wall. A thousand different thoughts run through your mind at once, all wondering what she's about to do. The majority are focused on the possibility that she's going to hurt you in some way, although, even if she did have the intention to cause harm, you wouldn't fight back. You were tired of conflict, especially when it involved Liv.

She was standing close, breathing heavily and saying nothing. You couldn't help but let your eyes flicker down to her lips, the temptation to kiss her becoming increasingly vehement. So instead you forced your attention up to her eyes, which held an air of confusion.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was deep, full of unvoiced emotions.

You licked your lips, glancing at her mouth one last time. "I came here to apologise. I didn't mean for any of this to go so far."

"You're lying." She backed away slightly and you immediately missed the proximity.

"I'm not! I just-" You stuttered, then admitted in a quieter voice. "I never meant to hurt you."

She inhaled shakily and swallowed, your eyes tracing the movement of her throat. "And?"

"And because I care about you too much to let you think I did any of this on purpose." You lowered your head, her invasive glare becoming overwhelming.

Soft fingers firmly gripped your chin, compelling you to look up. Her eyes displayed distrust, confusion which you suddenly feel the need to wipe away. You wanted to make your affection for her clear, but found yourself annoyingly speechless. All the recurring thoughts and confined confessions that had been plaguing you for a week suddenly gone from your mind. You were infuriatingly at a loss for words. Although, the warmth of her fingers against your skin reminded you that actions speak louder than words.

You leant in slowly, giving her sufficient time to stop you. She didn't move so you kissed her lightly at first, searingly next. Your arm shifted to wrap around her back tentatively and she moaned faintly in response. Although, it wasn't until you allowed her to take control that any remaining anger dissipated. At that point the kiss became bruising, her hold on you tightening as a wave of shared desperation rolled over the both of you. Before the desperation could reach its peak, however, you separated from her.

Liv was almost panting, her cheeks tinged pink and hair a mess. She promptly attempted to kiss you again, though you dodged the advance and she whined. Her mouth latched onto your neck, sucking at the skin there.

Your head fell back against the wall, dizzy from lust. "Does this mean I can have my job back?" You quipped, running a hand through your hair.

"Depends." She murmured in between kisses. "Do you have anymore secrets?"

"None that I can think of." You smiled, the prospect of returning to what you'd come to consider as normality was an appealing one. Of course there were things you would need to work through with Liv, and many, many extra complications alongside having a relationship with your boss. But nothing easy was ever worthwhile, and Liv was living proof of that.

"Alright. You're hired."

[yeongwvnhi]

》Troublemaker《

Superpowers AU, College AU, Poly AU

Taglist (send an ask if you want to be added): @twancingyunhoe @biaswreckingfics @donghanies @moonshineboyz @soleilsuhh @trashlord-007

Genre: crack, fluff, angst, suspension, suggestive

Rating: 16+

General Warnings: rituals, lots of fighting, language, injuries, weapons, detailed descriptions of fights and injuries, some mature themes, lots of kissing and teasing

Chapter Specific Warnings: teacher and headmaster being overly rude, cussing

Pairing: The Boyz x fem reader

Synopsis: in a world where superpowers are nothing special and everyone is gifted with some kind of special ability, you and your friends quickly grow tired of it and all the rules. So when one of your friends brings up a certain ritual, with which you can travel into another universe, it sounds like heaven, but you quickly realize it's harder to adapt than you'd like.

Word count: 2.7k

》Next《   》Masterlist《

It's fairly early when you leave your home for college, around 7am something. The air around you is still fairly crisp and cool, but you're not bothered. Others would be shaking if they went outside in just skinny jeans and a simple sweater when it's 0°C outside. 

But you? You're not bothered in the slightest as you calmly walk down the street and towards the giant building. 

It's metallic cover reflects the sunlight, slightly blinding you in the process. It makes you squint and avert your eyes. 

"Y/N!" 

Your head turns in the direction of the call and you see your best friend jogging towards you with a bright grin. "Oh, hey." 

"Good morning!" He beams, way too enthusiastic for your liking at this hour. 

A demonstrative yawn escapes you as you lazily wave at him. "Morn'..." You mumble and wipe the tears out of your eyes which gathered due to your yawn. 

"Aren't you gonna give your bestie a hug?" He pouts and his dimples make an appearance. "I'm disappointed." 

A chuckle escapes you before you turn towards him completely and give him his desired display of affection. 

A happy sigh escapes him as he tightly slings his arms around you. "I'm never letting you go, it's too cold!" He whines when you move to break the hug. 

"Wear warmer clothes then, you buffoon." You mumble, struggling to push him away and ultimately just giving up. 

"Nahh, why would I do that when I have my personal heater right under my nose?" He teases. 

"Shut up and let me go, we have classes soon." You whine and push at his chest again. 

He relents with a high pitched laugh as he watches you stumble back, his arms letting go easier than expected and making you lose your balance for a few seconds. 

"You fucker" You hiss while taking big, fast steps towards your destination. 

"My baby! Don't be mad!" Your friend whines while jogging to match your pace. 

"It's not even 8 yet and the two of you are already having a quarrel." A new voice joins the two of you. 

Startled by the sudden intervention, you whip your head to pinpoint the source and find another guy of your friend group. 

"Sangyeon? Where did you come from?" You ask, eyes moving up to meet his.

"You must have forgotten that I always meet you at this section in the road, tsk." The older one answers and shakes his head. 

"Sorryyyy" You say with a chuckle, "but Changmin here decided to be an ass first thing in the morning! It's his fault" 

"HUH??" The culprit screeches in surprise, "Excuse me??" 

"Be quiet you two, I don't need a headache right before classes." 

"Sorryy" Changmin and you chime in unison, "dad." the former adds and snickers, earning himself a glare from Sangyeon. 

The three of you continue on the rest of the way in silence and you couldn't be more grateful. Your mind is not yet in the right place for any intellectual conversation. 

The enormous college building towers in front of you all as you reach the campus. 

"Ohh look, the others are already here!" Changmin happily points out, proceeding to skip towards said friend group. 

Sangyeon and you exchange an amused glance before also walking towards them. 

"Morning everyone." You wave at the guys and they all greet you back. 

"Y/N my love!" Your other best friend exclaims and jumps to hug you, "I'm so glad you're finally here! Please warm me up, I'm freezing!" 

The other guys laugh at their youngest friend's antics, you included. Nonetheless you proceed to hug him around his middle and make use of your powers. Your skin immediately heats up to a nice and cozy temperature and the guy hums in relief. 

"You're such a baby." You chuckle and pat his broad back affectionately.

"Classes start in about 10 minutes, we can go inside now." 

"Oh, look who decided to show up." Sangyeon teases. 

"What? Why would I show up half an hour before classes?" Said newcomer replies. "I can take all the time I need, unlike you guys~" 

"Stop being arrogant, Hyun." The oldest playfully scolds. 

"Now now, don't fight." Jacob intervenes, voice clearly expressing his worry. 

"Hold on, what class do we have now?" You suddenly realize and look up to meet Sunwoo's eyes. 

"Uhh I'm pretty sure it's chem." He replies, now looking at Younghoon for confirmation. 

"Yeah" he nods. "We should go, it's all the way on the top floor of the building." 

Sunwoo and you groan in unison, totally not thrilled on having to walk up 10 flights of stairs. 

"I actually also have chemistry, but in another course." Jaehyun says, "It's on the same floor though." 

The three of you guys look at your friend with hope. 

"Urgh, fiiine." He groans, already knowing exactly what you were all going to ask of him. 

"Yay!" You beam happily and peel yourself away from Youngjae. "Sorry hun but you gotta get inside quickly to stay warm I guess." 

He grumbles something inaudible and you immediately attach yourself to Jaehyun's arm instead and give him a smile. "You're the best, Hyunnie!" 

He can't help the amused smile to crawl onto his lips. "I know." 

You hear Sunwoo make a gagging sound, prompting you to laugh. "Let's go now." 

"Sure, sure." Jaehyun hums and within a second the four of you are up on the top floor. 

"Thank you~" You happily chime and stand on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to the man's cheek. Then you turn around, link arms with Sunwoo and Younghoon and drag them into your chemistry classroom with a content smile on your face. 

Both men exchange a glance at that interaction and internally behead Jaehyun for having his useful ability. 

When Sunwoo turns his head to look at the older guy, Jaehyun shows him a priggish smirk and waves before disappearing. 

"He really-" 

"Good morning you three!" Your teacher greets and Sunwoo immediately stiffens, startled by the voice. "Class starts in 5 minutes, find your seats!" 

"Yes ma'am!" The three of you reply and give a quick bow before scurrying to your seats. 

"Miss Im is so scary…" Younghoon shudders and you nod. 

—

Your teacher had given the class an experiment to work on in groups of three. Funnily enough, a student had broken one of the school's bunsen burners, so now your group was without one. 

"Great, just great" Miss Im angrily says under her breath. 

"Miss" You say and raise your hand. She looks at you and nods. "I can use my power instead for fire-" 

"Under no circumstance will you do that!" She immediately shoots down your idea and raises her voice. "What if you set fire to something in here? You could hurt us!" 

You don't know what to say, feeling at a loss for words at her sudden outburst. Sunwoo and Younghoon notice your shaking hands and glare at the teacher. 

"Did you really have to lash out at her like that? She just suggested it!" Sunwoo angrily replies and stands up from his chair, smacking the table. "We all here have been living with our powers ever since we were 5! We have them under control! Y/N would never hurt someone on purpose!" 

Younghoon had hugged you close to calm your anxiety down while everyone just watched and listened to Sunwoo's outburst. 

Then it was quiet for a moment, Miss Im too stunned to say anything back and the rest of the class only agreed with him. 

Sunwoo was quite literally charged, you could see little lightning bolts dancing all over him. 

"Sunwoo…" You quietly say and he looks at you. "It's okay." 

He takes a deep breath and shoots the teacher another sharp glare. 

She clicks her tongue angrily and just ignores this incident, instead opting to not grade your group on this one. 

—

After class ends the three of you quickly make your way downstairs and onto the campus to meet the others. Sunwoo was stubbornly clinging onto your arm with an annoyed pout on his face. 

"Hey Sunwoo." you speak up and nudge him so he looks at you. "Thank you for interfering." 

He gives you a tight-lipped smile and says "No big deal."

"Thank you too Hoonie." you turn to the older guy and give him an affectionate smile which he returns shyly. 

"Oh look, the troublemakers are coming." Someone teases when the three of you proceed on your way towards your friend group. 

You turn to glare at the person, your red eyes flaring dangerously and they immediately look away, visibly flustered. 

"Hey hey, we already heard you guys got in trouble." Jacob says first when you are within hearing range. "What happened? Are you okay?" 

"Don't worry, we're fine." You answer and wave him off, but the way he eyes Sunwoo tells you that's not what he wanted to hear. 

"Miss Im went off on Y/N after she offered to use her powers for the experiment because a burner was missing." Younghoon explains and you feel Sunwoo tighten his group on your arm even further. "A- Sunwoo what's gotten into you?" You exclaim to him and prod at his arm to give you some room. 

"I'm sorry Noona, I'm just still mad at Miss Im." He mumbles and hides his face on your shoulder. 

"Stop being a baby." Juyeon speaks up and pries the younger one from you… well he tries. "Argh, let go already! Chanhee, come help me out!" 

"Wha- Hyung what am I supposed to do??" The younger one replies incredulously. 

"Just help me get this walking taser off of Y/N!" 

You snort at that exclamation and Sunwoo gives Juyeon a pointed look. "Did you really just call me a walking taser?!" 

"So what if I did?" 

"Unbelievable." Chanhee shakes his head, but an amused smile plays at his lips nonetheless. 

Your eyes basically scream 'help me!!' As you look at Youngjae, the youngest out of you all gives you a laugh before nodding. And suddenly Sunwoo's grip on you loosens and you quickly peel yourself away and hide behind the culprit. "Thanks Jae." you snicker against his arm as you peek out to look at a confused Sunwoo. 

"Yah!" He literally screams, making all of you flinch besides Changmin. "Youngjae I swear-" 

"Enough now, kids!" Sangyeon finally steps in and silences Sunwoo quickly. He pouts and crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

You move from behind Youngjae to stand to his left, now in between him and Changmin. 

"Ohh guys!" The latter suddenly speaks up with sparkly eyes and everyone looks at him. "How about we have a sleepover at my house this weekend? We're free next week so we can have some fun together!" 

Everyone quickly makes eye contact with the others. "Sure!" Haknyeon nods and adjusts his choker. "I'm itching to take this thing off, it's really weird to be as close to normal as it can get here." 

You all laugh at that, remembering how he has to wear it due to his powers. His hyperawareness is a very useful power, but also hard to live with, since he gets easily overwhelmed in crowded places. He had someone in his family create that ability dimmer for him so he could live without being constantly overwhelmed. 

"You over there!" 

All of you turn to see who called, finding it to be your headmaster. "Kim Sunwoo and L/N Y/N, come over here." 

You give Youngjae a panicked look and he shoots you one right back. That can't be good. 

The two of you slowly walk towards the man, stopping about a meter in front of him. "Do you know why I came to speak with you?" 

"No, sir." You shake your head, not daring to look into his eyes. Out of the corner of your eyes you see Sunwoo trembling slightly. 

"Well, I came here because Miss Im told me about what happened during her chemistry lesson. Shall I remind you, Miss L/N, that it is strictly prohibited to use your powers on campus grounds, unless they're unable to be deactivated?" 

