#NOTHING compared to what some friends have written but still a lot for me lol

[pe4nutastic]

So I made another writing thing, but like WAY longer than I originally thought it'd be. Conventionally, I've never really written things that involves me balancing more than one character lol so I'm not sure how adept I am at the balancing act yet.

All the same, this writing thing takes place in sort of alternate universe where Giegue survives M2 (originating from my old, now defunct, RP blog @anearthstruckalien) and is stuck in a kind of limbo where he needs to put his own destroyed mind back together. This is one of the many fragments he addresses.

Everything is muddled like an unwound thread, always unraveling without apparent end, splayed in all directions like spiderwork and tangled into painful knots where it had been unfortunate enough to cross into its own endless trajectory.  Muddled away into agony and nothingness.  Drenched in darkness and blood, only punctuated by a distorted painful buzzing of so much something. Hot and cold. Wet and dry.  Sparking yet dimmed.  Suffocating and all-encompassing, like a tomb.  Something short and flitting at some points, rising and lowering like especially mercurial tides, and endless at others unlike anything even the deepest and darkest depths of the oceans have ever seen.  Thoughts cannot be formed… whatever that is supposed to be.  Identity cannot be found, whatever that is supposed to be.  Memories cannot be fit together.  Whatever that is supposed to be.  He cannot discern how long it has been.  He cannot even conceptualize how something like that is measured or what it means, even as it passes through him like wind, there and yet not in an instant.

And then.  Abruptly, as if forcibly cutting to the next scene of a film in an especially jarring way with bemoaning screeeeeeeech upon reaching the terminal of some arbitrary counter, a sharp pang brings a few things to focus.  And now, he can perceive and process his environment.  A shred of clarity.  A void-like place, painted in an inky and seemingly never-ending darkness–one tinged in an oddly despairing and desolate hue somehow–and littered with glistening bits of bright shards.  Incomprehensibly bright and ever-shifting in colour and form; iridescence incarnate.  Glimmers of that which is missing, seemingly unable to fit with each other anymore yet drawn to one another anyways with the sense that with enough effort, somehow it could all fit together and become recognizable anew.  And altogether with it all, the first proper thought–as opposed to a mess of disjointed sensations and tortuous pain–springing to mind with a sudden start, something indescribably heavy like a pit coursing through what little remains of his very being intact:

Am… I… dying…?  Ceasing to… be…?

He squints or rather… would, if he had any associated visual to him.  As it stands now, it would seem that the being known as the Universal Cosmic Destroyer, is little more than a flicker of consciousness.  The tiniest and most fragile ember from a flame which had previously been extinguished, now sparking anew against all odds and probability.  Against the schematics of fate which had dictated that he die in the battle against the Earth’s latest set of Chosen Ones.  Dying.  Finality.  Somehow that seems daunting–though he can’t recall why–yet he cannot feel alarmed by it at all by his own questions nonetheless.  He had just regained (or gained?) the ability to properly process his environment and string together thoughts after all.  And either way, somehow he knows that this isn’t the end anyways.  Or at least, not yet.  All he has is a feeling.  One padded out by that which sparked that ember of consciousness, fragile as it is, into being.  A sense of resilience and indomitable spirit that refuses to bend or break, no matter how hard it is chipped away at by the harshest of elements:  willpower and determination.

The will to not die (but from what?).  The determination to endure and survive.

And somehow, without definitive rhyme and reason, part of that lies in the glimmering points of iridescent radiances before him, scattered about like stardust in the void.  He shifts his gaze towards the one closest to him, feeling something almost like a magnetic pull towards it, and as though on cue… –the very moment he eyelessly stares at it for more than a few seconds, the scene before him is softly wiped clean like chalk off a blackboard and replaced with far less monotonous and simplistic scenery:

A brightly lit room adorned by ivory wallpaper dotted with artfully-administered strokes of tiny multicoloured carnations, light brown hardwood floors, and containing little more than a small window with nothing to see but golden radiance of some kind shining through and a tiny wooden table full of various desserts and cups of tea; one cup before the entity himself and the other… before a blonde woman in a neatly-pressed pale pink dress ruffled at its ends and hanging just past her knees.

Dark blue eyes squint anew with a shrewd sense of calculation as he assesses the room anew, trying to piece together what had exactly happened to shift the location, but unable to come to an answer.  A train of thought that inevitably comes to an abrupt halt anyways when he catches sight of himself in the murky reflection of the tea soothingly settled in the ivory nook provided by its petite cup.  Shock jolts through him almost immediately, eyes widening just a smidge, as he almost jumps straight out of his plush seat.  Small fingers tap at his face and pull his cheek in an almost clinical way, as though jumpstarting a more thorough tactile examination.  He looks quite a bit like the blonde woman.  He looks… what was the word for it?  Human.  A young human boy to be precise.  Fluffy blonde hair.  A set of blue eyes set in white sclera and black pupils. A nose and mouth set into a relatively flat profile and smooth skin.  Real skin tinged with warmth, but with minimal color rising to its surface.  Human.  Somehow it feels like an illusion and yet he cannot recall every being anything else save for the formlessness he had experienced a moment prior.  Has he always been human?  It doesn’t feel like it, but…

…–and almost as soon as that particular thought starts, it comes to a grinding halt when, after what feels like an eternity of confusion and strangeness (but in actuality was little more than a few seconds worth of time), the blonde woman speaks up.

“Ah you’ve finally arrived!  I’m so happy to see you here!  It’s been a long time huh?”

She tucks a few strands of gently curling blonde hair behind an ear and all the while, the now human-boy tilts his head to the side a little at the inquiry.  A long time?  A long time for what?  He taps small stubby fingers against the solid wooden top of the table or rather, the long and lacey pale pink tablecloth daintily hanging over it, dull gaze averting in an oddly concentrated way as though attempting to grasp onto something.  Bit-by-bit, it feels like something is trickling in so as to fill an emptiness he had not realized he had, but not up to pace enough to leave him anything but perpetually confused and disoriented nonetheless.  There must be a more… a more… –efficient? yes, efficient method to this but it would seem that he has little more than the ability to think and process at the moment, knowledge itself lacking save for what inevitably trickles in.

“Are you comfortable?  I’ve prepared your favourite tea and some desserts that you’ve always liked just for this occasion.  So feel free to take as much as you want of whatever you want.  Nothing ever runs out here --take my word for it!”

She winks, one bright and lively blue eye–practically brimming with a zest for life and unwavering optimism for whatever the future may bring–of two, momentarily being obscured by the attached flap of skin before re-emerging.  In return, the human boy stares blankly at her for a few seconds before seemingly relenting his inscrutable gaze–unable to find whatever it is he was looking for–before gingerly plucking a shortbread cookie off its pristine plate, intrigued by both the dessert and by what the blonde woman had said.  By the very notion of having information that he lacks.  Something about that feels right… familiar… but he can’t quite place why exactly.  Lifting the cookie directly before him, rather than immediately consuming it, the human boy examines it with just a glint of intrigue in his comparatively dull pupils.

“My ‘favourites’...?  I have a favourite?  How would you know?”

A genuine question.  The entity rather delicately nibbles on the perfectly-formed edge of the cookie, swirling the tiny bit on the tip of his tongue, before taking a proper bite out of it afterwards.  One which he hopes will at the very least serve as a good point of reference or direction towards easing away that thick fog cluttering his mind.  The cookie is… hm… ‘good’.  It tastes good.  Familiar.  Safe.  Safe…?  Safe.  Dark blue voids flicker back up to meet the blonde woman’s gaze.  She seems to have no immediate response, thick eyebrows knitted in thought albeit without ever breaking her gaze on the entity himself, before settling on something, smile dimming a little to something less exuberant and more gentle and understanding.

“It’s a liiiittle tricky to explain if you even need to ask in the first place… but, I know what I do about you because in a way, I’m a part of you.

The one part that’s never changed… –that never could.

No matter how much everything else got rearranged.

…it’s never changed.  You were still you.  You still are.”

She taps a finger over where the human heart would be located, over the left side of her chest as she makes a claim of being part of the entity himself.  And she does just that, something lights up in softened iridescence over that point, in the shape of a stylized heart, the same occurring immediately to the entity himself in the exact same point and thus emphasizing the verity of her very point, dark blue voids widening just a smidge in surprise before giving way to a small pensive frown.  He sharply glances down to his own chest as the light fades away.  Part of him…?  He taps the same spot a few times.  But, he’s right here and yet… even though it seems nonsensical, it somehow seems to make perfect sense anyways.  Instinctively so.  The answer isn’t as direct as he had been hoping, but maybe it’s meant to be this way.  Meant to be?  There’s a word for that.  Destiny.  A bitter taste in his mouth.  Fate.  A sensation that twists and churns his guts (if he had any to begin with) with intense fervor for reasons he cannot entirely parse out… –doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t apply in this situation anyways.  Because this is on a significantly smaller scale anyways.

The entity takes a small sip of the hot and soothing tea before him, a cooling sensation immediately hitting afterwards despite its true temperature setting.  Peppermint.  Much like the shortbread cookies, it indeed seems pleasant to his palate.  Between this, what he captured beyond this world in the form of glittery fragments amidst a void, and the growing conglomerate sensation (familiarity, safety, trust) towards the blonde woman… it seems that there’s more merit than ‘meets the eye’ to this interaction.  Clarity starts with this.  Perhaps that’s why he was the most drawn to this fragment.  Another small sip of the peppermint tea.  Perhaps that’s why not receiving a direct answer is the most conducive to dispersing that thick fog over his mind.  Towards feeling less empty.

“Perhaps.  But, if what you are saying is accurate, then I must be incomplete.

In… pieces.

It is what my… ‘gut’ is telling me… though it also ‘feels’... incorrect to rely on such a thing.”  He glances back down at the tea, settled shortly after his last sip, and down to his murky reflection in it before shaking his head.  “This form feels incorrect.  As though I should have a different shape...”

Yet another sip of the peppermint tea, head tilting slightly to the side afterwards as he continues to speak, any uncertainty from before evaporating to be replaced by what seems to be rather characteristic of him; blank neutrality and flatness.

“Being in pieces is not my natural state, is it?  Is this interaction a way of pulling everything back together?”

The blonde woman takes a sip of her own tea.  Chamomile tea.  He can tell what it is somehow, without having tasted it and even before its smell registers with him.  It’s her favourite.  Just like the carnations dotting the worn wallpaper.  She taps her head for a moment as she responds, a hint of playfulness entering her tone as she does so.

“Maybe.  Maybe not. I can’t just tell you directly, but I can give that knowledge as an exchange of sorts.”

The entity lifts up his own cup of tea anew, as though planning to drink it, before deigning to just swirl the liquid around a bit as if mulling something over before responding, a twinge of determination entering his tone as he does so.  Of course not.  He isn’t being fed direct answers, but being directed towards them after all.

“What kind of exchange?”

Her smile widens, matching the playful tone as it continues to seep into her next few words.

“We can play a game and if you win, then I’ll be more direct with you.  A game of…”

She pauses, frowning a bit herself in a rather pensive manner as if mulling over a few options herself to determine which one would be best for truly helping the entity, before settling on something and with that, clasping her hands together with renewed enthusiasm. 

“... –of riddles!  It’s a pretty simple points-based game with two roles:  the one that makes up the riddles, the Riddle Master, and the one that answers them.

The Riddle Master gets points by making up riddles that the other player can’t answer while the player gets points by successfully giving the correct answer to the Riddle Master’s riddles.  No one loses points, you either get them or you don’t.

In this game, I’ll be the Riddle Master and you’ll be the one answering.  There’ll be a total of 5 riddles.  How does that sound for you?”

The entity hesitates very little, taking just a moment to mentally go over the exact parameters of the suggested game, before offering a definitive nod.  He’s already determined that judging by every minute improvement in his state here… it’s best to simply ‘play’ along, no matter how counterproductive it may seem.  He implicitly trusts her, even if the reason why exactly cannot be parsed out, and so this aspect to him must represent someone that was (and perhaps still is) important to him.

“I accept your arrangement.  Proceed with the ‘game’.”

The blonde woman takes another sip of her chamomile tea, gulping the rest of it down in one fell swoop before gently moving aside the empty cup… one which stays empty for only a second or so before the familiar steam of freshly crafted tea wafts through the air anew, as if no progress had been made on it to begin with.  ‘As much as you want’ huh?  The entity consumes the rest of his shortbread cookie, as if to test the theory for himself, and in line with what he had just seen… the empty spot on the plate from which he had plucked it is immediately filled with a new shortbread cookie as its replacement; a reinforcement that this is a matter of the mind… he thinks.  At this juncture, he only has sensations and hunches –not true concrete data to confirm if there is anything more than this.  He smoothes out the neck of his grey sweater before folding his own hands together with definitive intent and concentration, dark blue voids narrowing accordingly.  All the more reason to ‘play along’ and succeed in this game.

“Alright!  Let’s get to it then.  I’ll keep the first three riddles simple and easy; a good warm-up before getting to the trickier ones.

What… disappears as soon as you say its name?

That’s it.  That’s all you’re getting to work out the answer!”

The entity immediately gets to thinking over the answer.  A riddle is an inquiry that appeals to logic, problem-solving, or both.  And so, it either has an answer that’s so obvious one wouldn’t even consider it or clues scattered throughout as the characteristics of what the answer is supposed to be.  Judging by the minimal nature of this riddle… it must be the former.  The answer is obvious.  Something in plain sight.  An auditory component to it.  Speaking aloud the name of the subject will make it disappear and so, it can only exist so long as one doesn’t speak… ah.  He almost smiles, satisfied, even by such a trivial accomplishment.

“The answer is ‘silence’.  Not making any sound is a condition inherent to maintaining it therefore, it ceases to be once sound is made.”

The blonde woman gives an affirmative nod in agreement, sticking two closed fists with thumbs sticking out as if to reaffirm the point.  The entity isn’t entirely certain as to what he should make of the gesture, but based off her body language, he can only deduce that it is a positive gesture.  One whose continued enthusiasm is admittedly a little endearingly infectious though he doesn’t quite outwardly show it yet.  He doesn’t feel as though he is the sort to ‘warm up’ quickly to others, but something about this comes just as naturally as trust did, tinged with a sense of ‘deja vu’, as though he’s done this many times over before.  Something about this contents him, the familiarity and warmth prevalent throughout their entire interaction thus far playing no small role in this, even though the game has just started.

“That’s right aaaand one point for you!  You’re a natural at this –I knew you would be!  You’ve always been clever.  But, can you handle this one too?  

What has many keys, but can’t open a single lock?”

Hm.  Yet another question with very minimal clues and in lieu of that, an obvious answer to it.  Keys and locks.  A key?  A key is… a key is… hm… oh! something that is used to open places safeguarded by a matching lock!  Keys and locks are a pair, one shape fitting the other in order to move the mechanism keeping its interconnected block in place against those without the necessary key.  Small fingers pensively tap his chin.  But, in this case… the key in question has no matching lock.  Several keys without matching locks to be specific.  A quality inherent to the object in question and not the result of some defect or damage, if he has analyzed the phrasing correctly.

Admittedly… be it due to his gaps in actual knowledge or not, he cannot imagine anything which would have multiple useless keys attached to it.  But then… perhaps the term ‘keys’ does not refer to what his initial instinct falls upon.  Maybe he needs to consider alternate contexts of it…–an abrupt pause mid-thought, by the sound of the blonde woman tapping her fingers over top the table’s wooden surface.  A rhythmic and intentional motion…

… –as though, she’s creating music.  An oddly familiar tune, sweet yet bitter in a way he can almost grasp, like words just at the tip of his tongue.  Understanding clicks into place.  Playing an instrument.  With keys. 

“A piano.  The answer is a ‘piano’.”

No need to explain this time.  The abrupt, almost enthused despite the blandness of his tone, way in which the entity himself answered, cutting straight through the tapping says it all.  He’s certain in his conclusion with no need to explain it to the one that created the riddle in the first place.  And as such, he receives another set of ‘thumbs up’.  Something which sparks a bit of brightness in his heart anew; contentment and satisfaction at succeeding.

“Correct!  Two points now!

For someone that doesn’t remember much, you’re pretty good at this game, but remember, this is the last easy question before things get more challenging okay?”

A playful wink on her part while the entity does little more than offer a curt nod, much of his attention glued more to whatever the next question may be.  It’s difficult to parse out the exact words for this sensation, but it’s hooked him in rather quickly; a combination of its familiarity and the mental exercise it offers.

“What do you call two birds in love?”

And with that question, the blonde woman uses her respective thumbs and and index fingers to form the shape of a heart as if to emphasize the ‘love’ part.  The entity himself stares at the motion, from start to end, with a blank stare despite his enjoyment of the game before focusing in on piecing it out.  It doesn’t seem like a true riddle.  The question does not seem to have an object inherent to its answer, but a term instead.  He rubs his chin.  An odd departure or perhaps a format that he cannot recall, due to his fragmented state of being at the moment.  He thinks on it for a few seconds more before shaking his head, a touch disappointed in himself, and ultimately relenting.

“Apologies.  I do not know.  Would you be so kind as to enlighten me on the matter?”

A short and sweet–almost as musical as her voice, like gentle wind chimes–burst of laughter bubbles out her mouth at that before its obscured by an arm, bare skin far less effective than actual fabric would have been were the sleeves of her dress not short.  Nonetheless, once the blonde woman regains her composure enough, the answer comes out in one similarly short burst as if retelling an especially thrilling punchline to a joke.

“Tweet-hearts!  Get it?  Because they’re birds and in love –like sweet hearts haha!”

Another short and sweet burst of laughter, her hand gently smacking the table with a soft yet no less resounding thunk, clearly thoroughly enjoying the joke herself.  The entity on the other hand… though he understands the concept of it and the wordplay that inspired it, mouth twitching a bit, before he just turns his head to the side.  And he does so in a rather petulant and oddly childish way, as if overcome with an emotion from a separate moment in time tipped in deja vu, before huffing through his nose to forcibly dissipate any genuine amusement that may (or may not) have been felt by him.

“That is not a riddle.  It is wordplay.  You tricked me.”

In response, the blonde woman sticks up a single finger and wags it side-to-side, having long since gotten the last bit of her amusement out of her system, evidently finding great amusement in jokes like this.

“Uh-uh!  By definition, a riddle is a question or statement with a clever twist to it. And all clever twists need ingenuity to properly entangle, don’t you think?”

Incapable of actually keeping up the petulant facade–the emotion as insincere as everything else might as well be about him at this juncture–where the human woman herself is concerned, the entity ultimately relents and turns back to her with a nod.

“... I suppose.  Does it count against me then?”

She shakes her head, high energy dimmed a little but no less bright and warm in her overall demeanor nonetheless.

“It’s just a joke –a bit of humour!  Pretty punny don’t you think?  Don’t worry, this one doesn’t count against you.  You still have two points.  Two for you.  Zero for me.

Are you ready to move onto the next riddle?  Two more left.  And remember, it gets more challenging from here on out.”

The most immediate answer that pops to mind is a resounding ‘yes’.  And yet, the entity finds himself halted by a sudden and odd sense of melancholic emptiness, one which almost completely replaces the contentment he had experienced before.  He downs the rest of his peppermint tea, somewhat hoping to distract himself from the uncomfortable sensation, but ultimately failing.  How familiar.  The sense of deja vu is even stronger than before and it’s only really hitting him now.  It isn’t just the game itself, but the exact questions and wordplay interjection that’s familiar.  Nonsensical as it sounds, this exchange feels as though it’s happened before in every exact step…at least on the blonde woman’s part.  The entity himself has changed.  Somehow, he’s certain of it… certain that when (if) this actually happened in reality… he more closely mirrored the blonde woman’s demeanor.  He glances back down at the now empty cup before it immediately refills itself with the steaming and soothing aroma of the peppermint infused liquid.  The entity himself has changed, even before the fragmentation event, and likely for the worst.  He takes a renewed cursory glance at his surroundings, one with renewed clarity even through the still ever-present fog in his mind.

The surroundings make a lot less sense now.  The odd minimalism and the overly bright hues to everything (now that he really looks at it) as if it all has a subtle glow to it… the lack of anything beyond pure radiance outside the window… it seems less like reality and more like a dream.  A thing of the mind after all.  Something in his chest tightens.  Hesitation encased in dread cutting through what remains of his contentment before he mentally presses on with a determined nod, ready to hear the next riddle.

“A star twinkles in the distance, a wonder of its existence. In exchange for a bird, the silence of a child. A question of the sheep's provisions.

What is it?”

More challenging indeed.  The format is far less simple, especially when he’s on the cusp of what feels vaguely like an awakening of sorts.  A stab through delusion which, if he is to fully submit to the idea that this isn’t what reality is actually like, he must not have wanted to recover from on some level.  Not if it took for him this long to figure it out if he really is as supposedly clever as she claims.  And yet, despite the cloudiness introduced to his logical processes, the answer comes much quicker than before with little introspection needed on his part.  Like he already knows it… because he almost certainly already does.  Quick as it comes however, some of that hesitation from before rushes back with a biting vengeance.   It… hurts?  Something does.  The game is almost over after all and yet, his determination to see it through remains anyways.  Feeble as it may be… the entity nonetheless, pushes on anyways like before.

“...a lullaby.”

Almost despondently so, his gaze averting off to the side, but never fully breaking the blank neutrality of his tone.  Then silence for a bit.  A much needed reprieve and yet, one which even in the absence of the final riddle, only lasts for a short burst of time or so before his mind wanders back to the blonde woman’s tapping from before.  With a bit more clarity gained now… he not only realizes that she was giving him a hint as to what the answer to the second riddle was, but that he actually knows the words.  Sweet yet painful.  More clear images–and with it, the surroundings losing their subtle glow and coming more into focus–starting to filter through like film from an old movie that might have once been in pristine condition, but has now long since degraded, cutting off at certain points while slanting in an unsightly way at others.  Another pang of clarity.  He almost doesn’t want to play anymore.  To stop it at this before things go too far… before he is far too gone to return to being more contented and… and… normal.

N o r m a l.  He’s always wanted to be normal, but they would not let him.

A discordant thought.  One which he neatly sweeps aside, finding it easier to do so as opposed to letting it run any further, before forcing his attention back on the game.  Despite everything… he still, at the end of it all, feels inclined to finish.  He has to finish because this is important.  More than he had initially surmised in his far less lucid state upon arriving here.  At that conclusion, as if on cue, the blonde woman starts on the next riddle with no further lighthearted comments or jabs, her expression going completely inscrutable yet no less determined as if she knows the end is near in more ways than one.  An awakening is coming and though it’s a bit hard to pop the entity’s bubble… though it feels cruel… she must press on.  It’s better this way.

“Three points.  Onto the last riddle

I’m always old yet sometimes new.

Never sad yet sometimes blue.

Never empty but sometimes full.

Never pushy but always pulling.

Always here even when I’m gone.

What am I?”

The entity’s eyes widen as though he’s just been sloshed with a bucket of ice-cold water.  Inexplicably so.  Nothing about the wording is especially offensive and yet something tightens in his chest anyways.  The very feeling which had been building up over the course of this whole interaction peaking and exploding by the very last sentence of the riddle, small hand reaching up to tightly grip just over his chest, where his heart would be were he actually as human as he appears.  The moon.  Gone.  He knows it.  Not real.  She’s gone.  He knows that this is the answer with 100% certainty and yet the answer is caught in his throat anyways, as blocked and paralyzed as he’s abruptly become as something inscrutable splits, fracturing like glass or like one layer of a haze which had hung over him ever since he had gained cognizance anew.  She’s gone.  The moon in all of its mundane glory.  A basic satellite that orbits the earth.  Her home.  She’s gone.  A rock inhospitable to humans and littered with maria, dark flat regions that look like bodies of water from a distance–

…–maria? He shakes his head to himself.  No.  Not maria, but Maria.  Maria.

Maria.  She’s gone.  Always here.  Always gone.

It all cliiiiiiicks into place.  Not in full–that much requires a far lengthier and more arduous journey–but enough to properly identify that which pertains to the blonde woman before him.  His hands curl into tight fists by his sides, posture going completely rigid as he shakes his head, as though that would somehow magically make this particular ‘awakening’ stop.  To Maria.  His dearest mother.  His only family.  The one and only bit of good in his life before everything was irreversibly poisoned.