"N-No, I know that, sir." You reply quietly. "But we were missing a burner, so I thought-" 

"You thought what? That it would be a good idea to use your powers instead and to risk hurting your classmates? Hm?" 

"I'm so-sorry. It won't happen again, sir" 

"And now on to you, Mister Kim." The headmaster turns to Sunwoo instead and you try to calm your racing heart and keep your anxious tears at bay. "You're really cocky for a 2nd year, just raising your voice at a teacher like that AND using your powers in a classroom." 

"Miss Im has started it." Sunwoo replies through gritted teeth, "She could've calmly explained it, but instead she decided to humiliate Y/N Noona in front of the whole class! Was I just supposed to watch?!" 

"Sunwoo-" You hiss, scared for him. 

"Excuse me?" 

"You heard me right, sir." 

"Don't make me call your parents." The much older man threatens. 

"Oh, go ahead then." Sunwoo replies, "I don't care." 

"Sunwoo!" You say with big eyes. "Stop it!" 

"You should listen to your little friend, Mister Kim." The headmaster sneers, "I'll let you off the hook since you never did anything before. You better behave." he clicks his tongue and leaves. 

You grab Sunwoo by the collar and pull him to match your height. "Are you out of your mind?!" 

"Hey hey…" Jacob quickly makes an appearance and gently touches your shoulders with nothing but worry all over his face. "Please calm down Y/N." 

"You idiot, he could have expelled you or something! Don't do stuff like that!" You practically beg him with teary eyes. 

The younger one's eyes soften. "I'm sorry Noona, I won't do it again, but please don't cry." 

Jacob takes a step back and just watches, mostly relieved that you weren't angry and that he wouldn't have to break up a fight. 

"Give me a hug you idiot…" You grumble and wipe your eyes. Sunwoo gives a panicked wheeze, locking eyes with Changmin and Youngjae. They both just wave him off. 

"Okay okay, don't cry." He says and gives in, pulling you close and patting your back. 

The others watch from a bit away, soft smiles on their faces, almost forgetting why you two are in that situation in the first place. 

But then the bell rang, snapping you all out of your thoughts. 

Changmin drags you by your wrist, Chanhee on your other side as they lead the way to your next class. 

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?" Chanhee softly asks from your left side and you turn to look at him. 

"I feel okay now, thank you for worrying." You reply and flash the taller man a quick smile. 

Changmin intertwined his fingers with yours. It's nothing new, the two of you used to do that ever since you became friends. 

"Chanhee Hyung, where is the literature classroom again?" 

The oldest of you three thinks for a moment and looks at the numbers next to the doors. "It's room 371." 

"Ahh thank you~" Changmin happily replies and you guys make your way into the room. 

—

Chanhee stretches his long limbs after the bell chimed, indicating the end of the class. "Today's lesson was pretty intense, don't you guys think?" 

"Yeah, there was a lot." Changmin frowns a little. "Y/N how were you holding up?" 

Your head shoots up in surprise, caught off guard while packing your stuff. "Uh- It was alright. I understood most of it actually." 

Both men give you weird looks. "You never understand stuff in literature, what happened?" Changmin says with furrowed brows. 

"I think it's because she actually paid attention this time." Chanhee adds with a chuckle, "She looked so concentrated, it was cute." 

You feel your body heating up and avert your eyes. "Whatever, let's go." 

The two men exchange amused glances but don't speak on it any further, opting to just follow you out of the building. 

You didn't expect to run into this particular person when you exited through the large glass doors. 

After all, he got expelled for using his powers on campus and a few other things. 

"Hyunjun?" 

[nanasparadise]

“Paradise lost” Yan!Bruno x female reader

Hiya everyone! This is my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoy it 🥺

Summary: You live a pleasant and regular life as a curator in Naples, until a certain over-protective Capo turns it upside down...

TW: alcohol, drugs, stalking, cursing, noncon touching, mentions of violence and death, toxic relationship, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any type of yandere behaviour in real life.

You were living in a paradise. Your paradise. After having moved to Italy, you were finally able to lead the life of your dreams. The city of Naples with its gentle sea breeze, the vivid streets and the ancient architecture just felt right to you. Not to mention the people; you've met some of the most supporting individuals. Your friends helped you integrate in Italy and gave you some Italian classes in order to improve your, admittedly, quite basic Italian skills. Your job as a curator in an art museum fulfilled your passion. Your small, but very cozy flat felt as if it was sculpted for you. Even after having spent nearly a year in the city, you never regretted your decision to move there. That was until you met a certain peculiar man, who would change your whole life forever.

You spent the night at the bar with Analisa and Federico, your two closest friends. The trio consisting of you were a bit tipsy, because of one too many drinks. The intoxication offered you lots of fun though, as you were constantly laughing at the slightest things. At 4 a.m., you were finally shooed out of the pub by the annoyed owner. The three of you went outside of the bar. You inhaled gladly the cool night air, which put you a bit back to your senses. Your friends, on the other hand, remained tipsy while constantly gigglying and grinning. Analisa and Federico suggested to go back to their place, where they might continue enjoying the night with some pills. You smiled at them, but declined. Drugs weren't really up your alley. 

"Aww, come on Y/N!", Analisa pouted, "it will be fun!"

"No thanks, you guys. You know how I feel about drugs", you replied patiently. 

"Should we take you home, then?", Federico asked, forehead frowned in worries, "You know it can be dangerous out here all alone with the whole mafia." 

"I'll be fine, thank you. You should be more worried for the guys with my Krav Maga skills!", you joked, trying to ease your friend's concerns, “and by the way, you two better be careful with your pills!"

After having hugged them goodbye, you parted ways with your friends. The streets of Naples were mostly quiet. In the distance, you heard fainlty some music from a club. A few stray cats roamed in the shadows, watching you with their predatory eyes. Admitteldy, it made you feel a tad uncomfortable. "Stop it", you muttered to yourself, "Don't let a few cats play tricks on you." Still captured by the felines' gaze, you accidentally stumbled over the pavement. Before you could actually hit the floor, as you anticipated, a strong hand caught your upper arm and hindered the fall. You looked up to your saviour to thank them. It was a rather unusual man. He wore a unique white suit with black spoon-like dots on it and zippers and his black hair was cut in a bob. But what you noticed the most were his deep, ocean blue eyes, which stared back at you with concern. Even though he seemed rather strange, the man's whole atmosphere drew you in. As you kept contemplating him, a sudden thought crossed your mind. "Where did he come from so quickly? I didn't see anyone in the street", you pondered. The thought made you shiver slightly. Realising that you still shamelessly stared at the man, you decided to finally speak up. 

"Thank you for catching me, I guess I had one too many", you said humoursly to him, trying to relax the tense ambience. The handsome guy offered you a smile to your relief. 

"No need to thank me, signorina", he answered cheekily. Something about him calling you "Miss" didn't feel right to you. After all, you were a grown adult and not some teenage girl. 

"No really, thank you, I could have hurt me", you insisted politely. The man still held your arm. You were eyeing uncomfortably to it, hoping he would catch the hint. Luckily, he did so and retrieved his warm hand from your body. The man cleared awkwardly his throat and continued speaking.

"Are you alright though? It is dangerous to walk at night the streets in Naples, especially for a young lady." His worry for you was quite flattering, you admitted to yourself. 

"I am fine, thanks to you", you winked at him. You could swear his cheeks turned slightly pink, but because of the darkness, you couldn't be entirely sure. 

"May I accompany you home?", the man asked, "It would ease my mind if I knew you arrived home safely." You weren't sure how to react. Sure, he was beautiful, but did you really want a stranger to know where you lived? 

"Thank you for your kind offer, but my flat isn't far away, I will be there in a minute", you replied carefully. After all, Federico was right: there were many mafiosi in Naples, maybe he was one of them? Your suspicions towards him increased. The man seemed to feel your paranoia. He flashed you a reassuring smile that would have made every woman swoon over him. 

"I understand your suspiciousness fully,” he said smoothly, "but I do think it is not necessary in this case. If I wanted to cause you any harm, I'd have it done by now. After all, this is a quiet and dark street and no one would have witnessed anything." "Fair enough", you thought. He was right. He could have easily murdered you by now if he wanted to. And there was nothing harmful about letting him follow you, right? 

"Well, if you put it that way, then sure, I'd like that", you answered with a soft smile. You shouldn't have agreed. Oh Y/N, if only you knew, you would have went with your friends. Instead, you went home, the stranger remaining by your side. "By the way, I don't think I introduced myself. My name is Y/N." 

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N, I am Bruno."

Slowly, the two of you became friends. Bruno turned out to be a loyal and charming man. Being the ever so polite gentleman, you didn’t have a clue about the raven-haired man’s true intentions. Oh no, you were blissfully ignorant to his advances. In fact, he knew you before that fateful night. The capo - you didn’t actually know his real job as he kept smoothly tip-toeing around it - had been chasing an enemy Stand user in the art museum where you worked when his attentive gaze had fallen on your form. You had explained patiently to an elderly couple every little detail of the Veiled Christ statue. In that moment, Bruno hadn’t known why he had stopped just to stare at you. Maybe it was the way you had treated the couple with kindness, maybe the way your eyes had lit up with passion as you had talked about the subject that fascinated you. Bruno still wasn’t sure what exactly enchanted him when it came to you. All he was aware of was the fuzzy warmth in his stomach and his racing heartbeat whenever he glanced at you. And that he would never let go of that feeling. So, the young mafioso started following you from that day on. He wouldn’t necessarily call it stalking, he just wanted to make sure that you were alright. And look where it had led him to - if he hadn’t been there to watch over you, you would have hurt yourself, which Bruno couldn’t let happen, of course. He was convinced that you needed him in your life. The following months since the Italian man had been by your side, you were in total safety. 

But you also felt ultimately caged in. You were grateful for Bruno’s friendship, but it also smothered you. Every time you were trying to go out with your friends, he would ask about every tiny detail: where were you going, who did come with you, what were you doing and so on. Eventually, he’d always join you. 

“Cara,” he would say with pleading eyes, “I only want to protect you. The world is a dark place and Naples is its hell. I don’t want to witness how anyone takes advantage of your sweet innocence.”

“Somehow he always knows when I go out with them, too”, you wondered. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that the two of you were dating. Bruno did behave like an overly jealous and possessive boyfriend. Plus, he always acted super touchy and affectionate around you: a pet name here, an arm around your shoulders there. Every time you confronted him, he would laugh it off. “I guess I am bewitched by you, tesoro.” All of this made you feel uncomfortable. Still, you didn’t want to lose your friendship. So you kept quiet most of the time. 

Until one day, you talked to Analisa and told her about it. For once, you needed some other friend than Bruno to listen to you, someone who wouldn’t act like a partner around you. Luckily, you knew for a fact that he would be gone this evening due to his mysterious profession he never mentioned to you. So, you invited Analisa over to your flat to vent. The blue-haired woman listened attentively to your lamentations. The words just spilt out of your mouth until you realised you actually started crying. Analisa held you in her arms and tried to calm you down. “Hey, Y/N, it’s fine. he’s not around”, she kept repeating. Eventually, your sobs died slowly until you were left staring at Analisa puffy-eyed. “If I allow myself to share my piece of mind,” Analisa said angrily, “he is a pezzo di merda. Who does he think he is to behave like that? You’re not his girlfriend, and even if you were, he doesn’t have the right to treat you like you are his possession. You can do whatever the fuck you want.” Her furious words filtered through your brain. “She’s right”, you agreed silently. “And you know what else? I hate to see you down because of that asshole,”  Analisa continued, “But I’ve just got the perfect solution for that.” The blue-haired woman grinned as she took some small pills out of the pocket of her leather jacket. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

At first you weren’t sure about taking the hallucinogens, since you never took drugs before. But for once, just for once, you wanted to escape reality. When did your little paradise turn into hell? You thought, you valued your friendship with Bruno, but now, all you wanted to do was to run away from him. The drug slowly started to kick in as you felt your head spinning. The dizziness made you feel light, as if you were about to fly away any moment. Analisa started to giggle next to you, already high. Suddenly, you began seeing black dots around you, coming closer and closer. “Weren’t these the dots on Bruno’s suit?”, you thought anxiously. They were talking to you, calling you principessa, amore mio, stella mia and many more terms of endearment. The dots turned into hands, touching you everywhere. But you decided to not give in. Not this time. Instead, you transformed your fear into anger. You energetically pushed away all the hands until they scurried away. Your rage wasn’t quenched yet, though.Under the effect of the drug, your fury was amplified significally. You took your phone and called Bruno. You wanted to let your frustration out on him, not only on the creations of your mind of him. He picked up immediately after the first ringing. “Y/N?”, he asked, worry dripping from his voice, “Are you alright? You don’t call normally. Should I come to you? I can drop my work just-”

“Bruno,” you interrupted him abruptly, “stop it. STOP IT. I can’t take this shit anymore. You cling onto me like some lovesick puppy and I’m done. Who the fuck are you even? I hardly know your name and you behave as if we were married. Guess what, you’re not even my boyfriend.” It was quiet for an instant. At first, you thought he hung up, but then you heard a slight chuckle from the other end of the phone. “The fuck?”, you thought, “Did he now completely have lost his mind?” 

“Y/N, is that what it takes to call me? Being high?”, the Italian man replied. Another bitter laugh espaced his mouth. You weren’t sure if he knew about your current state, because of your atypical rage or simply because he seemed to know everything about you without you telling anything. “Another reason for him to leave me alone.” 