Poisoned by them.

And as if in direct response to that particular thought, rising up against it amidst everything else, something abruptly breaks on the inside and against all odds, out gushes a sensation even more overwhelming than what’s just hit him.  Overwhelming enough to push aside that odd melancholic emptiness, bitterness, and despair which had all too fast begun to fill him.  A jumbled patchwork of emotions that shouldn’t fit together yet do all the same nonetheless, tumbling out at various intensities and moments without rhyme or reason.  And it is all because of her, with one particular emotion far above the others at the core and helm of it all.  The very base origin behind everything felt now.  The planet to everything else which revolves around it.

An all-encompassing, rich, and impossibly deep sensation, almost suffocating in its concept, almost too overwhelming to contain within his fragile body yet somehow it manages to be anyways.  It permeates every fibre of his being.  It exists in every crevice and space where it could fit within the essence which constitutes who he is.

Warmer than the simple, bright, and short sprigs of happiness from before.

More passionate than the most concentrated poisons of hatred.

Beyond all comprehension and in complete violations of all logical conventions;  the very pinnacle of irrationality, evolved beyond its initial spark and into its final transcendent format.

Love.

Yes.  That’s right.  It’s clear to him now.  More than anything else, he loves her.  He had forgotten that he did, for a bit, but now that he is no longer blinded by… other things… he realizes that there is nothing more important than that.

Nothing more important than her.

That is what has come gushing out with such vigor.  The true form of his feelings towards his adoptive human mother.  That is the precise name of that sensation.  It only hurts because he loves her.  It hurts because it mattered.

Because it still does.

Despite everything, it still matters.

She still matters.

“Maria.  Mother.”

He hesitates, sadness sharply pinpricking his heart with renewed enthusiasm against the seemingly endless onslaught of love as if attempting to strike a particular emotional balance and with it, a strange and foreign wetness forming at the corners of his eyes.  Liquid.  Strange, upsetting, and rending liquid.  Are his optical receptors broken…somehow, even here in a dream…?  He rather tentatively glances down at his refilled cup of peppermint tea to discern the true identity of the mysterious liquid, almost jumping back as he does so, his chair making a muffled skidding sound on the floor as the only indication of his shock.  His appearance is no longer human.  He appears as he feels he should, but perhaps a bit small?  A small clawed digit pokes at an upright and triangular ear, then at his stubby snout, large dark blue voids (the same colour through every part of his eyes, from the sclera to the pupils) narrowing in the welcome distraction that this provides before closing his eyes with a sigh, the clear liquid dripping out and staining the otherwise pristine pink tablecloth before him.  Fists somehow becoming even tighter, claws digging into the palms of his hands without drawing blood.

“Are you really here?”

The question comes tumbling out, rigid neutrality finally properly breaking a bit under the enormous weight of what can only be his own grief reborn–having originally never been permitted to properly manifest and instead, kept at bay by things that seem awfully petty and meaningless now–before he can stop himself.  He knows.  He knows the answer to his own question.  The painful, bitter, and ugly truth.  He knows and yet he can’t help asking, hoping to be wrong.  To receive an answer to halt what he’s reliving; the warmth and intensity of love, outlined by crushing and unrelenting sadness.  Maria herself reaches out–the chairs, table and everything on it having mysteriously vanished now seemingly in accordance with this change in the entity himself, as smoothly and seamlessly as if it had been like this all along–and bending down to the entity’s now diminutive height, her expression twisted a little with concern, and gently presses a thumb at the corners of his eyes to wipe a few more budding tears away.

“My dearest Giegue, I’m always with you.  And I always will be.”

She pulls him into a hug and overwhelmed by the flurry of emotions as he is, Giegue does not resist.  Rather he numbly allows for it to happen, more liquid leaking out his eyes to replace that which Maria had so kindly wiped away, his mouth pressed into a rather tense line that faintly quivers as if holding back so much more.  He can’t breathe, physiological impossibility of that aside.  He can’t move.  He can barely think, what little he can manage utterly dedicated towards “getting it together”, simply-put.  His memories are largely incomplete, but this feels awfully pathetic anyways.  As though he’s supposed to be better than this.  As though he has no right to break and bend at all and rather, has a duty towards remaining completely militant.  To otherwise fail to do so, as he is now, admittedly makes him feel hatred not just for them in general but for himself for being unable to do something so basic and so much more.

“You’ll always have a bit of the most important people inside your heart.  They’ll always be a part of you, even after they’re long gone.

Memories might hide in different parts of the mind’s maze, but they’re never really gone.

You never really forget the important things.  Do you understand?”

Of course he understands, comprehension cutting through the budding self-hatred for a moment.  He slowly, almost tentatively moves just a bit to loosely return her hug.  But, that’s exactly what makes this so difficult.  He knows.  He knows that, though the sincerity of her words rings through, this isn’t the real Maria.  It’s an aspect of his mind.  Love and maybe a bit of hope made manifest in the form that which exclusively inspires such an irrational state of being.  He closes his eyes shut rather tightly, pointed teeth grinding harshly from behind the tight line of his mouth.  He knows.  His fingers claw into the pink fabric of her dress as if he’s been starved of something for a very long time and can no longer continue to push back the desire to be satiated at long last.  He knows that he needs to complete this interaction in order to move onto the next fragment of many out there.  To become more complete.  And yet… his grip on the pink fabric abruptly tightens at the thought of having to move onto something else.  How despicable.  And yet… he briefly entertains the thought of never properly waking up.  Disgusting.  Of never becoming complete again.  Lowly scum.  Of the dream never ending.

Irrationally so.

Irrational.  Stupid.  And selfish.

Childishly so.

Stupid.  Stupid.  Stupid.

Let go.

But, he can’t.

Move on.

To what…?

Get over it.

How can he?  Everything has unraveled too far to neatly tie back up in its box.

Let go.

NO.  Never again.  That fleeting thought of never repairing himself is promptly crushed underneath his proverbial and unyielding heel.  How can he even think like that?  Be that pathetic and weak?  Somehow.  He knows that it isn’t like him.  And even if it is, then he knows that he needs to transcend such a basal nonetheless.  To be better.  Stronger this time around.  A slow and disapproving shake of his head to himself before the Psion pulls back from the hug, letting go of her dress and recomposed just a bit albeit still teary, and levitates up enough to meet Maria at eye level.  The first display of his psionic power since he regained his ability to think and process things at all, perhaps in response to the latest bit of growth towards becoming complete.

For several moments, he just stares at her.  Just stares and stares and stares while she patiently waits, completely nonplussed–a glimmer of understanding no less prominent in her gentle gaze–by this particular development.  He can’t find the words.  Despite his renewed, albeit still shaky, determination… words fail him anyways.  Despite knowing just how much of an illusion this actually is… mountains of mountains of mountains of words pile up all at once, much like the way all these feelings and thoughts of his had come rushing back in a jumbled mess.  There’s so many things that he wants to say.  Things he’s always wanted to say to her; archived for millenia until the consequent backlog became almost impossible to contain, now bursting out and flooding his mind in violent waves.  She’s not really here.  She’s gonegonegone.  

Destined to never cross paths with him again.  

Like lines that can never intersect.

GONE.

There’s NO POINT in saying anything meaningful.  And yet…

“I am sorry.  I could not be what you wanted me to be.  I have failed you.”

He cannot help himself anyways.  His head dips down, gaze averted towards the ground while his shoulders hunch ever-so-slightly, thoroughly miserable.  Shame.  Pure and unadulterated shame.  Out of the billions of things that he could say… that he shouldn’t bother with saying on principle… this comes out anyways.  A hollow apology tinged with regret.  Like that fixes anything, especially when he cannot entirely recall what he’s sorry about in the first place.  All he knows is that he’s deeply regretful about everything and that it is because he has in a way that is exceedingly wrong.  Utterly unworthy of all that she has invested in him in the short time they had known each other.  Is that really all he can say anymore after everything?  More liquid leaks out his eyes and falls, guided by the gravity of this dream towards the nonexistent ground now, blanked out by pale yellow hues in place of the wooden floor from earlier.  All the while, Maria shakes her head as if in disagreement with the Psion’s outward claims and the thoughts running through his mind earlier on, before gently pressing a hand to his shoulder.

“You haven’t failed me.  I think that… sometimes… we lose our way in life.  That doesn’t mean that we can’t find our way back.  Most people don’t stay lost forever.

The fact that you’re sorry at all is proof that you’re part of that majority.”

She steps forward and takes his small stubby hands into her own, cold contrasting against the very human warmth of her fair skin.  A beat.  And the Psion himself instinctively returns the grip–even though he shouldn’t–though he still doesn’t shift his gaze off the ground.

“Giegue.  You’re capable of more good than you know.

I still believe in you.  I always have and always will.  Because… just as I’ve said before, despite everything, you’re still you.

And I’ve always believed that you had a good heart.  I still do.

It’s never too late to turn away from the path you’ve been on thus far and do what’s right.  To be good against all perceived odds.  Even your own.”

Giegue wants to irrationally resist.  Hands twitching with intent to ball into fists, but only halting that particular action because said appendages in question are intertwined with hers.  Resist her words.  Resist the sense of ease starting to creep its way through him.  He wants to hold onto all that hatred, bitterness, and misery for as long as he can… to press it so close to his very core that he will never forget how rendingly awful it feels.  He deserves it.  Just as much as he wants to never let go of her, even if she’s just an illusion here.  And yet, he finds himself comforted by the words anyways, pain ebbed away by her warmth and kindness.  It’s absurd.

Because even if she’s an illusion… an apparition of his mind… he cannot bring himself to sincerely fight her on this.  He cannot deny her.  Not anymore.  So the only option he has is to simply let himself be comforted by it, somehow, and instead focus on seeing this interaction through to its end.  The surrounding details fading further away, window and wallpaper disappearing until the background is little more than a pastel rainbow of color splotches twinkling with a mysterious kind of radiance, like the starry night sky.

Good.  Being good.  Is it really that simple?

It hardly seems like it, especially for a creature such as himself.  The sincerity of her words come through as clearly as his rediscovered… love… for her and yet, he cannot help doubting himself anyways.  He’s comforted by her words, but doubt creeps in just as swiftly as comfort comes nonetheless.  He’s done nothing to warrant such faith in his apparent intrinsic ‘good’.  Absolutely nothing.  That much, he’s certain of, even in the absence of supporting memories and knowledge to that.  Because he was created by them.  The Psion species and they are certainly not good.  Because Maria is indisputably good and Giegue himself is nothing like her.  His shoulders hunch further, twitching but not accompanied by any further tears, his gaze somehow dipping down even further –fixed to the ground with even more intent than before.  Then he speaks, expression as blank as the tone of his words despite the uncertainty, misery, and lack of direction behind them.

“Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  I nonetheless no longer have a purpose.

What am I supposed to do anymore?

There are many gaps in what I can recall at this juncture, but somehow I simply know that there is nothing meaningful beyond this ‘dream’.”

He pulls his hands away from Maria, so as to wipe away the last few pinpricks of liquid off the corners of dark blue voids, shaking his head as he does so despite the resignation from before, emotional vulnerability of a new sort cracking through his renewed neutrality as he continues on, volume gradually quieting as he reaches the end of his message.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.

I’m… I am…. afraid that I am not strong enough to do anything else.

That I am only good for causing destruction and harm.

I am… afraid that… that I am not strong enough to be more than what they wanted.”

For a moment, there’s a brief flicker of sadness in her ever patient, gentle, and understanding gaze–a breakage in kindness and optimism paralleling the breakage in the Psion’s neutrality–before it snaps back to normal.  Then a pause as Maria carefully thinks over how to answer.  How to even begin addressing his feelings.  Complex things entangled in such a way, hatred completely and utterly integrated throughout, that it could not possibly be resolved in one fell swoop.  Nonetheless, the apparition has hope and unwavering belief in her son’s strength.  The memory of her would not exist at all if he really were as hate-worthy and weak as he believes.  And deep down he knows it.  She places her hands, one atop the other, over her heart while a small, hopeful, and knowing smile makes its way back onto her face anew.

“I only want for you to be happy with yourself and your life again.  It might seem impossible to you now, but I know that it will come to pass.

Giegue.  

You are so much stronger than you know.

The answer might not be immediately clear to you on what you’re meant to do now, but that’s okay.  You’ll figure it out and make it through.  You always do.”

Much like before, the Psion is hit with that impulsive and irrational desire to rebel against her words, but this time he quashes that impulse much more quickly.  Even if he cannot quite believe in himself the way she’d like for him to… he has to somehow try anyways.  If not for his sake, then certainly for hers.  He straightens his posture out and finally returns Maria’s gaze more properly, a fragile yet no less determined glint reflecting off dull pupils.  His doubts and fears cannot be mitigated so easily, but that does not matter because if he allows for himself to be completely consumed by such lowly sensations then he will only end up wasting the time, effort, and love–unworthy as he is of it at all–the real Maria had put into him long ago.  Apparition or not, the feelings of his which manifested it to begin with are real.  And in his… ‘heart’... he knows that this is how the real Maria would feel.

“Do you really believe that…?”

One last slippage, one last glint of vulnerability, and he’s done.  It’s a question he cannot help asking.   Especially now that the apparition before him has abruptly lost her details in line with the renewal of his resolve, demoted to little more than a vague pink outline while the multicolored splotches of their collective backdrop fragments to reveal the void from earlier on, sans a glimmering fragment.  The very development he had been dreading, but he holds strong against it with rigid neutrality.  He has to.  For her sake.

“Do you even need to ask?  Of course I do.”

She then looks down at herself, starting to fade now with the rest of the scattered backdrop pieces, and sighs a touch disappointed.  As if she had been hoping for a little more time despite knowing that this final outcome was near.

“Our time here is almost done.  You’ve achieved what you needed to.  Before I go… can I make one last request of you…?

I know that it might be a bit much with everything that you’ll have to face moving forward–”

The apparition is abruptly cut off before she can finish her sentence when the Psion sticks out a stubby arm, palm facing outward and towards her as a silent indication to cease speaking immediately.  No explanation is needed.  He will always help her without question.  She needn’t even ask.  Such is the ‘power of love’ in all those… stories of heroes and monsters that his adoptive human mother used to tell him, is it not?  In the end, love always prevails and though mere fiction, it certainly applies here.

“Yes.  Anything.  You can have no request that is too unreasonable for me to fulfill.

Though I may be uncertain on where I… ‘fit’... now… there is something that I can nonetheless say with certainty on how I will exist from now on.

And it is that… no matter what happens, has happened, or will happen… I will always stand by your figurative side through it all.

No matter what, I will never abandon your memory.”

The Psion receives no immediate response, the apparition taken aback for a moment, as if she hadn’t been expecting this particular response.  Or at least, not so quickly.  Strange for a mere apparition born of his mind.  As an aspect of him, she should have anticipated this particular result anyways, but then… he was rather heavily damaged.  His entire mind had fractured and so, certain… incongruencies can be expected.  Nonetheless, the apparition quickly recovers, a bit of pride making its way into her fading features as she smiles for the last time, embracing the Psion as she does so which he more immediately returns this time around. A tentative and awkward, as if completely unused to contact like this, but not less sincere in its gentle nature.

“I should have known.  I won’t hesitate then.

Protect the Earth and all life on it, won’t you?”

Gone.  Gone.  Gone.  Her voice fades away as she speaks along with the rest of her form, little more than a ghostly whisper lost to the void.  She’s gone.  One hand curls into a small and tense fist, both dropping by their respective sides, while his eyes screw shut.

Some part of him admittedly felt compelled to reach out, as if that would somehow stop what had happened. Another part felt inclined to call out to not leave, even though he already knew such an inevitability was near. The visuals made that much abundantly clear. He should have done this. He should have done that and yet, it happened too fast for him to do anything but reel in the cold and isolated aftermath of it all. An aftermath from which he cannot falter; he had already done far enough of that and at this juncture, he must remain strong even as renewed bits of wetness threaten to deftly slide out the corners of his eyes.

The real Maria is long gone. She has been for a very long time. That was just an apparition. Nothing more and nothing less.

Gone, but certainly not forgotten.

The pale alien takes a moment to just… accept what’s happened… the part he supposed would be hardest, even though he had braced for it.  One.  Two.  Three.  An inhalation of air.  Four.  Five.  Six.  An exhalation of air.  Then he opens his eyes anew and glances out at the remaining fragments in the darkness as the remaining bits of the previous fragment’s backdrop morph into pure glittering golden light–the very same which had once shone through the window in the dream–before concentrating into a beam that fades into his body, right where a heart would be if he physiologically had one.

“I will.  I promise.”

The semantics of that do not matter. Whether it's more complicated or simpler than he can currently envision, limited as his current database is, he will certainly see her request through to the very end.

It's the least he can do. The only thing he can do for her anymore as her son.

[dramadramallama]

just finished jazz for two and honestly... not bad! the acting's really nice, even if the writing falls short at times. there were some really good moments, and the tension really worked. i was like, INVESTED.

i'm living for the longer episodes; they're only 30 minutes long, but i remember the 6-7 mins (not counting the opening+closing credits) we mostly got--and still get sometimes. i'm sensing a change and i'm all for it. now if only they could use those 30 minutes efficiently.......

the biggest flaw i think comes from the "fake-depth" of the characters. instead of intelligently suggesting/implying stuff to 1. save some time 2. let the audience interpret things on their own--they spend a lot of time on unnecessary scenes and off-screen narration (my biggest enemy in kdramas) to give the illusion of substance. it's not so much that's there too much telling, and not enough showing, it's more like there's too much showing for things that should have been told instead (and vice versa.)

all that time could have been spend on more casual scenes to show the character's personalities and their relationships. y'know, get some real depth. nothing crazy, just a few details here and there, to highlight important characteristics, and show why they act the way they do.

jun-ha was really interesting, and the dynamic he had with do-yoon's happy-go-lucky character was kinda nice. the actors did really well. but he was written like they didn't who he was at all, like they just needed an archetype to fill up an empty space. what was the deal with his sister exactly? she was so normal compared to him lmao. why was he so interested in se-heon at first? his borderline sexual harassment was way more incriminating that whatever he had going on with do-yoon, so why panic over a lil smooch? i think they both would have done it justice if their relationship had been explored more.

similarly, we mostly see tae-yi's prickly side, even when he's hanging with his (only?) friend, do-yoon. why not show why they get along so well? or why do-yoon likes him so much that he doesn't seem bothered by his moody temperament? do-yoon didn't even know he had a dead older brother lol, like... what kind of friends were they exactly? they also could have spent some more time showing exactly why and how se-heon falls for tae-yi. like even though i totally bought it (they were cute!), at least sell it to me a little? it was almost like there was no transition from the frenemies tension-filled moments and the first kiss. it's nice that they got to the top of the stairs but they missed a few steps and almost tripped lol.

but hey, they got there in the end!

Trope Tally:

new guy at school

heavy rain + umbrella sheltering and sharing

guys slamming other guys against walls

unavoidable bed sharing + bonus "i hate you" (*cuddles you when asleep*) + double combo "i sleep better around u"

slow mo falls (+bonus lying on top of each other)

past trauma (+bonus orphan)

controlling parent (+bonus RICH controlling parent)

cool uncle

everyone's kinda gay lol

the power of music AND LOVE

light hurt/comfort (and YOU get beat up, and YOU get a slight cut on your hand, and YOU get also beat up!)

noble idiocy (+bonus unnecessary break up)

jerk with a heart of gold (x2)

sunshine/tsundere pairing (... x2)

[dayurno]

sorryyyy for bringing some type of discourse to your inbox but I just giggle whenever anyone brings up the fact that nora soad andrews a misogynist and their only argument is the fact that he's friends with renee and dating neil who said women are the strongest ppl i know, like i don't personally think he's a misogynist, but i feel like there has to be better arguments for it😭

maybe it's bc the fandom gets on my nerves so I'm more sensitive to any attempts a defanging and making characters more palatable bc I'm not a fan of the widespread fanon versions of the characters also it's sad I feel like the fandom made some sort of progress where discussions were being had about the problems in the series and now after tsc came out it feels like we're back to where the author can do no wrong and it's hard to criticise anything

what do you think about tsc being a triology, I feel like two books can hopefully give Jeremy the depth he needs i remember you found him a bit flat as well when you read the book, I see a lot of people saying he needs to have a mean side or a traumatic past but I feel like a kind, nice character can be interesting without those things and not every kind character needs to have this secret mean side anyway, personally I groaned out loud when I found out it was a triology bc that would mean the fandom would be alive for longer and it's so crazy out of any book fandom I've ever been in for some reason the aftg fandom feels the most obnoxious maybe it's bc the books deal with heavier topics close to the heart so there's more feelings involved🤔the only book fandom who has pissed me off a comparable amount would be asoiaf but that's a whole different thing

I really do try and be happy I'm not even in the fandom anymore and I've never followed aftg twitter accounts and I don't even check the tags I just go on certain blogs but i still see things it's horrible💔like I can't believeeee we're still discussing if Kevins a coward or not and how selfish he is for leaving the nest like we've already argued about this to death on tumblr back in like 2016 now it's the same thing again💔

LOL i understand honestly so many of these discussions are repackaged wide-spread 2015 opinions which don’t reflect the original text that it’s hard to do anything except use the we have this thread every week comrade image and let it go. andrew being misogynistic is not even hard to come to terms with considering it’s not an interpretation or a headcanon it’s the author’s own words and will for the character incorporated into canon. there are things to disagree with nora sakavic for, but ultimately there is a difference between disagreeing with the author and willfully ignoring the intention with which a character was written

& i didn’t really care much for the news, i think the lack of planning and the rushed way the books are coming along are grating on both the author and the fandom, but i don’t blame her for wanting to get this done and over with. it will show more insight on jeremy hopefully, but unfortunately i already don’t care 😭 i think the route tsc took was in general uninteresting and pedestrian enough to not warrant a second thought, and i’m not particularly interested in any plotline beyond what pertains to kevin and the ravens. what surprised me really is the total lack of impact tsc had on the fandom, which is to say, i think it was so in line with the same 3-5 headcanons passed around the last 10 years that it has genuinely done nothing for anyone aside from the people who were already very invested in jean and/or jeremy. it feels like a different fandom from aftg altogether, which i’m happy about if only because it keeps us all locked in different cages, but it still baffles me to see people dedicate so much thought to a book whose characters bar jean are, as of now, the very definition of Nothing burger. all in all the answer to that question and most questions pertaining to tsc is Who cares. because literally who cares

LMFAO staying away from aftg twt is really good for you & honestly all of us. it’s still so funny to me that not even nora sakavic herself wanted to touch that mess. mentally ill white suburbanite teenage shut-in echo chamber ass fandom

[ahiddenpath]

For the fanfiction ask game: 17, 18, 25, 49, 51!

Citrus! Thank you so much for the asks! If anyone is looking for Digimon Adventure and 02 fanfics, you can read mine on FFN or on AO3 if you are logged in <3

17.) Do you have a writing routine?

A few years ago, I was big on finding a place with a closed door and lighting a candle (partly for vibes, partly to discourage wandering off). But these days, I try to be as informal as possible, so that it's easy to write anytime, anywhere. Sometimes, all you can do is get 15 minutes of copying edits into your draft or jotting down ideas, and those 15 minutes are way better than nothing.

18.) Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

I enjoyed research a lot more about 10 years ago. Search engines are a nightmare these days! I tried to research courtship in Japan and France in the 1930s for Puits d'Amour, and there is. Nothing. Searchable on Google in English for anywhere except the states and the UK. I ended up purchasing some books on the history of courtship that are, sadly, still very US and UK oriented, and just. Making it clear in my fic that the countries portrayed are fictional, largely in part bc I just could not get my hands on the info I needed.

I did some medical research for Seeking Resonance that was really interesting for me at the time, and oddly, came up in my career just last week! I was floored lol!

25.) What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

I seem to be comparatively light on the worldbuilding and outlining. I love writing because flow state feels amazing and I love editing because it's challenging play. Often, I find that what I want to say evolves from the moods and ideas that occur during flow state. It's been interesting, because over the 12 years of publishing as ahiddenpath, I can see reflections of what I was dealing with personally at the time, and how I resolved that strain with the story. Of course, this kind of writing demands more editing later, as it's so freeform. But I enjoy editing, and I believe my love of writing and need to write are strongly connected to the fact that I use writing to deal with things, to understand myself, to challenge myself, and to grow.