“I bet one of your lovely friends gave you a pill, didn’t they?”, Bruno continued, seemingly angry now, too, “You know how I feel about drugs, right?”

You didn’t answer, your fear suddenly coming back. The room around you started to spin more and more. 

“Right?”, Bruno growled again. 

“Y-yes”, you stuttered eventually. 

“Good. I assume you’re in your apartment. Stay there and don’t make anything stupid anymore. I’ll be there soon. Clearly, you need me even more than I thought you would.” With these words, Bruno hung up, leaving you even more confused and frightened. Your body started trembling terribly. You didn’ t know if it was because of the drug or your pitless fear. Analisa, coming back to senses again, realised your bad state and immediately rushed over to you. 

“Shit Y/N, what happened?”, she inquired, worry written in her eyes. You explained to her the situation as best as you could in your foggy condition. “Fuck, I should have never given you the drug,” Analisa replied remorsefully, “I take full responsibility. I’ll call the cops before that bastard arrives here, I don’t care if they find my drugs, we’ve gotta do-”. The woman was interrupted by a loud knock on your door. 

“Y/N?”, Bruno shouted, “I know you’re in there. Open the door please.” 

“What are we doing now?”, you cried desperately. You didn’t even know why you reacted that way. Bruno never gave you a serious reason to be scared of him, but now, after the phone call, your gut feeling told you to run away as fast as you could. 

“I’ll call them now”, Analisa replied hastily, looking for her phone. But it was too late. Bruno broke the door in, his stern gaze resting on you. “Since when was he so strong?” 

“Analisa,” the man said, not breaking eye contact with you for a single moment, “give me your phone and walk away.” 

“Are you mad?”, the blue-haired woman shouted furiously, “I’m not gonna leave Y/N alone with you after that.” 

“Give me your phone and walk away, now”, the man repeated gloomly. His eyes, normally a serene blue ocean, turned into a destructive storm. Bruno smashed his fist into the wall, leaving it with a gaping hole. “If you don’t leave immediately,” he growled, “your family will suffer great consequences. Your little sister Teresa? She will die in a tragic car accident. Your father Marco? He will die of liver failure for drinking too much. Or so will be the official reports.” You stared big-eyed at Bruno, your fear only increasing. There was no doubt now that he worked with the mafia. Analisa slowly walked past you, tears falling down her cheeks, as she softly said sorry to you. Her phone was resting on your couch. Once she was gone, you broke down completely. What was he going to do? Bruno stood now in front of you, dragging you ungently by your arm and monitoring you to your bedroom. Was he really going to…? 

“No, no, no, NO!” What first started with a whisper ended in a bloodcurdling scream. The Italian didn’t stop though, pushing you instead on your bed. He seemed to be tired of your behaviour. Bruno sighed deeply, finally speaking to you now. 

“Y/N, I’m not going to do such thing. I just want you to realise, that you behave recklessly and I can’t let you continue like this. I just want to protect you. Look at you, being high now.” He gestured elegantly at you with his slim hand. What was he talking about? Your hallucinations had stopped the minute Bruno knocked on your door. 

“I am not high anymore”, you simply replied. 

“Are you sure about that?”, the raven-haired man replied. His eyes began to glimmer darkly. Suddenly, you witnessed how your legs were zipped away. 

“What the fuck?”, you screamed desperately. What was happening? You were sure, that this wasn’t the effect of the drug, that Bruno somehow did this to your body. “What are you doing to my legs? I-I kn-o-ow that you a-are z-z-ziping them off of m-me”, you stuttered anxiously. 

“What do you mean? I can’t see such thing”, Bruno replied coolly. “As I said, you are hallucinating.” 

“I am not hallucinating, you are doing this to me! I know you do! Please, stop it. Stop it...”. Your pleads turned into ear-piercing sobs. Tears clouded your vision as you desperately tried to grasp for air. 

“Hush, cara.” Bruno was suddenly next to you on your bed, draping his arm over your shoulders and whispering in your ear. “This is all in your mind. You need to sleep now. Tomorrow, everything will be fine again. I will stay by your side and protect you.” His warm breath grazed your earshell. The man nuzzled your hair, admiring its smooth texture and lovely scent. “I will always be with you.”

Eventually, after all your crying, you did fall asleep in Bruno’s arms. The latter kept stroking your cheek, marveling your soft breathing and beautiful face. Of course he felt a tinge of guilt for having used Sticky Fingers on you. Your desperate cries as you called him for help still pained him. But you needed to learn your lesson. Bruno could tolerate a lot, but drugs weren’t on that list. He would give Analisa a quick visit to make sure she’ll never talk to you again. Or to anyone, for a matter of fact. You didn’t need such a bad influence. “Not my sweet Y/N”, he whispered in your locks. “From tomorrow on, you will live with me, where I can always protect you. Now, doesn’t that sound like paradise?”

[dreamiesdotcom]

butterfly effect│nct dream

Summary: You think of it as something caused by the butterfly effect — the great loves you had to leave, and the one that made you stay.

Pairing/s: 7dream x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Moon's note: since it's my birthday and I promised... it's not the best but I'd like to thank you guys for staying with me and wishing me a happy birthday! I hope you all have an awesome 2021!

You weren't really thinking straight when you met him — instead, your mind was a mess of one thought and sidelines; the little things. Butterfly effect. The knowledge that ten minutes from now the train will board — you'll miss your ride to school, you'll miss school — so you run faster, faster, and there it goes. The butterfly effect — knowing that what little thing you did could've changed someone's life entirely.

If you have made it ten minutes earlier, maybe you'd be sitting in the spot where a child buzzes with excitement, knowing that she'll see her father sometime soon, and in exchange, she will be in another place — maybe she won't meet the girl sitting across who offers her one of her candies. Maybe she won't be riding the train at all — maybe she would have to wait six months again before she can go see her dad.

You sulkily take the path to one of the exits, thinking about catching the bus or something. The skies are dark and you're aware of its plan, also aware that you left your umbrella. Frustrated and too annoyed to even think about school, you crash to the empty bench, bags left to drop to the floor. Tough luck. 

The boy chuckles, "Missed the train too?"

"Yeah," you grumble, not even bothering that he's a total stranger. "Was caught in a daydream and got lost on the way. You?"

"Eh, my idiot of a best friend made me wait," he shrugs. He brings his book down and offers you a handshake, "I'm Huang Renjun — I see we study at the same place. May I know your name?"

You don't speak after a minute or two, but you shake his hand, to which he laughs at. You think it was you being overwhelmed. Maybe your soul just knew how much impact he was meant to throw at your life.

Huang Renjun doesn't become a one-time encounter, but instead, he becomes someone you take train rides with; be it you're late or not, to school or to the library. He stays constant occurrence, so much that Huang Renjun turns into Renjun, then Renjunnie — until you're free to call each other names like 'dumbass' and 'stupid' and everything crumbles down; formalities, facades, walls. You don't feel it then, but if you were to look back, you think it's that one dark-skied Monday with you two terribly late and finding yourselves back in the same bench, when everything the world laid down for you has shifted.

Renjun pout his lips, bored. He tears his bag from himself and lets it stay under the shed, but he stretches his hands out to the sky where his eyes are set, watching water fall in tiny drizzles before a full-blown rain, "Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?"

"When we should be at school?" you huff, more amused than questioning but it comes out as a scolding. He only nods his head, and you furrow your brows, "Renjun, you're crazy."

He doesn't reply, only answers with a deadpan gaze that asks Are you going or not? and it makes you tighten your expression further. 

"Hold me."

The boy grins in triumph — he cheekily smiles, immediately pulling you under the rain and laughs like a tiny kid. It's contagious, you figure out, his laughter; if not for his hand on your waist and the other entwined with yours, you would've fallen over laughing with him. It was less of a dance and more of a cuddle, swaying to the sound of the rain and his sweet hums. Renjun whispers to you the melody of a love song, and you couldn't help but ponder.

"I always wanted to do this, you know?" you feel silly even confessing, "To dance under the rain with someone, look into each other's eyes, exist as if the world doesn't and maybe give them a kiss. I wonder how that'd feel."

Renjun's serenity read ideas — those that never failed to get you two in trouble. He tilts his head, "Kiss me, then."

You feel like the world stops, and your heartbeat slows, as if the raindrops are little speckles of star-like lights littering the surroundings. Your eyes widen at his suggestion, shock ripping through your body, a confused sound escaping your throat, "What?"

"I guess you don't always need to have feelings for the person you're kissing," Renjun purses his lips. Of all people, you laugh in your head, those words you expected to come out of this one's mouth the least. He huffs, "And I don't have feelings for you."

There's just enough hesitation — uncertainty, unpredictability, skepticism — in his eyes that you find he can't be trusted as much as he normally would be. Renjun drops a half-smile, eyes unreadable, "But I sure do know I want to kiss you. A lot. Right now." 

Renjun smiles in victory the second time that day.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You come across Donghyuck in the most inconvenient way possible; a few months after you started dating Renjun and there's a little too many mishaps with making schedules meet. He strides to your chair one sunny Friday, clothes too colorful for the shades of beige decorating the place. Donghyuck didn't know how to approach you; he just kind of winged it by showing you Renjun's texts that he asked him to pick you up because something came up and he can't make it anymore. You didn't really like that — the fact that he didn't even speak, the fact that Renjun stood you up. You thought Donghyuck was arrogant. The car ride home was silent.

He was far from that, you learn the one too many times the same scenario occurred. Renjun was too busy to even show up, more often in the library than in his own place. Donghyuck, being his best friend, never failed to be there for you, keep your relationship intact, make excuses for the other. He'll pick you up from where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend, grab food and spend the whole day playing video games that only he understands, and then half of the time he'll compliment you with little playful remarks. That day was supposed to be nothing so different from the others — it's just that it didn't take much longer for Donghyuck to fall.

How could he not? You smiled so lovingly and spoke so gently, always so understanding and patient and kind. How can he not, when he's already known what song makes your day the most? When he saw how ethereal you looked under the moonlight, as he danced with you by the shore? Sure, maybe most of these moments wouldn't have been if it wasn't for Renjun's absence, and truly most of the things he loves about you aren't for him; he fell in love anyway. Still, that day was supposed to be nothing so different from any others — you're stuck in the odd place quite between grateful and guilty.

"Something came up, he won't be here." The boy says firmly through gritted teeth, hands-on your wrist trying to make you get up, "Please. He doesn't have his phone. He's not coming anymore, let's go home."

"Let me wait for him, please," you say, eyes teary, "Please, Donghyuck."

"No." He simply mutters, and whether it was the sinking feeling of defeat or the determination in his voice, it doesn't matter. You let yourself get tugged away from that place, feeling weak and oddly empty. The car ride home was silent. 

"Thanks a lot, you know?" You shyly say later, once Donghyuck's lost enough in video games and he's run out of knock-knock jokes and witty statements. He couldn't stand the sight of you with your head hung low and eyes teary, "You're always there for me when Renjun is not and... just thank you."

"You're welcome," he sincerely replies. You try to look for it, the lilt in his voice or the smirk stretching his lips, but all you see is worry, and it concerns you. The bad butterflies in your stomach, the bad thoughts in your head; you feel like right now, with you so vulnerable, there should be someone by your side — someone that is totally not Donghyuck. He clears his throat, "You know he didn't mean to, right? He wants time with you too, a lot, you know?"

"I know what I have, Hyuck," you reply, a chuckle at the end of your tone. You lean your back to the couch, head tilted up and voice hoarse, "and I'm fucking scared I'll take him for granted."

Donghyuck's heartbeat slows down, but you don't need to know that. If you're thinking of a similar situation, a place in time back then as cruel winters and as harsh as summer sunlight in the afternoon, you figure he doesn't need to know that, too.

You let out a huff and a smile, "I don't want to know how painful it is to lose Huang Renjun."

Donghyuck thinks he knows why you said it; things normally go down the drain when you start realizing why someone fell for a certain person — at least, he thinks. If his experience is a reliable source, this is the point where you start falling for that person too. When you see how gentle they are, how caring, how understanding. Maybe Donghyuck is lonely — maybe he just wants to be someone who holds another person, singing them lullabies until they fall asleep, much like Renjun does for you. Maybe you're really just lovely — maybe there's an undiscovered force in the universe that places you in the center of his everything. He makes note of the rejection in your confession, and he accepts it, gracefully.

This is the point where he suppresses all the what-ifs in his head — what if you gave me a chance? What if I met you first? What if I didn't skip class that day, and I was with Renjun, and I met you at the same time as him? Do you think you would've ended up with me? — but these thoughts, despite being concealed, they leave a constant reminder that they're still there. It's a truth you both already know, the words that drip like honey from his lips, "I could love you better, so much better."

It'd be a lie to say you didn't think of it, considering his feelings. It would be an even bigger lie if you said that you don't think anyone can love you better than Renjun — you know someone can, and with how you two are handling this, it wouldn't be so hard to. Donghyuck is just so easy to fall for — the way he always knows the right thing to say, the compliments he throws at people, how confident he is, how clingy he gets. You would lie if you're asked, but you can't deny having feelings for Donghyuck, you can't deny how many times you've fallen in a reverie thinking of how good it must feel to be adored by him. Maybe you were lonely, maybe Donghyuck was just like that. Either way, no matter how great this love could be, you know it's wrong. 

"I know you could. I couldn't be any happier when I'm with you. Those instants, they're one of the most beautiful moments in my life, but —" you halt, eyes still staring up at the ceiling. The twist in your gut tightens as you proceed, "But in those moments, I was secretly hoping for things. I was hoping that he was the one doing all of that for me. I was hoping that the happiness I had with you, he was giving me instead."