49.) What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

How I write and how I think about writing is always changing and evolving, so I suppose my more recent fics? But for the digimon fandom specifically, I usually say After August. Like most of my stories, it's a character-based drama. Specifically, it's about the Adventure Chosen dealing with the loss of their partners and the difficulty of shifting from life as a Chosen in the Digital World to life as kids on earth. Each of them copes in a resoundingly individual way, and they reach out to one another to offer what comfort and support they can.

My works tend to be about people grasping for self-growth and dealing with their demons. They usually aren't plot heavy, although I've been pushing myself to explore plot-based stories recently.

51.) Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

One of my closest friends has a master's in literature, and she obligingly wrote me a list of what is... How do you say this? Expertly??? Considered the best literature available in the English language. I've spent the last several years feasting on that, hoping to learn and grow. So, um. My writing can't compete, lol!!!!!

But lately, I've gotten back into reading purely for fun, rather than growth/challenge/experience. I devoured three modern Greek myth retellings in like a three week span, and I have another waiting at the library for me to pick up! Typical, lmao!

The sudden contrast made me notice that, at the risk of sounding snobbish, books written because the narrative is fun, imaginative, and joyful to behold are a different experience than books that encapsulate some aspect of humanity with painful, exquisite, brutal clarity. It's like, hello reader, would you like enjoyment or an existential crisis???? It's been a privilege and a joy to grow from these uh... Literature degree required reading list books. But man it's fun to eat a novel like it's cake!!! OM NOM NOM MORE PLEASE!

I'm not sure if that answered the question at all, but I guess recently I am trying to explore books that I find delightful rather than personally challenging.

Thanks for the asks friend, they were a great distraction from some difficult stuff <3 I really appreciate it! I'm happy to take more if anyone is interested.

[faidfluorite]

mermaid swamp (remake) reviewwww

prefacing this by saying i can count the amount of rpgmaker games i've played on one hand (SADLY)... gradually changing that by going through a friend-vetted list >:3

mermaid swamp felt super confined which really lent itself to the stories super spooky atmosphere... i love lakeside horror and this definitely cranked up the notch with the bog body mermaids and swamp fume craziness. after my first playthrough i wasn't super crazy on the protagonist aside from the fact that i love women who are written as sort of unapologetically brash and headstrong, but in my playthrough (true ending) i wasn't huge on her being a history major with 0 interest in actually researching what the hell was happening in that house

and then it totally hit me that i went to college for animation with people who didn't know how to use the fill tool and a lot of stuff made sense LOL. rin feels like the kind of character that learns through doing, and a fundamental part of the her escape from the trap the main cast find themselves in is learning, through multiple horrific experiences, to put trust into her friends even when she's beginning to not trust herself.

with yuka, it's trust that she'll survive- that if they find a way out of the mansion and to a hospital yuka will pull through and their struggles won't have been for nothing.

for yuuta, it felt like trust that he could break through his episode once rin destroyed the paintings holding him hostage. there's a small order you have to follow, new house's paintings to old house's and if you rush off in a frenzy to try and lose him, he almost senses that franticness and you get a game over as he kills you at the swamp's edge. when you find a way to calm him down, he's able to rest and regain his strength to bring you all home! something you can't do if yuka or yuuta don't survive.

with seitaro... you sort of have to battle with this line of trust and intimacy throughout the entire story. without him, rin loses her motivation and some of her grounded sanity (in an ending where yuka, yuuta and rin make it to the climax without rin, she still completely loses it and throws herself into the swamp). when seitaro has an episode and tries to coax rin into staying by his side, she has to trust in who she knows he is to break through her confusion and defend herself to keep them both alive.

to give the "mermaids" peace and to find closure herself, rin has to trust her gut and bury them underground. they have to share in their suffering, accept that the only way they're leaving the mansion is if they leave irrevocably changed and that in itself is how the old man can also find closure from his families prolonged "curse"...

i have a lot more thoughts about folklore and urban legend, generational trauma and the passage of time as a means of healing old wounds but i only played the remake tonight so i would want to play the original game before writing more so i can compare the two and see how the story has been changed and developed ^_^

all in all a really fun, short game! if any of you like rpgmaker games, i would love some more reccs!

[golbrocklovely]

I find it funny how fans in the same sentence complain about m being fake, being a clout chaser and not having a job and mention that shea and stas were way better. They all 3 had work done, both shea and stas did things to profit of off snc. Like you literally only know about them cause of snc. I never watched shea's streams cause of time difference but from what I heard she literally is airing out colby's private business on there. And what jobs do they have? Stas went multiple times to vegas with snc and did what while the boys were editing?! How is that different than m visiting colby in vegas doing probably nothing? Not to mention that both stas and shea also post a lot of bikini/ half naked pictures on instagram. To me they not that different from each other. Make it make sense.

i agree with pretty much everything you said.

if we're honest, the reason why fans hate m so much is bc she is getting to do what shea and stas didn't - date colby. those two did everything in their power to make it seem like they had something going on, but colby (and even they themselves) would deny it all the time. but m is the one actual girl we can name that is truly dating colby. whether it's serious or not is not up for us to decide on, but it's clear they are together.

and also - let's be brutually honest here - a lot of fans hate her bc she's hot. it's just that simple lol

tbh idc (and don't understand why anyone else for that matter) what any of the girls do for a living. some of them are privileged enough to rely on their parents and not have to get a real job. some have to actually get one. it is what it is. i'm not here to judge on that.

but i do 1000% agree on the "you literally only know about them cause of snc". snc are popular and well known, they have millions of eyes on them at all times. if you're really gonna say m is using colby strictly just bc she has less followers than him, then call out EVERY GIRL he's been friends with. bc they all have less than him.

shea literally buys followers for insta. and before that the only reason anyone knew her was bc of adventure buddies. and stas was known bc of kat. like… why are we even having this discussion lol

and yes, shea is in fact airing out everything to do with colby. her fans say it's bc she's allowed to vent and complain about what went down. sure, if that's all she was doing, i would get it. but that's not what she's doing. she's bragging about how much she helped him, how he went thru multiple life crisis and she was there for him. she's written tons of poetry, basically full on admitting that whole chapters (and her insta captions) are about him. and then on top of all of this, she can't even keep her own story together on what they really were or the timeline of things. she's not a reliable narrator, but none of her fans care bc to them this is just another way they get to hate on colby - which is basically all they live for now.

and the pics and comparing m to them is laughable. again. they're just pissed she's hot and he's dating her. and yeah, he did take that pic of her in the bathtub. it's her fucking back, stop being weird as if yall aren't adults. she could wear a fucking trash bag and be covered head to toe and you guys would still call her a slut.

why don't you just block her and move on now? clearly colby doesn't give a rat's ass what yall think of him or his girlfriend. suck a fuck and grow up :)

(none of this is directed at you, anon.)

[jerzwriter]

Hi, Elsa! Could you please answer: 🍲🍥 and🍡? I wish you a great week! 🌹

Hello Dear Dani! (From This List)

I've answered this one:

🍲 When did you start writing and why? and this one 🍡 Which of your fics was the most emotionally difficult to write? Here.

But... I did leave out WTD on the second question. Since it was an OH fandom friend asking, my head was just there. But in WTD land, A Mother's Journal has been excruciating at times. As we've discussed, being mothers ourselves and having traversed some minefields in recent years, a lot of the material hits close to home. Being a parent doesn't come with an instruction book for the best of times, never mind the worst. Then we find when we're struggling the most ourselves, but still want to protect our children and give them the best we can in every possible way... oofh... those are emotions that we just never prepare for. Writing this series, I could feel Florence's pain. Sometimes being a parent means having to make a decision when both decisions suck, and it means facing your darkest fears and still having to smile for the sake of your child. For all these reasons, this series will always be close to my heart, even though it's wrecked it at times. lol

Coming Up Blank was also very challenging to write at times. It was just the unfairness of it all. Now, granted, we are not battling zombies in real life (just people with the brain capacity of zombies, which isn't fun either 😊) but there was a lot to relate to and empathize with here. Coming of age stories always get me, but showing these children coming of age in such a tragic time was really difficult to do at times.

🍥 What's your favorite fic you've written?

This is SUCH a hard question, because these stories are our babies, and we love them for different reasons. I have a very long list of personal favorites on my masterlist - it's long - and it's probably not up to date. Sometimes I no longer consider a work a favorite, but it could be back again one day - it's all subjective.

But off the top of my head I'd have to say Delaying the Inevitable. It was a huge endeavor and really a labor of love. I adore the story because it's not a simple love triangle, it's about love in all forms. It's about the ghosts from the past that haunt us and hold us prisoner until we set ourselves free, and its about forgiveness, redemption, and finding happiness again. Nothing else I've written compares to it, so it's really in a class of it's own.

But there are others that are very special to me and I consider them favorites as well. Some more dramatic fare would be Forever (OH, Ethan/MC), ...and I needed you to know (OH, Tobias Carrick), and Things Unsaid (Tobias/Casey). All are about the downside of love, which is pain. I was listening to a podcast with the TLOU creators and he had a line I'll never forget. Once you chose to love in any way, it ensures 100% that you will experience heart wrenching pain. It's true, their is no escaping it, and even in the pain, there is beauty, and I love exploring that. (Which is why A Mother's Journal above is on this list too.)

But there are lighter/happier things that are amongst my favorites too. Rather than ramble longer, I'll put my Personal Favorites list here, but a quick glance and, yeah, I need to update it! lol

Thanks so much for the asks, Dani! And have a lovely week as well!

[khodorkovskaya]

17.04.23

i keep manifesting B, i can't deal with this anymore! and it feels like my fault, but in reality it's just that our city is small and we hang out in the same areas so ofc there's a big chance of us bumping into each other every now and then. but still...

my zurich friend came into town this weekend and we went to church together for easter and it was fun. there's something so intimate about going to church with someone, don't you think? like sometimes i go to church and there's a person praying or lighting a candle and it feels like you're looking at something you're not supposed to look at. like prayer is such an intimate thing. and during the easter service there were so many people and we were all standing there, some people humming to the hymns of the choir or whispering to themselves or exclaiming "he has risen" and it was such a funny sensation. (the lady standing next to me was singing soooo out of tune lol! i was like girlie we're all passionate about jesus here but let me listen to the choir plsss!)

we left at 2am because i was sleepy and i felt bad bc i told my friend that i thought a lot during the ceremony and he asked me if it was positive or negative thoughts and i said positive bc like duhh he has risen! and he said that he thought a lot too but for him it was negative thoughts. and i feel like maybe he wanted to talk but i was too tired and stupid to ask him to elaborate, so he didn't. and we walked in silence for a bit. idk maybe he wanted to talk...? so i suggested we go for coffee the following day but he couldn't make it. i feel like a bad friend and i really hope he's okay.

we also talked a lot on telegram and he told me he enjoys writing. and i was like oh me too!!! like idk it's such a surprise to me whenever i meet people who like writing. but at the same time, although i identify as like a person who enjoys writing, i never write. the only thing i write is well... this blog. and it's not really writing writing, is it? i can't remember the last time id written like a proper story. my friend said he wants to write about his trip to poland and id be very interested to read that. his polish trip does sound very intriguing.

then i thought about what if i were to write something about my recent trips. and my trip around the balkans in 2019 came to mind. it's one of my favourite memories i have to say. but it wouldn't make a great story. because it wasn't like thought provoking or anything, nothing really happened, i just had fun and that's it. i guess i could write a descriptive text about like the mountains and the views or whatever, but that wouldn't be an interesting read. and tbh the moment i remember the most vividly from that trip is uhhh having the best sex of my life with B. and that could be a fun descriptive text, like i could compare it to the texture of velvet and the colour purple and the taste of that armenian walnut jam with purple walnuts that look like geodes, you know the one im talking about. i could come up with all kinds of metaphors.

so i was walking thru the train station on my way to the tram, thinking about the things that feel like being in love with B in sarajevo did. i started to miss it a bit. and then i got on the tram, turned around and... there he was.

i saw him walking out of the train station and at first i thought it was some random guy who looked like an uglier version of B. in my head i was like "ooo he kinds looks lik- ohHHH". he got a haircut, so his hair didn't look as bad as the last time i saw him. but something about his facial expression and his stride... idk he looked so mean. he had this arrogant air about him, as if someone had just told him off and he was making that face of "ugh fuck off, im so much better than you". like the way he caried himself gave off such "im better than you" vibes and his facial expression was very mean. idk, like i said, he looked like an ugly version of himself. i didn't pay attention to what he was wearing but he had his backpack with him. and it was the backpack that made me realise it was him.

i waved at him from the tram and he looked me in the eye and idk if he didn't see me or just ignored me.

and i was a bit disappointed. bc like i was really getting into the having sex with him in sarajevo memory and i thought maybe i could think about it again before bed today. but now his ugly face is ingrained into my brain and i can't think about sarajevo anymore. i need to hang out with more hot people so that i could at least sexually fantasise about someone. like im in my twenties, come on, why are my options so limited???

[spectre-writes]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

Thank you! Um... now I actually have to think...

Low Profile

My first trigun fic (written while stampede was still airing) so I've got a lot of fondness for this one. Basically Vash getting himself into trouble sneaking off to help a town's plant and the gang coming to the rescue, which is a fun little premise, and Wolfwood being all angsty about it.

Sometimes it's not only glass

My second trigun fic lol, but I enjoy putting Vash through the wringer, and it also gave me a little more confidence writing from his pov. Just, you know, thinking about July and what particular triggers it could leave him with.

Gaining ground

Ah Overwatch... my biggest obsession for seven whole years. I'm still sad how the game's been treated (and not please with Blizz as a whole). But man does it have some interesting characters. And, look, I know Junkrat is always played as a joke in canon, but the guy grew up in a nuclear wasteland and has zero clue how to function in regular society. He's twenty-five, he never learned the morals we take for granted, he's dysfunctional, paranoid, obnoxious, he wants friends but has no idea how to make them, I want to study him like a bug?

So yeah I wrote about him joining Overwatch and D.Va and Lucio realizing he's around their age and inviting him to play video games? And him somehow having to navigate all of that and figure out what it is he wants?

It's my longest fic, and I have a bunch of side-fics for it too from other character's povs. Just... very fond of this fic/series as a whole, and I do want to finish it eventually.

No face but my own

Borderlands is such a comfort game series to me. I poured a lot into this fic, but sadly it never got much attention (which I think is probably largely to do with the fact it's a gen fic following a dlc character for an older game).

At the time, I was going through a bout of depression, and I hadn't written for a long time. Was feeling like maybe writing just wasn't something I had the ability to do anymore. But, I started writing this one as little snippets. Just a few unconnected paragraphs for scenes. And slowly it began to grow.

Timothy Lawrence is like... a mess. Like, such a mess. But that was what resonated with me, and honestly pouring out the sense of stagnation and listlessness and the lack of control over your own life, the bitterness and self-loathing, not wanting to die but not feeling like you're living either, losing touch with a craft that had used to be special to you...

Putting all of that to paper was cathartic. I mean, I never had full body plastic surgery, got disfigured by my boss and then trapped on a casino full of people trying to kill me for seven years, but it's more about the emotions? This fic was kinda personal so I'm sentimental over it.

A Different Number

I'll be real with you... Detroit: Become Human is not a good game. It's even a problematic game. But I'm an absolute sucker for androids?

RK900 doesn't really exist as a character (he gets a few seconds screen time in one route ending) but the general fandom interpretation of him is as this cool, big bad Conner who's meaner and more cold/logical than his predecessor. But I figured... let's make him a little ridiculous.

He wasn't around for the uprising, history has already happened and he's the most advanced model ever made but no one needs him, and every single human keeps mistaking him for Connor. He's got massive feelings of inadequacy comparing all he's done (nothing) to all the other androids have done, and the fact he's always in someone else's shadow, paired with a massive ego from being 'better' than them (which he clings to cos it's all he has that's noteworthy).

He's petty and immature and he carries a potted plant around with him to murder scenes because he can't let his coworker assassinate it but can't let him win by leaving it at home. It's just a really fun personality to write?

[lovelygirlinbleu]

Thoughts & comments on HIMYF 2x02 maybe with analysis bc I’m bored 

(this is 3 weeks old and I wanted to rewatch the episode to see if it was really that bad but that's just too much)

the episode was weird and long and I feel like it was a filler episode but who knows 

Sophie, Sid and Ellen centered with Val, Jesse and Charlie as supporters

humor was good sometimes

C Plot: Ellen & Charlie are a wonderful duo and I love how supportive Charlie is

I feel like sometimes they stop to early before they go the maximum with the humor and THAT’S annoying 

I was very excited for some chaos in that plot but nothing really happend 

but I liked the neighbours and the effort tho 

and I hope they reappear 

Rachel was cute but she’s also a lot like Ellen we’ll seee

B Plot: Sid is like the perfect character fr 

I mean he has some flaws but he still manages to be such a good character I love how Sophie narrates him :D 

It’s like she really adores him he’s just such a good person

I’m a little bit afraid where this is going to lead because I have some thoughts about him, Jesse and Meredith from this episode ( for another post lol) 

I have said this last season and I’m saying this now again: Not a fan of them trying to create a villain out of Meredith

that’s just lazy writing 

in my opinion a character like Meredith is very much needed on this show and she could be a perfect grey character

If she don’t love Jesse, dating him is very nasty and what she said was also very mean but turning down the proposal I fully support

Jesse might be one of the worst written characters in this series universe

I always feel extremly bad about my thoughts but he is written so bad 

or maybe I didn’t connect or don’t understand his character ? 

He’s always compared with Ted but honestly I lowkey liked Ted after multiple rewatches because I can somehow understand his motivations and why he’s acting the way he is

I love those little parallels with sidphie:(

I would love to write something about them but I don’t even know where to start 

but I love Sophies and Sids dynamic and how they can go from banters to caring and being concerned about each other and everything still feeling natural 

the crumb in front of the Pemperton’s was cute 

A Plot: What is wrong with you Sophie lmao

she’s just so chaotic and from what I’ve heard this is not the end of her liabetes  

I need more of Valentina she really felt too much like the sidekick best friend and I know it’s supposed to be like that but I would’ve loved to hear one thought about her break up or life in general

I hate how Sophie was comparing herself to Meredith idk 

I have no connection to Meghan Trainor but I think she was cute guest star 

 Some other thoughts

Up until last weeks premiere I never understood why people were always talking about how different future Sophie is from present Sophie and I never questioned it or cared to rethink this

But everyone is so right last week made me realize this but this week present Sophie had some future Sophie vibes 

I guess she is just developping into that person 

The extreme is still missing I mean I see what they are trying to do with Sophie now but it has to be crazier

also I thought that future Sophie is 50 ? or that ist 2050 ? but she said that she turned 40 last year which doesn’t make sense at all with present Sophie turning 30 in 2022? 

Can someone tell me what I missed

I realized that it’s really hit or miss with Ellen. I mean I love her energy like I said last week and think she’s an entertaining character BUT the jokes ... last week they were great but this week hmm

[protagonistheavy]

Very likely my last Pokemon SV post until any DLC comes out worthwhile to comment upon. I've now wrapped up all main storylines, and I have to announce that even including this final fourth storyline, I am deeply unimpressed.

The Area Zero plotline had a lot of potential, and leading up to its climax, I was admittedly getting into it, but that hype very quickly faded once I realized that this was it -- this is all it was. Story-wise, Area Zero is just a long descent into a big hole with only a handful of scripted non-trainer battles, culminating with one big battle that, yet again, failed to really challenge me beyond figuring out the weaknesses of then-unseen pokemon.

What I've concluded also is that Arven is just, the main character lol. If this was not a game with a customizable player character, if this was a more traditional narrative, then Arven would plainly be the main character. He's the only one out of every character to have any depth, or really anything going on that's compelling. A dying dog, missing parent, these are the bare bones of an interesting character plot. I feel bad that Arven has this whole emotional journey, but it's the player standing where Arven should be, doing the things Arven should be doing. I see now why everyone likes Arven so much, and it's because he's the only one with anything happening that matters.

I was really jazzed about having some NPC friends running along with me, but it's a shame that they only follow you for just that segment. It felt like a missing piece to the rest of the game was finally found -- friendship!! But unfortunately its a very underwhelming effect, too little too late. You barely get a couple double-battles with these guys, let alone a meaningful battle; Penny and Nemona provide almost nothing for being there since it's only Arven that has any personal stakes. I would have loved to enjoy their company, and given a chance to see them more fleshed out, when I was playing the main game and running around the world -- maybe they could have accompanied you on a few segments, traveled with you between two cities or landmarks. I guess it's good we get as little as we did.

And then the plot itself with Area Zero, intriguing but not thrilling. Perhaps it could have made me more curious if these mysteries were better elaborated on earlier, and not reserved for the final 30 minutes of the game. Overall I guess I don't even have much to say because the plot itself just isn't substantial. There's no compelling argument for the professor's mindset, to effectively destroy the ecosystem by taking pokemon out of other times... There's some concept of creating a "paradise" but that just seems like a generic motivation, this fantasy concept that somehow it would just, work out all right, when there's nothing to convince neither the player nor the professor that such could be accomplished. I'm left very confused about why any of this needed to happen.

So uh overall a nice effort but I really don't get how people are calling this the best plot in a Pokemon game. Where does that really come from? Because I found nothing story-wise in this game to be that fascinating. None of the characters spoke to me, none of the mysteries felt satisfying, none of the dramas were exciting. When I compare this story to previous Pokemon games, I see a lot of the same usual plotlines and tropes, spread out without good direction -- paced poorly as a result of open-world game design, three distinct storylines divided from one another because it cant predict when you might trigger certain event flags. So rather than one cohesive railroad of a story, you're given the flat pieces of that same story scattered across a big, empty map -- still written in a way that expects you to follow a logical trail, but theyve given you the option to fuck up it up if you really want to.

I'm left feeling like Sun and Moon were still the last "real" Pokemon games. On so many levels, it feels like that gen just simply did better, with more interesting characters and more memorable moments. I cant help but feel that people are hyping up SV's story mostly as a way to combat criticism of how lame the gameplay is or how glitchy the experience is. And it's true that the story has some charm, but when I think of Sun and Moon, I can think of so many more moments that had my attention grabbed, whereas I just finished SV and I struggle to remember almost anything from my journey that wasn't a complaint.

[allcirclesvanish]

i thought she knew but apparently my mom had no idea that the reason i'm so cagey around social media is that i was targeted for harassment over mlp fanart of all things. someone reposted my art to a kiwi farms thread for bad/embarrassing tumblr posts, and even though there are clearly stated guidelines against "cow tipping," it didn't stop people from harassing me and reposting my art to other websites in order to invite more harrassment from people who sent me some of the most vile things i've ever seen in my life. everything from suicide baiting to simulated cp to people eating feces and animals fucking... because i drew cringe fanart with a message about mental health (one of a set of similarly benign pieces of fanart with positive messages written underneath). my punishment for being cringe was having people dig up dirt about my life to taunt me with, and to threaten me, and to trigger ptsd responses until i finally gave up and deleted all of my art and everything else i could find about my life online.

it was very easy to target me for emotional responses because i used to post a lot about my life and my art online. it's been years and i've gotten better about practicing personal safety online but it's extremely hard for me to meet people or put myself out there at all. i've tried 5 or 6 times to restart my art blog, hoping that i'll make other artist friends, but it never lasts because i start to panic thinking about what if people harrass me and send me horrible things again. it only lasted a few weeks, which is nothing compared to the harassment campaigns i've seen against other people... this latest iteration of my art blog is the longest lasting one so far, but it's still kind of an emotionally daunting thing every time i want to post. i draw so much more than i actually update and i have to take long breaks from it because i need everything i post to pass this invisible and poorly defined bar in my mind of "will somebody have such a problem with this that they'll feel like they need to send me self harm photos over it." it changed my relationship to art forever. it turned me into an unbearable perfectionist who barely finishes anything. it damaged my ability to trust people. it really changed my life for years in just a matter of weeks.

i hadn't even heard of kiwi farms before this happened... i started visiting the site more regularly and grew a sort of fascination with them. i'm particularly interested in this contradictory place they hold in people's minds as an authority on truth and a hub of degeneracy. thinking especially of callouts that get reposted with sources from kiwi farms; how many times have you seen the line "yes, i know it's kiwi farms (ew) but the information is solid!"