Donghyuck remains silent for a while. He smiles wistfully, "I know."

It's a rather odd answer, but you figure it shouldn't shock you as much anymore. You sit up straight, confused. Donghyuck motions for you to stand as he does the same. Stars shine in his eyes still, but it's a different light — there's hope in them, but it's a difficult kind of hope. He's beautiful even under dull lighting, it's something hard to pronounce; unrestrained and raw, as if one look at him and you'll crumble.

"Please, for just a while, even just a little bit," He steps closer, eyes downcast, "hold me like you love me."

You figure you were right about thinking that there was always something wrongfully more with Donghyuck — also discover that no matter how much more this feeling is, whatever it is, it can never be love; at least not a healthy one. What love could possibly ruin relationships? Donghyuck and Renjun are practically soulmates — they were made to be best friends, and while they had their other friends, nobody is just like Renjun and nobody is like Donghyuck. You don't want them to fall apart; you of all people know how hard it is to lose someone special. 

Donghyuck's hug felt like fire, uninhibited and uncontrolled, given to someone so undeserving. You hold him like you love him the same way.

"I don't need you to love me back," but maybe he was hoping a bit. Yeah. Maybe. "There was never a chance for us, you know? Against my own best friend, I know I won't stand a chance. I just wanted to hear it from you."

A pause.

"Because I can dance with you under the moon, and I can walk on streets holding your hands, I can give you all the time in the world — I could spend a lifetime telling everyone I'm yours," Donghyuck locks gazes with you, and you wonder how he manages to be both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. He shakes his head a bit, "But that won't make you love me."

"Because I can only ever catch you," he says wistfully "whenever he fails to. I always do, don't I? Catch you, save you, love you. But you're not falling for me. You're not in need of my saving. You're not mine to adore."

He loosens his hug, looks at you like the sun bidding farewell to the moon. He's just as beautiful, if not more, he really is — gold dusting his eyelids and strawberry balm on his lips — he's ethereal. Donghyuck is beautiful in all ways manageable and not, but it's also a different kind of beauty — quite like love, adventurous but uncertain, poetic but tragic. There's a lot of pain in this beauty. He closes his eyes.

"There's not much of us, but I'm setting you free."

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You find yourself knocking at Renjun's door that night, for no particular reason — certain events made you forget that he stood you up. Renjun apologizes and repeats his reasons like a mantra, but words seemed to leave his mouth once he sees your eyes; tired and sore. You don't really need his apologies. You just need him.

Apologies, you see, they almost always never come when they're asked for. When they do, they're mostly unwanted and unnecessary from that point forward. You just feel odd, more restless than you actually are, the world is too loud — you just want to close your eyes and escape for a bit. Renjun holds you silently the whole night, his heartbeat calm, his arms holding you tight and secure.

Renjun knows, but he decides it's better for him not to. He shifts a bit, "If not because of me, why are you sad?"

A part of you knows that this is his way of telling you he understands, that he's aware of what somethings happened behind his back. Renjun always knows. The bigger part of you hoped he didn't — selfishly. You know it's the safest choice to keep your mouth shut. 

You're sad, for a million reasons or for just one, you don't bother keeping up with the numbers. Renjun looks at you like you're a treasure, though, like he means it — you think the only favor you could do him and for yourself as well is to lie. You grin, effectively hiding away the tears threatening to brim your eyes, "I forgot."

He doesn't really know what answer he expected, but his heart sinks at the reply nonetheless. Renjun decides, tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes quickly in a way Renjun wishes it wasn't. He wakes up tired — he was up all night singing lullabies to himself, whispering confessions that wouldn't change a thing and promises he'll never be able to fulfill, stuff that would never make you stay. Renjun didn't cry all night — there was a tear or two, there was three — he didn't just cry all night. He did so much more — relive the past, think that he's sorry, accept defeat and the fact that he's never gonna be enough for you; then he closes his eyes. The rain pours heavily outside and Renjun reaches a hand out to the sky.

"Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?" he says with tired eyes. "One time once more, baby."

You ignore the telltale signs of a heartache — maybe you were too numb, maybe you wanted to pretend it's all normal. Renjun tugs you outside and pulls you into a hug so tight, as if he didn't want to let go but he's losing you. Is he? 

Dancing with Renjun under the rain is oddly similar to the one you shared with Donghyuck under the moonlight, and you find yourself full of guilt as you sway together with him, humming love songs just right next to your ear. 

Renjun knows of that dance, of course he does. He was in front of the place you two were supposed to meet at, hoping that he could still make it. Because of this, he doesn't ask why you're entwining fingers with his while recalling memories of another. He doesn't mind — he thinks, as long as your eyes look at him so softly like that, he doesn't mind anything.

You think Renjun is beautiful like this — his everything an aesthetic you can endlessly write about. His eyes, though, his eyes look distant, wishful and longing. Renjun looks at you like he's letting you go and your heart drops, as gentle and as sweet as the poems he's written of you and the kiss he gifts your lips with.

"Just leave, darling," he whispers, "Stay a lovely memory to me."

It's just like any lovely excerpts you wrote, the last line with Renjun quite familiar and bittersweet. As if in any other circumstances, had he said only the second sentence and the second sentence only, it would have made your heart skip and your cheeks rise in temperature.

Real love is a little not like literature, though, at least the one you had with Renjun isn't. It wasn't almost being the same person. It wasn't sweet chaos. For both of you, it was doing what was the best for each other at the moment — whether it will make you cry, whether it will be painful before it becomes easy, knowing that it won't always be picture perfect but still wanting to give each other what you deserve. It was so much simpler than how he said it in his poetry, just as complicated but not any less romantic than that. Huang Renjun knew that you were aware of what was the best for the both of you — with neither of you ever wanting to force something to work and end up hating each other the more it fails, successfully trading the happy memories with more regrets, you walk away. Renjun doesn't follow just because love isn't always like the idea of it, but he does remember to never forget. You walk away, holding his love dear to your heart.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

Some people are just not meant to be alone, you think. Mark Lee comes just as quickly as Renjun was gone.

You don't even know why your paths crossed — Mark is literally the town's golden boy. He plays sports and aces exams and has a good set of friends; surely, he has more important matters to deal with, and definitely getting coffee at a dingy coffee shop isn't one of them. Not when it's three a.m in the morning, at least.

The shy barista at the counter sends you a gleeful smile as he hands out your order, one which you return with a curt nod and a quiet wish goodnight. He watches intently, subtle but focused — he really isn't one to gawk at people, but he couldn't help it. You held with you a smile that doesn't match the exhaustion in your eyes. You looked like hope. You looked like someone to look up and search for the stars even on a cloudy day. You seemed like a full-bloomed spring to trapped minds and sour hearts. You think Mark is a little too curious like Alice. Mark thinks you're even better than the Wonderland he'd always fall for.

He knows you saw him, he feels the hesitation in your stare. He knows you know him, he's shared a couple of classes with you and has done a couple of assignments as a team, so naturally, Mark couldn't help himself but ask, "Wanna sit down with me?"

You walk up to him with a nod, grateful. Mark tries to remain calm for the rest of the night — caffeine not helping — and he tries to look at his book instead of you, but he simply fails to. He tries his best to conceal himself, but he can't seem to tear away. He can't look at anywhere else when you're sitting there right in front of him — you know pain, you're familiar with sadness, have always been friends with enduring what you couldn't take; Mark sees in you a landscape that makes his heart hurt, a leafless tree he loves by itself but couldn't resist the urge to nurse back into life. Every now and then you'd look up from your cup and he would look away from this book that he's "reading" and your eyes would meet, and the both of you would shyly giggle and open up a small talk.

He walks you home that night, this one and the other and the many next times after that; it's just your thing by now, getting coffee at the most unreasonable hours of the day and staying up until it's too late for either of you to sleep because by this hour you should be blinking awake, walking down lifeless streets and past neon signs and holding hands. Mark would look at you with such awe and when he does, you have some things you forget, and your heart races. He's became a regular part of your day, a constant stranger. And then he becomes your friend. Then kind of more. You think, maybe, just maybe, he can become something more than more.

"I have many regrets in this life, you know? But I don't wanna be imprisoned by them," you shrug, too scared to look up at him and see that he wonders just what failures you've done. You continue your slow pace, both in walking and letting go of things much like words, "I don't want you to be one of them."

Mark stops walking, but he doesn't make you feel like you've said something wrong, so you finally glace up and meets his eyes; those that hold as much tiredness as yours, pressure, those that are glassy and brimming with tears. You smile, "And I like you, a lot, even if I'm in broken pieces. "

Mark looks at you and doesn't see majestic brokenness. Mark falls deeper in love that day, the next and all the others; you were deep like that. He fell and couldn't stop falling and he can't wait to fall even deeper into you, diving into unknown waters with blind fates and silent confessions of love. 

Your relationship was practical — literal and convenient, full of compromise but in a good way. You both were almost always on the same page of what should be done and how to do it, and if not, you two know that it's the best to give it a rest and understand. The balance, that kind of synchrony — it was something you both need, was something you liked about your dynamic; the fact that the partnership was there and you're certain of no taking more than you could give and no giving of less than you deserve. For once, you feel like you aren't pouring liquid into a leaking jar, and you feel content at the warmth he gives you with.

Renjun never made you feel this way; he didn't make enough accommodations for your relationship and you didn't voice out your expectations of him, you just wished he magically knew. Because he always knew that you would understand and other people wouldn't, he ended up giving you most of the weight of the relationship you both should've carried together. Mark was everything you hoped Renjun was; this is where the conflict begins.

When love is fueled by what the past wasn't able to give and what the present is willing to offer, you end up falling for the ideas and not the person. He makes up to what Renjun didn't, he filled to the brim what Renjun wasn't able to, he satiates what Renjun couldn't satisfy. You always saw the things Mark did as what you expected from someone else, so you weren't able to appreciate them as they are. You never truly saw him as Mark Lee who loves you, always as the boy who did everything the last didn't. 

Just as any relationship that revolves around somebody who's not involved, the conclusion was something you saw coming. It comes with tired eyes and worn out sighs, burned out hearts and linked fingers, sour hearts turning bitter. Mark doesn't look at you at all, and you keep your eyes set to the stars.

"The thing with me is I always long for consistency — for someone to understand me and stay understanding of me forever." He breathes out, voice raw. Did he scream? Was he screaming in those empty spaces you two gave each other? In any of those yells, did he call your name? You think you need to yell at the top of your lungs just to hear a sound louder than your heartbreak. He chuckles before continuing, "And I know that it doesn't exist and it never will. I knew that since childhood, but even if I continue disappointing myself, I never stopped hoping."

His shoulders drop — he feels that weak that time, even his knees buckle down and his eyes sting from holding back tears. "So baby, don't play with me," he whispers, more begging than warning and he falls apart, "I don't need a chase — I need someone to wait for the end with."

There's a whine at the back of your throat, but you settle with looking at his direction with an apologetic call of his name. He doesn't reply.

Mark never knew that he could fall in love with the same person all over again even during a break-up. You're just lovely like that — always dancing in your daydreams while you carry the world on your back. Mark feels his breath catch at his throat, he feels his palms go numb, he feels his heart going haywire and begging him so desperately because no, no, don't let go, please, don't let go! 

"There's a huge difference between how much I love you, and how much I can take." He finally spares you a glance, his everything so spent and lonely and blue in a way that isn't the calm of an ocean. "If you can't love me, then please let me go."

Mark knew your answer when you smiled.

────── ❁ ──────

The trip to the coffee shop was slow and empty and chilly, your hands trembling in need to get a hold of warm coffee and your feet taking little steps to such a familiar place. Honestly, you don't even know why you're letting yourself go there — why do you keep on doing this, torturing yourself? You don't even know — maybe you came here to reminisce the past, hold it close one last time before letting it go. Maybe you're here to remember how Mark was, how he was before he met you — oh, how you wish he didn't meet you. How badly you wish he never did, how you wish he never offered you a seat, his comfort, his love, a place in his heart. How you wish you didn't steal the sparkles in his eyes, and at that very moment, you feel the sudden urge to turn around. 

But you're already pushing the glass door wide open, causing the chimes to make that delightful sound.

"Good...!" the cheery voice fades, a concerned look adorning exhausted eyes, "...evening. The usual?"

You hum, nodding soullessly. The boy — Jeno, quietly works your order until he decides he's had enough of you rubbing your cheeks raw wiping down tears. He sighs and finishes your drink, hands it to you with a sympathizing smile, "Uh, you don't look fine, but are you okay?"

You suppress a giggle and a glare — why does he care? But you're lonely, too lonely, so lonely that you only manage a nod, "Rough time. I wish today didn't happen."

"Oh, but other people had the best day of their lives today. They wouldn't experience that day if today didn't happen," he smiles, flashes of child-like optimism and hopes hinting behind the sleepy glaze in his eyes. "You're on your way to yours."

And while on any other day, his reply would have made you annoyed, you find that he's right, and wish that he indeed is. You feel like it's the only right that didn't go wrong today.

Something warns you that you shouldn't be getting yourself caught in his strings and his ways, but you find yourself straying around his orbit. You were lonely. It was that bad — so bad that you found comfort in everything and everyone and Lee Jeno just happened to be convenient; It's just safe to be around each other, and that's what great friends are supposed to be, right? Jeno doesn't judge and he doesn't pry when you tell him not to push it, and he tries to understand without forcing you to make him if you're not ready. Lee Jeno had a soul like comfort and a smile like a piece of home. You insist that you had no interest in either, but with you so down and him the only thing pulling you up, you couldn't help but let him in.

You think some people are just like that — timeless souls stuck in mortal bodies, liquid gold; glowing and burning and bright and hopeful, stars. They're like stars — human stars.

He's always beside you, you see, Lee Jeno. He answers the dumbest questions and the deeper ones, he stays up listening to your heartaches and struggles. He knows a lot about you — never everything, but they're more than enough — and you know about him, too. It's a dangerous edge you two are leaning far too close to tipping over, and still, your gaze screams life and hope and energy, Jeno thinks he doesn't mind. He remembers earlier memories with him crumbling under your fingertips, tears in his eyes.

"Mark Lee... he's not replaceable and I'm not a replacement..." he shifts his eyes down, can't bring it to him to just look at you without breaking himself. He manages a heartwrenching smile, "but I think I'd rather be a replacement rather than a distraction, darling."

But you looked at him and cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead so mellowly, assuring him that he's neither. The storm in his heart stops and all his insecurities don't matter, and Jeno doesn't think he ever felt this good — so light, so dreamy. Your touch brings comfort, much like lullabies, and after years on insufferable insomnia, Jeno falls asleep.

Your gaze, too. If you continue looking at him that way, he doesn't think he'll mind anything.

"Thanks, Jen. For the coffee," you say with a smile, another night spent with him at the coffee shop. These days, you spend most of your free time waiting for his shift to end, watching him stutter and flush every time he realizes you've been watching him. There's a giddy feeling spreading inside your gut as you continue, "and for staying with me. That was so thoughtful of you — how much lovelier can you be?"

He laughs, shaking his head. He sighs, "Stop it. You're giving me hope."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Oh, but I want to," you quickly roll your eyes, an attempt to faux cool control, your expression immediately shifting to something welcoming and soft just enough that his chest tightens. Jeno feels kind of odd — a good kind of odd, a welcomed sensation. You beam up at him with glassy eyes. Jeno shifts his to his shoelaces.

"Don't do that."

"Jen..."

"I love you," he confesses, shallow breaths coming in quick intervals. The floor seems to sway under his feet and the skies feel like they're swirls of dripping liquid, and it's hard to even breathe, let alone swallow the bitterness of his words, "But I would rather have you not say it back than hear you not mean it."

"I'm... I— Jen," you gasp out, fast to hold his hands to try to keep him down. For a reason or two, you feel like crying. Jeno feels lost. "I'm falling."

But you're not, and you don't know why you said it, but there's a galaxy in his eyes and the universe so beautifully laid down in his mind and he's pulling you close, tears in his eyes, this boy. Lee Jeno who's so in love with you, Lee Jeno who's hopelessly whipped, Lee Jeno — your sweet, sweet boy. You look up to him and shakily whispers, "Please catch me."

Jeno looks at the luminaries and wonders what it would feel like if one day he looks into the very same orbs only to find that the stars have fallen.

The wind blows gently, the coldness of the place prickling his skin, but Jeno doesn't think it's what caused the flush to rise on his cheeks. He stutters, curses a little, says again those little words and dives for a kiss — you feel like it's the best night ever; no nightmare, just pure bliss. 

You blindly walk the path inside your house, dropping your belongings on either of your sides. You try to keep your knees from buckling as you bring yourself to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes. You lean your back to the cold tile walls of your shower, feeling the rush of water that is supposed to drown your thoughts not doing anything to keep them at bay. What have I done?

Loving Jeno is easy, though, far too easy if you may. He's so full of love and in need of affection but never asks for them, and you're more than glad to give all of that to him without words needed. The days with him have been light-hearted, felt deeply nonetheless. In this little world, it's you and him, him and you, no one else. Right? Is that right? Do you promise?

Jeno knocks at your home one day, sullen and lethargic. He spreads his arms out for a hug, one you throw yourself into without hesitation. He leans into the touch, leaning down to burry his head on the crook of your neck, "Thank you, baby."

Your brows draw closer, "For what?"

"You were never mine, but you were always lonely." He suddenly says, He suddenly says, voice fading weak and unstable. There's warm tears dampening your shoulder, and he shakes ever so slightly that you panic and try to pull away, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he continues, "In my twisted logic, I made myself believe that it's the same."

"What are you saying, Jen?" You laugh, a bit confused and a lot afraid. "I love you."

"No, please, don't say that," his reply baffles you. When he lets you go, Jeno has a certain saddened look in his eyes, and it feels so familiar that you should be numb to it by now. You're not, though, and so you pretend to not know where this all would lead. He pulls you in again and hugs you tighter, "Let me tell you that I love you without you answering back, please."

The boy breathes out shakily, "I want us to have at least one memory that isn't a lie."

And then Lee Jeno says goodbye.

────── ❁ ──────

Park Jisung is the clumsy florist who keeps breaking vases in the flower shop his cousin owns, just several blocks away from the kindergarten both your nephews attended. You meet him one too many times you had to pick the little boy up, and talked to him finally one fine Tuesday when you decided flowers would be nice, out of random. You become friends from then on. 

This thing you have with Jisung is something lovely, child-like, and carefree. It doesn't put any pressure on you — there are expectations, but they're all voiced out and kept healthy. You're friends — great friends, not best friends — whose dynamic is not necessarily convenient. It's safe to say that some people think you have a complicated relationship.

You think, not really. Not to the two of you, at least — Jisung just knows when you're down and in need to be left alone or cuddled, while you know when he needs to cry or if he's pushing himself to his limits. He knows what flower you hold most dear, your treasured scent, your favorite shade of yellow. You know his most loved tracks, the beat he looks the happiest humming to, the color of his dreams. It's much more simple than that — it's just that you two have fun, even with your differences, and when you're together, everything else just fades away.

You just... don't like being alone. Jisung doesn't like not having company — well, there are indeed people he doesn't want to be accompanied by, but he doesn't like being the only one walking alone in crowds of many. He doesn't make your heart skip, not really, instead it's just a warm feeling in your chest, much like home. He doesn't make you nervous — not at all, but he does make you feel safe. Comforted, even. It's the type of love you've always yearned for, the only kind of love he's comfortable with.

"You dance?" Your eyes widen in surprise, dropping your book on the table. Then you smile, "Oh? Aren't you full of surprises?" 

"Mhm, you'll see." He says with embarrassment hinting his voice, but then he stops arranging the flowers and looks at where you're sitting. "You? Aren't you full of surprises, too?"

You pick up your book, a sudden low, shrugging. "It won't be a surprise if I say now, wouldn't it?"

He just shakes his head, tries to lift the vase to the other side and accidentally knocks another one down. You laugh at him, curious at how much control he has over his body that he must be able to dance so fluidly, hit the beat like it's what he's born for, and yet he can't seem to hold a vase and not break it. Jisung giggles, taking it lightly. You wish he didn't. 

The days with Jisung are filled with your favorite bouquets and post-it notes. Each and every day, the words written inside changes from 'You did well', until it develops to 'I hope you smiled today,' 'I wish something good happened today,' and 'You're really, really pretty.' He'd take you to little uphills, asks you to teach him how to make floral crowns from wildflowers, dance with you barefoot under bright daylight. A little summer, a certain person, your most dreaded feeling of having someone mean so much that you let flowers bloom in your chest until it's so hard to breathe and you cough them up.

"My parents asked me to study dance in another country," he mumbles one day, a shaky breath leaving his lips, "Please give me a reason not to go."

"Chase your drive, Sungie," you whisper back. You lean your head further to his chest, safe and warm and fading, "I love you, so choose your dreams over me."

There's the slightest hint of betrayal in his voice, a tinge of rejection in his eyes, "If you love me, why would you make me choose?"

If you love me, why can't you choose me? You selfishly ask, the kid in you whining at the thought of being left alone. The greedy part of you begs to ask him to stay, the needy part of you wants to hug him until he's so full of you that he forgets even the bare thought of wanting anything else. The silent voice inside you, the one that learned and keeps learning, the one that could've saved you so many times if you listened to it, sighs sadly. Don't risk anyone's future for your present, it seems to say.

"Because I love myself too," you look directly to his eyes, cupping his cheeks in between your palms, "and we need to put ourselves before anybody else."

And yet again, you're starstruck by the almost golden swirls in his irises, a peek of his soul. You think his eyes are beautiful — astounding, art worthy, a sight to never get tired of. He thinks they're only beautiful because he's looking at you.

This thing with Jisung isn't something you should've let go. You shouldn't have let him go but you weren't ready and the last thing you wanted was to hurt someone who held you so close beautifully. He didn't mean to, though — it was just too hard not to go overboard, and the next thing he knew, he was in love. He didn't mean to, so he walks you home the last night, hand in hand with a certain something hidden underneath his mellow smile. Jisung stands in front of you, waiting for you to open your gates, but you don't move. You stay basking in the tenderness of his gaze.

You think the little problem is that he's even more breathtaking up close and in silence, when the night feels so dead that it thrives — you feel like if you weren't so broken, if you don't keep on seeing another person when you look at him in the eyes, if you let go of the past, Jisung would be everything your heart desired. It just so happened that you two are both too infinite for forever, too broken to fix anything for the latter. Jisung was too charming — his smile was one that doesn't ask for attention but still steals it, never content with just taking your breath away so he takes with him your mind and soul.

You can't handle losing any more of yourself, though, so you smile, "Thank you for waiting."

"I have always been waiting for you," he grins shyly. You make a mental note to remember him like this — dyed locks a mess on top of his head and glasses messily perched on his nose bridge, tall and too pretty to be real, eyes so loving and expressive. There's an obvious sorrow in his voice, "Without fail, consistently, inevitably, forevermore."

You smile, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheeks, "Good night, Jisung."

The last note comes in between the pages of your notebook, a pretty pastel purple accompanied by pressed wildflowers. There, in his messy letters and colorful ink, reads a confession:

Maybe I couldn't stop myself from falling because it felt like flying with you.

You shake your head, sigh reading 'I told you not to do that'. Still, you feel a tug at your chest, a link between the two of you in the sense that you seem to be moving in synchrony with these words — Park Jisung is your last love, you swear. You shift your eyes, tired of the same chain all over again, flipping the note to read the words behind them. 

When you find the right love at the wrong time, what will you do to make it work? 

You sigh to yourself as you read the question, tracing the pristine paper with your pen, and finally, finally you smile;

Let it go. Set it free, because the greatest love of all is the one that lets you grow.

You tilt your head up, holding back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. 

────── ❁ ──────

Zhong Chenle invades your life like a hurricane of mixed emotions, a little like three months just in time when you finally decided you've had enough heartbreaks. You meet him from one of your friends, Qian Kun, and literally had to stop and wonder how in the world he managed to find this thing — you can't help it, alright? Chenle just stood silent and proud, clad in leather and rumors and reputations and reeking of expensive. He comes in the scene like thoughts as turbulent as unwanted flashbacks and as easily as finding trouble looking for the right answer when you're in a rush.

Quickly as he entered your life, he became a friend; you're too familiar with this scene, but you've had enough. You can't take any more. You've spent most of your life haunted by sugar smiles and breathy laughs and in exchange, had yourself break everything you wanted to keep intact. It doesn't matter that he's not at all what he's perceived to be, it doesn't matter that he makes your breath hitch. You don't even care what you're going against with, if it's fate or heavenly beings or the world — no more. You can't anymore.

The world is the ocean and the ocean is a God — people are mere sailors who think they're stronger than the tides, but they're not; once the waters have made their decision to kill you, there's no reason you should fear the phenomenons trying to do you harm. It seems like it's made that plan, that thing you hoped so much you wouldn't do. Chenle knows so he smiles at you brightly, "Don't you dare run away from what you're feeling."

"Else what, you gonna run after me?" You bite back just for the sake of it, laughter bubbling from your throat, "Gonna go chase me down?"

He shrugs, taking a challenge and a risk, "You better not regret."

"Absolutely fucking not." Kun hisses after you've told him what happened, months after you've started dating and you're tired of hiding it already. Your friends already tease you about getting together, anyway, so why should you even hide? Apparently, this. The profanities leaving his mouth should worry you, really, but it doesn't; not as much as his disagreement. Still, you couldn't even bother to ask him why because you see it in his eyes — you know him that much, you're familiar with that look — "You're not in love with Chenle, please, we both know this."

"I am in love with him!" You say, hurt. The look in his eyes softens, but the pain of his word doesn't, neither does his determination, "Kun, please. I didn't tell you just so you could lecture me, I told you because you're my friend! I do love him!"

"Are you, really? In love with him, you say? Completely?" Your eyes shift to the side after his statement, the lack of sarcasm and warmth in his tone both bothering you. You want to cry. When you look at Kun, you find he feels just as much. "You're not in love with him in the way he deserves."

There's a dry chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your bag, standing up with a tear slowly rolling down in your cheek. More than devastation, there's a certain withering look in your eyes. Kun tries to apologize, but you're already moving away from him. The betrayal in your voice is impossible to ignore and forget, "How dare you make accusations about how I'm feeling?"

Falling in love with Chenle wasn't in the plan; in fact, you hardly even had any plans to begin with. As another fact, the only plan was to not fall in love with anyone anymore. Plans are ever-changing things, you'd always counter, they depend on the situation. When Chenle came in your life, you figure there happened to be another shift — something significant had changed, a good change.