like even if individual screenshots are undoctored and posted with full context (lol) i have rarely seen anyone asking whether it's morally questionable to repost personal information without consent, or to refer people back to a website like kiwi farms. even if they don't technically promote harrassment, they still stalk people in order to collect information about them. it's the point of the site. and their surveillance is just as much about punishment for perceived wrongs as it is about entertainment. if a cow is coerced into change after being posted to kiwi farms, that is broadly considered a win by the community.

being posted even briefly did change my life, but i think the biggest change was in my own thinking. for me it was an early insight into the dangers of surveillance and callout culture. even if i wasn't being "called out" for "problematic" behavior, it wasn't hard to make the connection between my experience and the experiences of people who are routinely harassed and targeted for kinks or privately held beliefs or for making jokes years in the past that reflect views they obviously no longer hold. also not hard to see how this appetite for entertainment at the expense of others could be easily co-opted (say by corporations or the government) in order to seed distrust in communities and promote narratives that align with the interests of capital!

anyway when people talk about their concerns of kiwi farms radicalizing its user base i don't think they ever envisioned a kiwi to communist pipeline lol

[snappleapple]

their favorite types of kisses

people in this - dream, georgenotfound, sapnap, wilbur, punz, jschlatt, awesamdude, quackity

headcanon!

the most disgusting fluff i’ve ever written

warning - cursing, i think that’s all but if there is more please do not hesitate to tell me :)

word count - 2k

a/n: okay okay, i might’ve lied earlier about that being my last post but this was short and easy to make which is why i would like to feed my readers this early haha. anyways, enjoy and please disregard the errors in this post, i hate proof reading anything lol. also, i’ve been very indecisive on the title and i might change it later and ooh, my masterlist will be made soon. i’ve just been feeling very unproductive these days. also, please put in requests, i am so bored and dumb therefore there are no ideas in this brain. and if you’d like a part 2, i might add more people for the part 2!anyways, peace!

dream -

i get the feeling that dream’s favorite type of kisses would be cheek kisses

he just likes to watch as you struggle to reach his height

“aw look at those little legs do their thing.”

ends up with you not giving him his kiss

and mans becomes SO pouty

“y/n…come on. don’t be this way.” :(

if you don’t kiss him on the cheek, will also become SO clingy and whiny

“why won’t you KISS ME!”

clenches his fists and stomps away like a teenage girl during puberty

slamming the door to your room

so then you have to go and give him all the kisses he wants

his face is slammed into your pillow

you sit on the side of the bed and pet his hair

leading him to stare up at you with puppy dog eyes

“i will give you all the kisses you want. so stop being so pouty, you big baby.”

will literally leave zero feet of space between you and him

taps his cheek to tell you he wants kisses

when you go on dates, will literally make you stand on your tippy toes to get his kisses

does not bend down at all and actually lifts his head higher to tease you

in other words, clingy but rude hoe

george -

george is a classic romantic

he loves just lip kisses

pecks or lingering ones

he doesn’t care

mans don’t need too many kisses

nor does he need to be too clingy

total opposite of dream and sapnap *ahem clingy ahem*

if he wants a kiss,

he will come over to you and get it

doesn’t get pouty if you’re busy

just waits patiently

doesn’t enjoy it when you interrupt him when he’s streaming so you do your own thing

when you’re watching a movie with him,

he will literally only stare at you with his cute smile

and listen to your every criticism of the movie

he likes to just peck your lips whenever he feels like it

and you’re just not surprised anymore

just likes to stare at your lips whenever you talk

overall, is very sweet but not to an extent with showing affection

sapnap -

omg

sapnap just vibes with neck kisses

it tickles his neck and he loves them

giggles when you pepper kisses along his neck and flushes a deep red

“y/n. stop.” giggles between each word

but when you do, becomes the saddest person in the whole world

“i was joking.” :(

when he’s streaming and he begins to miss you

would leave his room and find you just to get a kiss

just like dream, would get angry if you give him no kisses

“GIVE ME KISSIES!”

very amusing for you

and you love to tease him

“i don’t want to give you kissies.”

continues to stare at you with a large frown until you give in and give him kissies

lsg supremacy but i’ll get into this later hehe

you better give him kisses or you’ll be dealing with a very sad sapnap

sadnap :(

wilbur -

wilbur, wilbur, wilbur

what can i even say

total nose kiss guy

i bet he’ll boop your nose twenty four seven

asks stupid questions just to get your attention

“y/n?”

“yes wilbur?”

“is a hotdog a sandwich?”

“why-“

“boop.”

“did you just say boop while you booped my nose?”

if he’s streaming and you bring him a snack

he will hold your face still and leave kisses on your nose

not too clingy but not too distant

likes to be just right with you

if its snowy outside and your noses get red

makes dumb jokes about he is rudolph and you’re mrs. rudolph

just a lot of smooches from wilby

takes you to a lot of hidden cafes in the city

and while you read, he balances his head on his palm, staring at you in admiration

if you’re insecure about your nose, you legit can’t be around wilbur because he will go on a tangent about how beautiful it is

substantially, soft boy hours all day bro, besides when he gets mad then you leave the hormonal man tf alone

punz -

i don’t see a lot of punz on tumblr so here we go

punz loves hand kisses

not to an extent where he has a hand fetish

god no but just like

when your holding hands, he’ll occasionally pull your hand up to his lips and leave a kiss

lots of hand holding

and i mean lots

constantly gets mad fun of for being a simp but ignores those comments because he genuinely loves you so much

likes it when you play with his hair and messing it up

also likes to compare hand sizes with you

always has a hand on your thigh or your hand in his whenever he is driving somewhere with you

even when you go on dates, always holding hands

no matter how sweaty your hand gets, he will hold on

sometimes if he holds on for too long, you have to tell him to let go

“punz, my hand is super sweaty. lets take a break from the hand holding.”

would flat out decline so you would have to pry your hand out of his

he would also love it when you would kiss his hand

makes him feel all polite and precious LOL

would also wrap his pinky along yours when you walk together

he once came with you to a family gathering for christmas and was so SHY

shy boy held your hand for security while your younger siblings made fun of you

afterwards, when you were under a mistletoe, he kisses you on the lips before kissing you on his favorite part of your body,

your hand

c!jschlatt -

jschlatt is a whole mess

the first time you met, he confessed that he would hate you for as long as you lived because you made fun of his boots

now he says he still strongly dislikes you but you’re more tolerable

doesn’t like it when you make him soft and HATES it when he blushes

“why must you do this to me, mother nature?”

also “hates” it when you even touch him because he “hates” you

when he actually confessed to you that he liked you with his grumpy usual grandpa voice,

you kissed him on his forehead, after he bent down of course

he is an actual giant and threatens to squash you like an ant if he feels the need to

is an absolute monster to you but loves it when you kiss his forehead because it makes him feel secure and loved

likes to watch the wind blow through your hair and mess it up but gives you his hat because he like you being “all pretty and shit”

gets SUPER jealous when you hug children

like for example, when you went over to a family gathering at his house, his cousins came up to hug you

and when you let go of the child, the man child comes and lugs you over his shoulder

gets yelled at by his mom and gives her a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and throwing you down on the sofa set next to him

his mom doesn’t approve of the way he treats you but you tell her its fine because he’s cute

when you are far from any type of civilization or in the safety and solitude of your own home, he wants kisses on the forehead

pointing up to it and bending down so you could reach it

“y/n, i only love you because of your forehead kisses.”

“you only love me for my kisses?” :(

“mhm.”

actually feels slightly bad

“and because of your personality.”

“thank you-“

“shut up. we don’t talk about this.”

in conclusion, give him his forehead kisses or perish

awesamdude -

sam just adores it when you give him jawline kisses

not because it’s basically the only place you could reach but because it’s a sweet gesture

sam is all about sweetness

i mean have you even seen this man on his stream

he likes to watch you while you have conversations with your friends

not in a creepy way but more like an adoring way

cause man does he love you

i mean not only does he love you but his whole family does

and when you’re alone with sam, you love to bury him underneath all of your love

“i love you sam!”

“no i love you more y/n!”

“NO i LOVE you more!”

“NO i LOVE you MORE!”

“SAM NO. I LOVE YOU MORE!”

“okay thank you sweet pea.”

leaving you a bit confused but happy that he accepts your love

when you cuddle, omg

he never stops peppering kisses all over your face and vice versa because your relationship is disgustingly fluffy

when he lends you one of his sweatshirts, you sure as hell better wear that shit out or else (i am leaving a blank threat here)

sam loves technology but you guys sort of have a system

a system that involves mailing each other love letters rather than texting them

you guys also go on a ton of walks just about anywhere

hand holding is mandatory even though you probably look like a child compared to him

just give sam lots of love and in return, you’ll receive lots of love

quackity -

mans cannot leave you tf alone

likes to do ANYTHING freaky around you

“i will follow you to the ends of the earth, mi amor.” or

“ayy, back off.” if anyone gets too close to you

messes with you twenty four seven and makes it his job to drive you insane

plays horror games at two in the morning for fun

and when he gets scared, hides in the safety of your arms

“mi amor. i’m scared.”

“shut the fuck up and sleep, alex.”

“okay.” shuts up quickly and snuggles deeper into the crook of your neck

loves you so deeply but HATES your cat

“look at that little dumb thing stare at me. you got a problem bro?”

your cat also HATES alex

scratches him all the time and hisses at him

if you think sapnap is babie, wait till you meet alex

“y/n he bit me!”

when you glance down, you don’t even see a scratch

“kiss my boo boo.”

wtf

“what boo boo? there’s nothing there.”

gasps as if you offended him

“this boo boo that your el demonio did to me.”

this man will do anything to get boo boo kisses

istg, you once found him provoking your cat to get some scratches

in alex’s mind, ouchies = kisses from y/n

always has ouchies from god knows where and shows it to you

even though you find it annoying at first, you grow used to it and it sorta becomes your thing with alex

alex is babie and you need to take good care of him :)

[saltylandland]

Random characterization for Leona

He cares so much. Part of the reason why I relate to him so much is because I can tell that he cares as much as he tries to prove otherwise. A good parallel I see is with Jamil, Leona always felt like he was pushing down any shred of energy or ambition he has, but he radiates energy regardless. With his mindset (no matter what he does he will never win/be good enough) he has to discourage himself every day because he doesn’t want to be let down again. He stifles himself out of spite, he knows he is and can be great but it’ll never be good enough for people, so why should he try for anyone? He doesn’t want their pity (bc he believes everyone knows he’s fighting a losing game) but In contrast Jamil has to stifle himself, his talents and ambition. It feels like Jamil is legitimately tired but Leona is only pretending to be tired. ‘fake it til you make it I suppose’.

He loves his family, but the resentment he’s built makes it hard to talk to them. Due to the purposeful hate from the servants but there was also probably some damaging habits done from his family. You don’t have to be an evil mastermind to hurt or abuse someone. A lot of abusers don’t recognise the damage they do for one reason or the other. (another thing I can relate to) regardless I think he definitely has self sabotaging thoughts especially when it comes to his family. Also keeping up with a little kid is exhausting lol, especially when you don’t like kids. Especially when you see that kid grow up with everything you ever wanted (load of attention, praise, love) it’s more visceral watching that happen a second time, not just to your brother. (also it strangely reminds me of those situations, say you grow up with an emotionally absent father/mother, maybe they were not ready to be a parent so they couldn’t be there for you, whatever, right? But then when you’ve grown up you visit them and they have a completely new life, giving your younger sibling the things you had always wanted but never got, so they are capable to love like that, they just couldn’t do that for you. That is just gut wrenching right?) one thing I think that makes Leona’s backstory more tragic to me than riddles (bc they were back to back Leonas backstory and riddles are compared a lot) is that riddle had friends, and he later had them help him through all this shit as he is becoming better and recognising the trauma his mother put him through. Leona had and has nothing, ruggie isn’t his friend and considering he’s freaking 20, the self sabotaging habits have probably set in a long time ago. Which means he’s definitely self isolated from anyone that could have helped. Plus he’s a prince so it’s not like making friends would be easy even if he had a good childhood. It’s also a lot harder to see a grown adult act spitefully then watch a child break down sobbing. Not to mention chapter 2 was so badly handled and written.