Maybe it is why you didn't even take Kun seriously. You've always hoped that all those lows would lead to this point, the part where there's content spreading on your chest, a feeling just as bright as the luminescent blanket of embedded diamonds and rubies, a sky full of stars. By your side, the boy looks at you with eyes shining just as much; Zhong Chenle, badly misunderstood, so truly loved. You couldn't help but pull him in a kiss — giggly and messy, chaste and ever so delicate. 

You think you could spend lifetimes just staring at him. You swore on it, really, to not be in love with him. More than anybody else, you hoped to fate that you'll never fall in love again. It's just that this person — Zhong Chenle, he has a tendency to be very addicting, and oh, how easily addicted you are. His kiss a lovely burn against your lips, his words a heavenly whisper to your ear, his existence a delightful surprise. You find it inevitable to fall because of the many similar nights before this, just weeks after you two met. Those days where you two were laughing way too hard for midnight and your heart blossomed with happiness it hasn't felt for long. It's the sweetest kind of doom.

It's doom, nonetheless. 

"With whom was your first relationship with?" Chenle suddenly asks, no hint of jealousy in his eyes, but there is, aside from pure curiosity, something else — lost, baffled, seeking an explanation for something he doesn't even think he should know. "I mean, you're mine. You're my first love, but I know I'm not yours, and I'm curious. "

"You don't even know him, Lele." You laugh, trying to hide your hesitation. The boy insists, says that he just needs a name. You roll your eyes affectionately, "Huang Renjun. He's a great guy, but timing kinda messed up."

Chenle hums appreciatively, but he stops trying to find constellations and making up shapes of his own; instead, he dives in a pool thoughts deeper than the dark. He thinks of what he doesn't know if he believes in, but he keeps his eyes up at the stars and hopes to God that his life wasn't such a movie; he stays quiet.

"Who's Jaemin, then?" The question comes, harmless but shocking nonetheless. Chenle breaks his stare from the dull-starred sky and looks at you with a smile brighter than daylight. His question makes your gut twist. "Jaemin who danced with you under the rain... Jaemin who made your day with corny jokes, with late-night talks, with coffee, with notes."

You don't reply, so he ponders some more. He thinks about walking the streets holding hands, he thinks of cheek kisses. He thinks of waking up tomorrow and doing all of that with you. He looks forward to a couple of years — maybe you'll move in together, maybe you'll share a place and clothes and everything. He thinks of counting down the memories, having lived most of his life satisfied. Chenle thinks of doing it all with you; someone who takes tragedies and turns them into masterpieces. Someone who sings sad songs with a saccharine smile.

"Jaemin with a reputation, known for all the wrong reasons..." his eyes cast down, dull and slowly piecing everything together, "Just like me."

He thinks of a vow, a promise — to the stars, till dawn do us part. He thinks of how near the sun is from rising, and he thinks of silhouette, of being hidden behind one. You don't answer until then, so he just takes it as your reply.

"You don't have to. I already know," he smiles, fingers entwining with yours. "Maybe I just hoped that I didn't have to find out from Kun."

Chenle is innocent, kind of naive. He wears his heart on his sleeves and gifts its pieces to anyone who dares to get to know him. He loves a lot — his friends, his family, stars. A person who grieves the loss of midnight too, when the stars start to fade; you. Because of that, he could forgive anything you did and would do.

It's one of his many ways of love, you see, this thing you have going on. Chenle's just like that — you never know just how much more he can give before he runs out; there's just so much of him and it's difficult to put it into words. He's shown you how he treasures relationships, how he adores everything around him in each and every time a different way and kind. He's shown you so much, all the ways he displays his affection with, this little magic trick. That's not all of it, though, and a little part of you sinks because of the fact that a lifetime will not be sufficient enough for you to know just what this love is, completely, because every passing moment, the boy falls for something; each fondness different from the lasts.

Chenle just loves like that; so much that he doesn't mind being loved for carrying pieces of another person — being adored simply because he made you remember what you didn't want to forget. He thinks, if he doesn't think it matters, it wouldn't; he prays that if he doesn't bring it up, you'd forget. He's loved you for so long but you know so little of his kind of love; ever so pure and limitless, impossible to define and dictate. 

When he holds your hands, though, you feel like it's enough — it's enough to have known slightly more than what you think you should.

"You give too much," are the only words that you were able to form. He looks at you as if to ask if you think so, and you feel the time stop for a bit when he leans his head on your shoulders, his dark locks tickling your skin. You laugh, humorless and sentimental, "Isn't it about time you'd learn to love within limits?"

"You're brilliant, you know?" He mumbles, albeit sleepily. "Kind of infinite. There are no restrictions in the love you deserve."

Something about brilliant just hits so different from beautiful — something so damning and sweet and you feel it again; just how much love you have in you, how much of it you are willing to give. Maybe boundaries really aren't your thing, maybe its the reason why you let Chenle adore you beyond what you know you can take, why you allowed him to give more than he should've given. Maybe it's why you poured affection after affection without conditions — maybe that's why you were selfish enough to love shadows. Maybe it's as most people say — you tend to burn too bright, to share too much of yourself, and not everybody can handle that. You're a bit too much for others. Maybe it's why you find yourself sitting down, pen roughly scribbling on paper.

Somewhere, there's a soul aching for your love... but no matter how much we try, we know it's not here, with me.

────── ❁ ──────

Kun doesn't knock at your door until a few weeks later, and whether it was him giving you space or him not being able to leave Chenle alone, you think of it as a blessing in disguise. It wasn't even after a week or two that you found it in you to get your life together — fake it till you make it, clean up your home, clean up your mess. You greet him with a smile on your face, tears prickling your eyes, "Come in."

Kun doesn't even say anything, he just puts the snacks he bought somewhere and crashes the sofa. He turns off the television, eyes the clearly was-messy place, and huffs at you, "It's just me. You don't have to play cool with me when you're feeling so broken."

"You're acting so much like Kim Dongyoung." You whisper just enough that he could hear before making your way to him and sobbing in his arms. Kun lets you stay like that, his hands threading your hair and affectionately patting your back, a soft 'I told you you're not ready yet' that's less scolding than it is loving. You stop crying then, just miserable sobs and sniffles, and he stands up to get you a cup of water. You look at him.

 "Thank you, Kun."

Suddenly, his not amused expression is back. He moves away a little, placing a strict space in between the two of you, and then directly looks into your eyes, "Were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Were you ever gonna tell me, or was I just supposed to learn about it after you've left?"'

"Kun," you breathe deeply, "I need to."

"For who?" He asks, hoping that amongst the reasons read your name. Are you finally choosing yourself? Is it still because of other people? He wants to ask, but his voice keeps failing him and all he can whisper is words about how he's proud of you, how much you've endured, how badly he wishes to ease the pain. Kun doesn't look at you with disappointment, with hurt; he looks at you with pure utter understanding, and you find it in you, a reason to smile.

────── ❁ ──────

You can't help but reminisce things as you walk from your home to the train station, neither can you when you asked the person in charge for which train will get you out of the place the quickest. You didn't really have plans, you never did, and perhaps that's where everything starts to go wrong; you just forget things, or at least, you try to suppress them. You never tried to solve anything.

This town knew too much — there are memories of Renjun on the trail from here to the benches, flashes of Donghyuck's sly grin meeting your gaze in the reflection of the glass whenever you look at the vending machines. You feel like you've walked every street in here, hand in hand with Mark, like you've danced under all these blinking lights with Jisung, like you've been to everywhere with Chenle. There is so much to remember, and this place can't hold them all and it breaks your heart so much, knowing that many things are meant to be memories, but not all memories should be remembered. You close your eyes in silent hopes that no matter how painful, you never forget one second.

It was impossible, surely, but you think that the thought of being able to recall them completely will be enough to keep you company. Even until now, you don't really want to be alone — some people are just not meant to be by themselves, and sometimes those people aren't really good at settling down either — being one of them, you leap from one crumbling bridge to another, hoping to never feel the pain of a great fall. There was never an end where you didn't. 

Waiting for the train to board, you look back to a certain place in time. The one where you think everything began.

Your first love is something you remember vividly. It came in the form of childhood crushes, wildflowers, and ruined playgrounds. It's a coincidental meeting; you were running away from your house, tired of the yelling and the crashing and the constant fear in your little heart, while he was sneaking away from his house to play more because he's a 'rebel'. Your first heartbreak takes some years forward, years just a little far from now even if it feels like it's been forever standing here, waiting for an uncertain return.

Until now, you think that it was that night under a rusty slide and above dry leaves when your life started to change.

You meet again with Na Jaemin just minutes before your train arrives, a brief eye-contact and a skip of heart and it doesn't take so much for you to know; those eyes, that smile, the red string sitting too tightly on his wrist. You remember what promise that meant — you know that, right? The thing they say about red strings, how they connect people? — and what childish hope that strand held — if we wear this, we would always find our way to each other, because we have a red string connecting us now! You remember, you do, really — of course, you do; how you could you ever forget him? Surely, maybe he's grown a lot, and everything about him has changed, he even dyed his soft hair blue. You're certain, though, you knew that it's him — maybe the red string worked. Maybe it's the butterfly effect and the heartbreaks your heart and several others nursed. Maybe it's the look in his eyes that remained soft and sweet and honest.

You miss your train, but you can't help but feel like you're just in time.

"Jae—" you choke, eyes wide and shocked, "Jaemin!"

────── ❁ ──────

Na Jaemin meets you again on a busy train station, three years ago after he just came back in town for a visit. He remembers the punch in his gut at the sight of your face, the red string delicately wrapped on your wrist, far too small but still so beautiful. He remembers the sullen look on your face, the realization dawning on him that you're late for your class and he chuckles; you never really made it in time for school, even as a child. The rain pours and he has to fiddle his bag for his umbrella, opens it so that he could let you in. When he takes a step closer though, you were talking to another boy, and Jaemin thinks he's the one a little late.

He comes across you a lot of times next to that, too, but never when you're alone. He thinks, his timing is a mildly off as well. Every time he tries to come and talk to you — when you were sitting alone in the middle of a busy restaurant, inside the coffee shop, in front of his niece's kindergarten — there was always somebody else. It reminds him of back then, one of your conflicts as you started to grow up and apart; the many times you needed each other and the other person is too caught up needing someone else. Jaemin thinks that the beat you both are dancing to is a little too delayed.

Jaemin remembers meeting a boy just as blue as him, a face a little familiar, smiling longingly at the two dancing under the moon. He remembers eyes as regretful as his, he remembers a smile, "They look so happy, don't they?"

None of that matters, though, not when he's pulling you into a hug and dragging you to a rooftop, not when you're several floors off the ground and beside you is Na Jaemin, sitting side by side, with eyes that take you back to the past and makes you hope for an unbroken present.

When you two stand under the bright sky and you stare at him instead of gushing about flying, Jaemin realizes just how drastically different this present is. If the look in your eyes says anything, he's certain that you feel the same.

You have just always been waiting for this moment, you know? And you missed your train, but you were just in time to meet Jaemin, and the rush of affection cleared all the lines you had to cross and everything was light and filled with teary laughter before right now. You've had it planned, the both of you, multiple scenarios where you two could meet again — none of them are this way. It's awkward and tense and the other feels so far away; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Jaemin could leave. He should leave, he figures, thinking that it's always been what he's best at. It's not working, anyway; maybe it was him being gone and you going through so much, maybe it's life knocking some sense in the both of you, but none of that matters — it's not working. It's just like this, relationships — two people could start at the same point and still go separate ways. It's not meant to be. He could leave, forget, maybe he'd find enough courage that he marks this chapter closed and finally, finally stop thinking of childhood feelings and even the grown-up ones. He could find a new beginning in this chapter closed.

That's the way it goes, anyway, right? Some ends feel like new starting points. Jaemin could drop it here. He could make it easier for himself, he'd be able to say this isn't working and he'd be back to his normal self; the one that looks at you and looks for you in a way that he did before falling in love. He could be young and free, away from untold reasons and unsaid apologies and undelivered feelings. He could make it easier for himself.

But to hell with ease, he didn’t want to.

"Remember, back then, we would always sneak out to play in the rain?" Jaemin is the first to break the silence, "And we look at flowers... you used to cry at everything back then!"

You flick his arm at that, and he sits on the floor next to the railing because he couldn't hold himself up anymore, laughing. Even until now, this still feels like a very vivid dream. You spend the night trying to believe that this is reality — Jaemin does the same.

Fate has a tendency to bring people apart and put them back together again, so you can't really help it that Jaemin was months and weeks away from leaving the town again. There was a point where you cursed time — you just found him, and now, why is he being taken away from you? There was a time where Jaemin thought you weren't meant to be — if you are, then why do you keep on being forced apart?

He thinks he really should stop thinking this way. It's just something really odd, this love stuff, because it's never really just one thing but rather a couple of many nothings to make up an entirely different, supposedly magical occurrence. Love is never just love — it's oftentimes euphoria with even the slightest glimpse of devastation. Jaemin doesn't think he understands why the both of you try so hard to make it easy — no matter how difficult, he knows it's worth it, knows that he'll fight for it.

Jaemin spends his last day in this place smiling, cupping your cheeks as he stands in the middle of a busy train station yet again, this time, with you in his reach. The skies are dark but his smile is bright, and it burns brighter when you flush after asking him why he's staring at you so hard. The boy cooes, "Perfect should try to be you."

"If perfect was me, perfect would be a mess," you quickly counter even through you being too flustered. In your absolute anxiety, you think that everyone is looking and judging you. With the way Jaemin is staring at you, you don't think you'd mind even if they whisper things so mean.

"A lovable mess," he raspily whispers, sincerity in his gaze and honesty in his words. Jaemin smiles, "I can't make this up. I fall for you several times a day, repeatedly."

Jaemin lets go of your face and dips in to kiss your forehead, and then he giddily messes your hair. You can't even bring it in you to get mad — you have several minutes and you have so much to say and the time is too little, your words are so limited. Jaemin asks for your hands and leaves a red string, identical to the ones you gave each other as children but bigger and adorned with the tiniest butterfly charm. You look at him, confused, "What's this?"

"A farewell gift, and something I'll definitely come back for," he flicks your forehead as if to say it's so obvious, and you can't help but feel like time is running out all over again. You breathe, unsteady and ragged, a desperate call of his name, "Na Jaemin?"

He doesn't answer, but he wipes the tears streaming down your face and he hums.

"I'm so happy that the ending is me and you." You finally confess, taking him aback. You smile, sweet and cruelly beautiful, brutally emotional, and if there were no children around and Jaemin was a tad bit more shameless, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He couldn't, though, so he just gapes and stares and listens.

"I'm so happy that it's back to you."

As the train boards, you find yourself realizing how tough the world gets — the lovely, sinking feeling lingering in your chest as you recall the highs and the lows of life and fate.

You've had far too many great loves in your life, so much that using the term would probably not sound special anymore to other people — but they're different, each one of them, the way they loved distinct at least — and this one, just this one, Na Jaemin, by far, is the greatest.

The end is sweet and lovely, if a bit sour and bitter. The end is where you hopefully find yourself.

────── ❁ ──────

"Mom and dad keeps on fighting. " your nephew murmurs under his breath, one sunny Friday spent walking on streets that are cooling down, on the way to what must be the happiest place on Earth for a kid. "Do you think they don't love each other anymore?"

You nervously scratch your nape, thinking of easy ways to reply to the question. You think of your childhood, how you spent most of it dreaming of love. How until today, the thought of it still haunts you. You just shrug, "People just have some bad days, but look, they're still together, right?" he nods, and you feel a blossom of proudness in your chest, "They love each other, and that's why they had you."

The kid suddenly frowns, "Why do people get together, then?"

You halt your steps before continuing, on the verge of asking why he asked that question before you realize that it's your nephew, anyway. He loves holding mature conversations even if he doesn't understand anything, he likes asking away and being taken seriously, like an adult. You chuckle, "Uhm, because people make each other happy!"

"Why don't you have someone, then?" You don't know how to answer his question, and neither did you expect it. He looks too interested to be brushed off. "You said people make other people happy!"

"Hm, well, I do have someone," you think of sugar smiles and giggly kisses as you say those words. There's a comforted exhale leaving your lips as you look down on the kid, "But, he's not the only reason I'm happy... I'm happy with myself, without him."

"Do you not love him, then? Because you're happy without him?"

"I love him, I do, a lot! We went through a lot to find each other again," you smile kindly, patient. "But it's a different kind of love, just like how it is a different kind of happy with him."

His lips jut out, wondering about things not so completely disconnected from his first questions. He then sighs as if he's carrying the weight of the world, "If you had to find each other again, it means one of you left. Why did one of you leave if you love each other, then?"

Why?

"Well, you see, maybe..." there's no answer pouring from your lips, but emotions threaten to spill from your eyes and then down your cheeks. The child won't understand your tears, though, so you think of familiar faces and the one you entwined your fingers with, like home. You keep your head held high. "Maybe it's so that we could find each other again in a time where we would be better versions of ourselves."

It's not enough to sate his curious mind. "But if he's almost always never here, how are you supposed to know if he's the love you're supposed to have, then?"

"The love I'm meant to find has always been here, within me," you say genuinely, and the child, ever so confused but curious, remains silent to understand. You shake your head a bit, "but with him, this love grows bigger and bigger, and it helps us cross any kind of distance between us."

Finally satisfied, he stops asking questions at the sight of his most favorite place, muttering incomprehensible gibberish as he tugs you closer to the entrance. Then you think of how happy you are to be standing under this sky, above this ground — you think of the butterfly effect, all the little moments and major events, and everything that passed and will forever remain remembered. You think of all that lead you to this.

You look at the reflection of yourself from the glass walls of the candy shop, and you couldn't help a smile. The look in your eyes screams dreamy as you push open the door. This is it — you're on the way to loving yourself. 

Welcome home.

[kindofwriter]

Can I offer you some: ‘Ep 25, The Gang Meets Wilde’

Pt. 2

I guess I swung wildly between ‘brandy’ and ‘whiskey’ when writing this and didn’t notice, oof.

Transcript under the cut:

HAMID: I don't, I, I don't think so... Um, hello?

HAMID presses his finger tips to the door, swinging it gently inwards but not fully opening it. SASHA instantly flattens herself against the wall, drawing a dagger and clutching it to her chest.

VOICE (O.S.): Oh, hello?

VOICE (O.S.): Oh, hello?

VOICE (O.S.): Oh, hello?

VOICE (O.S.): Oh, hello?

BERTIE: Oh! Hello!

SASHA and ZOLF both give BERTIE a glare. HAMID reaches out to push the door further, but stops before he does.

VOICE (LANGUISHLY): Oh, hello!

BERTIE (OVERLAPPING): Hello!

HAMID (OVERLAPPING): Hello?

VOICE (O.S.) (OVERLAPPING): Hello!

BERTIE: Hello! Hello!

ZOLF elbows BERTIE in the waist.

ZOLF: Who on Earth are ya?

VOICE (O.S.): I could ask you the same question, I suppose!

HAMID steps into the apartment, pushing the door wide open as he does so. ZOLF and BERTIE step in behind him.

OSCAR WILDE is lounging by the hearth, looking only slightly uncomfortable in a halfling-sized chair. He's human, average height and average build, with plump, youthful features. His hair falls the nape of his neck in glossy, brown waves that shimmer every time he turns his head; he's clearly wearing an illusion.

WILDE is dressed in a manner that's almost garish: peacock patterned waistcoat, scarlet, French-style suit, red shoes, and yellow socks, but between his good-looks and his charisma he completely pulls it off. In one hand he holds a glass of HAMID's whiskey, and in the other a note pad.

WILDE: So sorry I, uh, got here a little early, thought I'd just wait it out.

WILDE smiles winningly at the party. BERTIE reaches up to lift the grate of his armour. HAMID looks confused. ZOLF frowns, then grabs hold of his symbol. A low sound, part way between a hum and a growl, emits from his throat, reminiscent of wind battering across the top of a lake. For just a moment his eyes glow, then WILDE's notebook bursts into flames.

WILDE: Ooh, ah!

WILDE drops the pad, shaking his hand. It's burnt to a crisp before it hits the ground. Looking at its smoldering remains, a faint smile twitches at WILDE's lips.

WILDE: Fantastic, that'd be you... Zolf? Yes?

ZOLF (PLAYING DUMB AS A ROCK): Who, sorry?

WILDE (SMIRKING): Hmm.

CUT TO SASHASASHA is still pressed against the wall, head turned to the side so she can listen in. Her face is stony, but she looks poised for a fight.

CUT BACK TO INT.

WILDE: So, that must be Zolf.

ZOLF scowls and looks away from WILDE.

WILDE: And Hamid, and Sir Bertrand, yes.

BERTIE: Hello.

BERTIE steps forward, obscuring WILDE's view of everyone else. Between his height and his breadth he towers over WILDE, who immediately starts to look a little flushed.

WILDE (ALMOST COY): Hello.

WILDE looks BERTIE up and down in a meaningful fashion. He then glances away for a moment to meet ZOLF's eye, just to make sure he's catching what WILDE is doing. BERTIE looks a little affronted at the loss of attention.

BERTIE: Mm.

WILDE turns and begins to pour another glass of whiskey from HAMID's decanter, then offers it to BERTIE.

HAMID: Um, who might you be?

WILDE (WITHOUT BREAKING EYE CONTACT WITH BERTIE): Wilde. Good to meet you.

BERTIE: Pleasure.

BERTIE takes the drink.

ZOLF: Is there a compelling reason why, um, I shouldn't shove this trident up your bum?

Now WILDE does turn away from BERTIE, looking right at ZOLF. It's difficult to tell whether he's red with annoyance, heat, or still recovering from his intense eye contact with BERTIE.

WILDE: Oh, that's not very- You wouldn't want that getting out, would you now? Honestly!

BERTIE (CLEARLY TRYING TO WIN WILDE'S ATTENTION BACK): Well, you haven't been formally introduced, which I think is part of the reason.

ZOLF (MUTTERING): Well, also, you'd be dead, so it wouldn't be going anywhere.

BERTIE has clearly failed to hold WILDE's attention, as he watches ZOLF with a quirked eyebrow. There's no hint of the 'bedroom eyes' he'd tried on with BERTIE, but there's definitely some kind of passion in that gaze. However it seems, more than anything, like the passion to argue.

HAMID: You, you, you appear to be in my apartment uninvited.

WILDE: I do apologise.

WILDE actually looks at HAMID for the first time.

WILDE: I was just hoping to get hold of you, and, well, I thought this was the best place. I mean, you have been staying here most nights, haven't you?

HAMID: Yes.

WILDE: Well, there we go then, I, uh, I thought you might enjoy the company.

WILDE once again makes eyes at BERTIE.

HAMID: Next, next time it might be nice of you to wait for an invitation.

WILDE: I, I do apologise, I, I did knock!

HAMID sighs deeply.

HAMID: Not quite the same thing, is it?

WILDE (EVASIVELY): I suppose not. So! This is all very exciting; I'm noticing you're all looking a little worse for wear-

HAMID smooths a hand over his waistcoat.

HAMID: I, uh, I would dispute that, thank you.

WILDE: Well, let me re-phrase: not all of you. I'm, I'm noticing, um-

WILDE glances at ZOLF, who seems to be the only one in the room not trying to capture his attention.

ZOLF (GRUMPILY): No, I always look like this.

WILDE: One of, one of your party's missing?

ZOLF (PLAYING DUMBER THAN A ROCK): Who? Nope.

WILDE: Oh, I'm fairly certain that the girl-

ZOLF (INTERRUPTING): No, nope, who? What?

WILDE: The girl is. Hmm, yes. Quite. So, where have you been? How was today? I'm quite fascinated, actually.

HAMID (FIRMLY): Why don't you tell us why it is you're here?

WILDE: Well, I just thought it might be a good idea for you to sit down and, y'know, really, really share, y'know? Really explain things by yourselves, because people want to know. You know?

WILDE gives HAMID a very smug look.

HAMID: Are you a reporter of some kind?

WILDE: Mm, yeah, of a, of a kind. I, I, I sell my stories to whoever's interested, really. And a lot of people are very interested-

WILDE turns away from HAMID and begins to pour more glasses of whiskey. HAMID seems unfazed by this.

WILDE: I just, a lot of people are very interested-

BERTIE: Well, you know-

BERTIE shoves his glass between the decanter and the glass WILDE was filling, effectively giving himself a top-up.

BERTIE: I, I have been looking- I very much have an opening for a biographer.

BERTIE raises an eyebrow at WILDE, still leant across him from filling his glass. WILDE smirks.

WILDE: Well, we would have to closet ourselves away for a significant amount of time to really go over, go over the details. The nitty gritty, as it were.

Behind them, ZOLF scowls, clearly picking up on their queer-coded language, but immediately looking down on anyone who would willingly flirt with BERTIE. HAMID shuffles his feet, waiting innocently for the pair to finish talking.

BERTIE: I, I assure you, I have some extremely fine details to share with the appropriate young scholar.

WILDE turns, two new glasses of whiskey balanced in one hand.

WILDE (WITH A CHUCKLE): Presumably you mean of quality, not diminutive.

BERTIE joins in with his chuckle, but it quickly becomes mean, eventually devolving into a deep growl. Suddenly looking a little uncomfortable, WILDE moves away from BERTIE and offers a glass of whiskey to ZOLF. His face is soft; clearly he's looking for a little sympathy.

ZOLF refuses to take the whiskey, and scowls again at WILDE.

HAMID takes the glass offered to him, so WILDE drains ZOLF's.

BERTIE: My details are distinguished by their quality and their quantity.

WILDE (LESS SURE, BUT STILL PLAYING HIS PART): Indeed, I mean, that, that's a lot of the reason that I'm here. I've been hearing so much interesting- I mean, your deeds with Other London? And especially, I mean- Did you, did you manage to catch whoever it was with the antiques store?

CUT TO SASHA IN THE HALLWAY

SAHSA grimaces; tightens her grip on the dagger.

CUT BACK

WILDE: I heard that was, heard that was a bit of a problem, no?

An awkward silence hangs over the room for a moment as ZOLF and HAMID give WILDE a look that tells him that was in poor taste. BERTIE enjoys his whiskey.

HAMID: Uh, l-look, Mister Wilde, I don't-

WILDE: Sorry that was, that was, that was rude of me. Clearly I was treading on  a nerve. I'm so sorry.

BERTIE raises an eyebrow, seemingly losing some respect for WILDE as he apologises.

HAMID: I don't, I don't mind telling you about, uh, what we've been up to. As I'm sure you've seen in the press and will see again soon, we are not averse to sharing our story. But I really must insist that you tell me what it is you do, and why it is you are here specifically.

WILDE (JUMPING IN): It is so generous of you to donate so much to the natural history museum, as well-

Suddenly WILDE is knocked off his feet, backwards into HAMID's chair, dropping his glass as he does so. SASHA looms over him, the tip of a dagger pressed lightly to his throat. WILDE is surprised, but not afraid.

SASHA: What do you know about the antique store?

WILDE smiles, just slightly.

WILDE: Well, I was hoping you'd be able to tell me, all I know is that you were there.

SASHA (UPSET, BUT IN HER OWN WAY): What, what do you know?

BERTIE steps forward, placing a hand on SASHA's shoulder.

BERTIE: Now, now, Sasha. If there's any blade to be held to this young man's throat I feel it should be mine-

SASHA shrugs BERTIE off with such force he actually has to remove his hand.

SASHA (CLEARLY AGITATED): He, he knows something about what happened to Gusset. He, he knows who trashed Gusset's store!

WILDE (WRIGGLING BENEATH THE DAGGER): No, no, that's not what I said.

SASHA: Oh, really? So, you know-

WILDE: I was curious-

SASHA: So how did you know about that? Because we didn't go to the press about that.

SASHA pressed slightly with the dagger. WILDE leans further into the chair to avoid getting nicked.

WILDE: Well, y'know, some people are observant, and some people, y'know- I mean, where do the press find these things out?

SASHA: Well, but- Usually, Hamid tells them!

For just a moment SASHA alleviates some pressure from WILDE, and it seems as if she might wheel around to threaten HAMID. Then she looks down at WILDE and re-applies the pressure; she trusts HAMID.

WILDE: Well, usually doesn't always cut it-

SASHA: That's how journalism works!

WILDE takes a moment to allow his eyes to drift back to BERTIE.

WILDE: Some deeds will just speak of their own accord.

SASHA: Oi! 

SASHA begins to press the tip of the blade to WILDE's throat. Once ZOLF realises what she's doing he steps forward slightly, poised to pull her off.

SASHA: What do you know about who trashed Gusset's store?

WILDE: I don't know what to say. I know that you went in there, and you, uh, had a bit of a conversation. It looked very amicable, and then you headed on your way.

WILDE catches sight of ZOLF, stood behind SASHA with an arm outstretched. He visibly relaxes, allowing a huge grin to spread across his face.

[silverisbestboy]

Sonic Boom x Reader

Requested by @blackace1993: Conversation was accidentally deleted but from what I remeber of it, they wanted hc for the Sonic Boom characters who has a partner who frequently gets into trouble and/or captured by Eggman. They didn't specify which character they wanted so I just did all of them minus Tails. Hope you enjoy!

Sonic:

There's no denying it

Sonic was smitten

The moment you set foot on the island Sonic was taken aback by you

To him, you were drop dead gorgeous with a great personality so I guess you could say it was love at first sight for him

This boy is a fool for you

It's actually quite funny watching him zip across the island at the slightest remark that you need something

"Man, you what? I'm feeling kind of hungry"

"Say no more!" He'll say as he zooms away and reappears seconds later with a chili dog in hand

"Uhhhh"

But, unfortunately for you, being in any sort of relationship with Sonic is not wothout complication

Eggman sees you as a new oppurtunity to best Sonic and ends up taking you hostage on a regular basis

The first time it happens, Sonic all but destroys Eggman's fortress looking for you

But after it continuously happening, it starts getting kinda old

"Greeting Sonic! I see you've come to rescue your little girlfriend"

"Yeah, yeah. Can we just we just get to the part where I clobber you?"

It gets to the point where Sonic starts teaching you how to defend yourself so you can hold your own against Eggman

Not that he doesn't mind rescuing, it's just he can't always be there to protect

With the amount of times they've had to save you, the team are already very familiar with you and consider you apart of their friend group

But as you get better is self-defence, Sonic officially announces you as part of the team and you start joining them on missions

While Sonic does tend to stick to your side more than his other teammates during battle, he's glad to have you fighting alongside them

After all, he's happy to spend as much time with you as possible, even if that means having to bash Eggman's robots to do so

Knuckles:

You're not a bad person

So what if you have anger issues

So what if you get into fights from time to time

So what if you've been in trouble with the cops before

Doesn't mean you're a bad person, it just means you've.... got some issues

One day you're not in the best mood and have already had a pretty shitty day, and you're just a ticking time bomb waiting to explode

So it's no wonder that when a big guy bumps into you and causes you to drop the tray of food you're holding, you go off on him

Unfortunately for you, this guy is huge, a tall red echidna with bulking arms that looks like he could punch you into next week

But you're not one to back down from a fight, you've beaten up guys twice your size before and you're not afraid to do it again

"Woah, hey, sorry about that, didn't see you there."

What, is he dense?! Who does this guy think he is barrelling into anyone he pleases just because he's big? You bet he was just gonna walk off without even helping you. Well, you'd show him!

Without warning, you lunged at the echidna with the intent of knocking him over the same way he almost did to you

But you underestimated his initial strength and reflexes and he caught you midair with your legs kicking and your hands clawing for his face

"Woah, dude chill! I said I was sorry!"

He just kinda holds you up in air at arms length with you kicking and screaming until you eventually tire yourself out

The echidna stares at you cautiously

"Are you good now?"

After a moment, you reluctantly nod, and he gently sets you back on your feet

He then carefully leans down without takong his eyes off you and grabs your burger which is still wrapped in foil and reaches it out to you

"How about we start over? I'm Knuckles."

You thought after that encounter, that was the last you'd see of him

But one day, you've gotten yourself into another fight, and to say you're losing would be an understatement

It's once again, a guy twice your size and he's absolutely beating the crap out of you

But by some miracle, Knuckles happens to be walking by and immediately notices you

He steps in to save you, and the guy you're fighting knows about Knuckles being part of Sonic's team and doesn't even bother attempting to fight him

Knuckles takes your half conscious body to Tails's work shop where they fix you up

After that, Knuckles refuses to leave you alone

Even if you try to leave, he always ends finding you to make sure you don't get into more trouble

He helps you find outlets for your anger by sparring and working out with him

You grow a soft spot for Knuckles that you'd never thought you'd have for anyone

He's your big goofball that somehow always manages to calm you down and get you out of whatever trouble your in

Though it's beyond you why anyone would want to put up with you, eespecially a lovable ray of sunshine like Knuckles, you're so grateful that you have someone like himin your life to keep you in check

A/N: Might make more hcs for that because I absolutely love the idea of big, strong goofball Knuckles having a little ball of pure rage as a partner.

Amy Rose:

Some would say you're a pacifist

Some would say you care too much

Some would say you're too nice

But you like to think that you're just trying to do good in the world

You're definitely the type of person that hates conflict and wants everyone to get along, and you're more often than not a bit of a pushover

You like to give people benefit of the doubt and prefer to see the good in people, although sometimes, this affects you negatively

A kindly looking (or at least in your opinion) wolf with a showman's top hat and a certain glint his eyes one day stops you in your tracks and asks you ever so politely if you would kindly lend him some money to help feed his family

Of course, you're quick to help, but little do you know that this is none other than T.W. Barker himself, and he's been watching you carefully for some time

He notices the way you jump at the oppurtunity to help someone in need, and he being a con man at heart, decides to take advantage of that

But before you can lend the man all the money you have in your pocket, a certain pink hedgehog decides to interfere

"Hey, you leave her alone Barker! Go find your own ATM machine!"

Amy Rose herself stands not far behind you, hammer in hand and ready for trouble

"N-now, now, let's not be too hasty. I was simply accepting a generous donation from this unsuspecting-- I mean self-less young lady."

"Yeah right. Beat it before I hammer you into next Tuesday, punk!"

You're in utter shock as the seeming wolf in sheep's clothing (pun intended) makes his escape

"Gotta look out for scumbags. Seems this village is getting more and more of them everyday. Anyways, I'm Amy, what's your name?"

Since then, Amy keeps a close eye on you to make sure you don't become prey to anymore scam artists

Now Amy will never admit she has anger issues, but she does get... irritated from time to time

On more than one occasion, you're there to help her calm down and have a sleepover planned or a spa day for when things get particularly rough for her

Whenever she needs help choosing which paint to redo her wall with, or which dress she should wear to a party, she calls you up, because no matter what you're interests are or how inconvenient the timing might seem, you're ready to help a friend, even with mundane things

Amy has you become a part of the Sonic family, and while you never do join them in battles, you help keep the peace between the team whenever there's an argument

And Amy always makes sure your overly caring attitude isn't being taken advantage of

No matter the time or the place, Amy knows she can always count on you, and you know she's always got your back

Sticks:

Well this is quite the predicament you've gotten yourself into

A lot of people would descibe you as clumsy, but you knew you just bad luck

And to prove just that, here you were dangling upside from a rope trap after deciding to take a liesure stroll through the forest

What are we, nomads? Who sets out traps in the middle of the woods anymore?!

After about 20 minutes, the blood is rushing to your head and you're starting to feel faint

But just as you think that your bad luck will finally be the end of you, figure bursts from the bushes with a fierce battle cry

It's a badger girl with a boomerang clutched in her paw, ready for a fight

But after a moment she realizes just who's gotten caught up in her trap

"Hey, what's the big idea?! Why're you in my snare?"

"Why am I in your snare? Why did you put out a snare you loon?!"

After about 5 minutes of arguing, Sticks reluctantly cuts you down, begrudgingly explaining that she set out a trap for any woodland monsters

You run into her again on another walk, crossing a small stream before tripping on one of the stepping stones and almost falling in before a furry arm wraps around your waist

"You outta be more careful out here. The wilderness is no place to be a klutz."

"Hey, I'm not a klutz. I just have bad luck is all."

And what more to gain the attention of a superstitious badger than the possibility of supernatural forces at play

"You could've been hexed by a witch. Or worse, there could be a vengeful spirit after you! We gotta get you an exorcist!"

"I'm fine, I'm just unlucky. Always have been always will be."

"We should still burn some sage in your home just to be sure."

You let Sticks do what she wants with you, after all, her superstitious perspective is a nice change from everyone just thinking your clumsy

You think her attempts to "cleanse" you are endearing, she tries something new everyday, and you end up learning a thing or two about survival and the corruptedness of politics from her

Weeks later, her attempts slowly dwindle down, and she just comes to accept she's just gonna have to keep an extra close eye on you, especially when she sets out booby traps

The time y'all have spent together, although it was somewhat motivated by Sticks not wanting to get whatever curse you exposed her to, lead to y'all having a close bond

Everyone has their quirks, she's paranoid and you're clumsy, but you two always manage to work things out

And that's the beauty of a relationship

A/N: Sorry I haven't been that active lately, so take this as an apology. Four hcs for the price of one!

[killerandhealerqueen]

Hi! How are you? I see you're delving into mriad, I think I tried to give it a shot once but then I saw comments where people really didn't like it because of the female lead and so I didn't bother. By your posts I'm... thinking... I made... the right call?

Sorry you're thinking of having to close your askbox because of the prompts, but just remember it's only a hobby, you're not bound by it, it's okay if it takes you a lot time or if you decide to just leave it for a while or just leave it. Should be fun and not stressful.

Is school going well? It's pretty cool that you're doing forensics. I could never, I am not good at math or science but I'm very admiring of you for sticking with it. But it is kind of funny because I'm taking a court services course now, I guess we have something in common of wanting to work in the law/court system! Although you more on the police end, I'm guessing? I'm not sure what exactly it entails but I'm sure you'll be great at it! :)

Rose! Hello!

Yes, I am diving into the world of MRIAD and I'm enjoying it so far, I really like Lu Yao and Qiao Chusheng but I cannot stand Bai Youning. Apparently everyone is telling me that she was an after thought and added as a love interest so really, if we wanted to, we could just ignore her existence all together, which is what I'm planning on doing (and it seems that the fandom basically ignores her too, so that's nice). Killer and Healer really blessed us with Chu Ran and Zhong Yiren and I'm grateful everyday that we got those two amazing women, especially now when watching the trainwreck that is Bai Youning.

About the askbox thing, I don't really wanna close it but I'm also tired of making like the same posts over and over again. And every time I make the post, I always feel like I'm complaining, you know? Like, I'm sure people when they read it are like you should be grateful that you're getting writing prompts and I am! I really am grateful that people are coming to me and asking me for prompts, it's all I've ever wanted since I've joined tumblr. I've always wanted to be known as a famous tumblr fandom writer and I think I'm achieving that now and I don't want to seem ungrateful because I'm not. I'm just afraid of getting overwhelmed, especially with grad school and everything. And I know it's just a hobby, I know it is, but to me sometimes I consider it work and I know that's a bad habit to have because once you turn something fun into work, it's not fun anymore. Also, my brain likes to keep setting this ridiculous goal of like...finishing 59 prompts by the end of the year and I'm just like...buddy, that's not fucking happening. It's not, especially with the amount of words I crank out for certain fics/fandoms. So yeah, hopefully won't have to close my askbox cuz I don't wanna do that, but I know a lot of my writer friends do close their asks whenever they get too many prompts or whatever so...we'll see. Probably won't close my ask but if it gets to be too much, I might. Idk. We'll see. I always say I'm going to do stuff like this but I never do

So far, school is going really well. It's interesting and I'm really enjoying my night class. It's a criminal profiling class and we're basically learning how to profile not just people but scenes as well and we're learning how to profile by studying serial murderers and rapists. It's a lot of fun (in my opinion). I'm really happy I chose forensics (trust me, no scientist likes math, none of us). Yeah, I do want to work probably more on the police end because I just don't understand the law the way lawyers do, but I do understand crime/death scenes.

Thanks for checking in! Really means a lot!