He values emotional and mental strength not just physical strength [going on a lil side tangent, I know the reasons why they made beastwomen physically stronger than the men but I don’t like how that was the default? Nothing wrong with physically strong women but that still petuates the belief that the only valuable strength is traditionally masculane traits like physical power and stubbornness, and twst is just a small example hollywood in general has a huge problem with this, why does any ‘strong female character’ need to always display masculane traits in order to be recognised as strong?] Even as an emotionally stunted character that he is, I think he begrudgingly (and secretly) admires those who still manage to be kind even though the majority of his brain thinks that person is just foolish. Also we all know that he values strategy just as much as physical strength.

He is kind. Despite the fact that he’s a classic tsundere, he has never really fought anyone unless he’s provoked? He’s more of a ‘scare them off’ kind of guy and he avoids using excessive force (for lots of other reasons that aren’t from the kindness from his heart, yes, but still) and he’s generous. Weirdly it’s kind of the same criticism aimed at Lottie from the princess and the frog? The ‘rich person won’t give their money to their poor friend and has them work for them ):|’ But do you really think ruggie would take handouts? Yeah I think that ruggie does way too much for leona but ruggie is the one who benefits from it. That’s how ruggie makes easy money, by picking up after leona lol

I'll definitely add more to this list as I think of more, this is just the tip of the iceberg hooooo boi. 

Also if you disagree or have more to add feel free to tell me in an ask! Just be respectful please!

[void-inked-pen]

Pen and Fanfics

I am... very particular about my fanfics.

when I want a fanfic about a specific character, I tend to hunt stuff down meticulously, trial run reading chapters of what people have written already, and compare that to what the fandom seems to take an interest in.

case and point: I feel like people have a very low bar for what they can read sometimes cause so many most liked or most read fics... are kinda just... bad? (that is just my opinion, I am not throwing shade I swear)

I am also an adult, and a lot of these stories are written by teenagers just getting into creative writing and stuff and that's totally fine! a lot of the more... eloquent fics out there are written by more experienced writers who have people to beta and understand the basics of good storytelling.

this is not to say anything that I've written is "incredible", a lot of my shit is not. I look back at Time Ticks By and compare it to some of the stuff I'm working on rn and LET ME TELL YOU THERE IS A NOTICABLE CURVE OF WRITING ABILITY KSJFHSKJFH.

Time Ticks By was a fic I started working on in college for a friend of mine who wanted more Mikey angst so I started brainstorming and brought up the concept to them. After that I just wrote the fic for the two of us, gradually building up chapters and throwing the turtles into some pretty interesting stuff. Then... after a while, I decided to post it.

That fic, was the first one I ever posted. one of my other friends graciously beta'd it for me as I went on (at one point they downright eviscerated a chapter and I am very thankful for the brutality but I was wrecked after that day lol). But as I look back at that fic I have noticed some interesting changes in my writing. My chapters are longer, I'm much more descriptive and meticulous with my wording, I avoid tropes as much as I can by describing a character's reaction by saying "the blonde", "the redhead", "the purple masked turtle", etc. when trying to avoid just saying the characters name (tho I still fall into that habit I'm avoiding it pretty well).

When I compare the way I am currently writing Let's Switch, my BNHA Kirishima-centric fic to Time Ticks By, my Rise of the TMNT fic, I can tell I've improved immensely.

That might be why I'm a bit iffy with continuing TTB, because the writing is outdated for me regardless of the fact I do want to finish it someday soon.

there's also the fact that my motivation for Let's Switch is... out of spite.

IDK why but when spite is in the mix for me, I get more motivated. Let's Switch is literally a non-romantic story that throws Kirishima into a situation that canon would never do because he's not a main character. I've seen sooooooo many fics where the angst is focused on Bakugou and Kiri is a supporting role, or if there IS an angsty story about him it's related to their ship or things like his depression. Those fics that actually focus on him specifically are so few and so short it irritates me.

I like long-ass fics okay! if a fic isn't over 20k I get mad because I WANT more long form stories! I wanna see Kirishima take the main character role for once and have it NOT related to romance! Romance is fine on some days but for fucks sake I just wanna read a story where my sunshine boy gets WRECKED and it has nothing to do with his attraction to his friend!

that's how Let's Switch was born.

out of me being frustrated at the lack of angst for Kirishima. Similarly to how TTB was started because my friend wanted angst for Mikey.

So yes, I have a very complicated relationship with fics. especially at the lack of my favs having anything. I am primarily a reader outside of animation so the fact that I got THIS frustrated and decided to work on my own story just to satisfy my own cravings, means I was pushed hard!

Thank you for reading my rant, if you know of any other Kirishima-centric fics where there is no romance, would love to see it. Otherwise, I'm out.

PEACE!

[btsxmalereaders]

☆ Even in zero gravity, I would still fall for you!

♡ pairing — bang chan x male reader

> genre — fluff | f2l

> word count — 4.3k I don't know how this happened

> summary — chan realises he likes you by not being able to use pickup lines on you

> a/n — i saw a tiktok where chan says he's gonna use a pickup line on felix and my love-deprived self ended up writing this lol i hope you all like it

| 05282021

| Please keep making more whosfan accounts and keep streaming WOLFGANG on the correct platforms!

"Hey, how you doin'?" Chan casually says as he enters the kitchen, trying not to grin and start giggling right away. He even places his hands over the table and tilts his head a little in an attempt to look confident. Felix takes his attention away from the food he is cooking and turns on his feet to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Good?" He answers with an air of suspicion. "Why?"

Chan finally lets out a small giggle, "Oh nothing, I was just thinking that... I am not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together."

And Felix thinks it's a creative pickup line, funny even, but what ends up making him laugh is the way his best friend bends over to start laughing louder and the way his cheeks turn reddish at the embarrassment he's probably feeling.

"That was a good one, I must say," He chuckles. "Not as great as the Optimus Fine one, though. Even if it made you laugh for ten minutes after you said it."

And Chan can only laugh harder at the remembrance, placing his hands over his slightly aching abdomen and gasp for air when he can't handle it anymore. Felix giggles as well and denies with his head, going back to stir what's on the pot.

"Stays keep getting creative when it comes to flirting with you," He speaks again as the laughter finally dies down. "They probably think you might use it on someone you like, and you're here almost crying because you use them on us."

Chan hums, "Well, I don't really like anyone right now."

Felix turns off the stove and makes a -dramatic- pause, turning again to face Chan as he gets closer and squints his eyes. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Chan laughs. "Why would I lie?"

"I don't know, but I don't buy it. Maybe it's the love songs you have as drafts in your laptop."

"Ah, that doesn't mean I'm in love," He explains and takes a seat in front of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "That's why they're still drafts, though. They don't convey the feeling of being in love because I am not in love, you know?"

"Good point, but it still doesn't convince me."

"Why?" He asks again with a chuckle, a little embarrassed by the sudden interest in his - nonexistent - love life. "You know our activities barely give us time for ourselves, so it's almost impossible to have a relationship with someone. At least a formal one."

"You can still like someone and not be with them." Felix shrugs. "So spill it. Who is it?"

And Chan knows he's just messing around with him, but he can't help but feel flustered. "No one! I think so." He almost says it in a whisper; however, Felix doesn't comment on it.

"I still want to listen to those drafts," He stands up and smiles. "Why don't you show me?"

This was not the way Chan expected the conversation to go, so he hesitates a bit about his friend's request. Well, it wasn't unusual anyway, at least Changbin had heard a couple and also helped in the composition of the songs, so having someone else hear them wouldn't hurt. He might even listen to ideas on his part to improve them.

"Okay, I can do that. Next week Y/N will come to the studio and work on something, why don't you pop-up at some point and I can show you?"

Felix nods, "Sounds good! Y/N asked for help for his new album?"

"Yeah, he wants me to listen to some tracks he has been working on." He casually comments, taking his phone from his pocket and leading his attention to the device, so now Felix can't see the slight blush on his cheeks.

"Hm, I haven't seen him in a while. Why hasn't he come to the dorm lately? We should invite him."

"He has been busy with his album, that's why. If you think I leave late from the studio, that's nothing compared to him, he truly spends an ungodly amount of time there."

"So you see him often?" Felix asks with sudden interest, now being aware of how Chan's ears are tinted pink.

"You could say that, yeah. He also spends time on my studio whenever he has the chance. And vice-versa." He shrugs, not finding it odd. You two were really good friends, so it was a normal thing for you to do. "Why?"

"Nothing, I was just curious." He mischievously laughs. "So, next week, you said?"

After a quick glance at the time on your phone, you decide to stand up and stretch your body. It's been a long time since you started working, and you still have a lot to do; and on top of it all, the progress you've made tonight doesn't totally convince you, and that just meant you'd be spending more time in the studio.

As you take your phone again to read your notes, a notification pops up on the top. You weren't supposed to meet up with Chan until later, but in the new message you just received, he tells you that he's free from working on his stuff and you could go earlier if you wanted.

You decide to go; after all, it was nearly impossible for you to concentrate again, and you truly needed to know what does he think about the tracks you sent him a few days ago to finally make an advance. So you grab your laptop after making sure you've saved the changes and the cup of half-drunk coffee, walking out to the long hall and taking the elevator to an upper floor.

The soles of your shoes are dragged across the floor all the way to the studio's door, where you softly knock a couple of times before remembering you already know the password to enter. Your fingers press the buttons, entering code you know by heart at this point, and the door quickly unlocks, making Chan to look your way and greet you with a smile.

"Hey, how have you been?" He sweetly says, seeing you entering the room and placing your belongings on top of the big desk in front of you and taking a seat on the couch behind him.

"Busy. And tired." You murmur and let out a sigh. Chan immediately plays a song at a low volume and takes seat next to you.

"You're still struggling with the track you told me about?"

You nod as an answer and pout, "I am desperate. It's like, no matter how many times I rewrite the lyrics or change the beats, it still doesn't convince me at all and I hate it."

"I get it," He sighs. "But don't worry about it, I'm here to help you out."

And Chan isn't someone who breaks his promises, so the following hours are spent listening to your music, carefully reading everything you've written so far, listening to your ideas and giving you advice.

In between work, he tells you every other joke to make you laugh and feel at least a bit less stressed; and it works wonderfully since he has a long list of dad jokes that take you off guard, plus his laughter is contagious, so not laughing with him is impossible.

It's no surprise that his advice and opinions are so accurate to the point of clearing your mind and helping you out of your creative block. Chan has always been hard-working and so good with words that every time you engage him in conversations, you feel more relaxed and less burdened. No matter what situation you had a problem with, Chan would always help you find the best solution for it. Maybe that's why you admire him so much, maybe it was one of the many reasons why you didn't hesitate for a second to go to him and find security in his presence and words... Maybe it was one of the thousands of reasons why you had romantic feelings towards him...

"Is it better now?" His voice takes you out of your thoughts. He's sweetly smiling at you; he probably realized you got lost on the way his lips were moving as he told you his thoughts on the recent draft of your song.

"Yeah, yes, honestly, you've helped me so much. I don't know what I'd do without you." You smile and go for a quick hug, taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair. Your fingers sliding between his soft and messy curls and making him fondly smile in the process. "You're my hero. I mean it."

Chan chuckles and can't keep his eyes off you as you type something on your laptop and hum. He recalls the conversation he had last week with Felix, and that ambiguous feeling settling on his chest makes him wonder if, after all, his friend was right. He doesn't remember when was the last time he felt the urge to hold someone in between his arms and dearly appreciate, and he wants to know why he smiles and feels his stomach tickling when he sees you.

Maybe it's because you spend a lot of time with him, a voice inside his head says. But he doesn't feel this way with any other friend.

Maybe it's because you have known him for a long time and you just appreciate him a lot, the voice tries again. Maybe. He finally gives in at the last thought. He'd have to figure it out.

His phone buzzes inside the pocket of his jeans and he takes it, knowing for sure it's a message from Felix.

"Felix is arriving in a few minutes." He murmurs, making you take your eyes off the screen. "He wants to listen to some songs I have, is that okay?"

"Of course, it's your studio, silly." You giggle. "I am almost done with this, so if you're gonna be busy I can go back to m-"

"You can stay, if you want to." He quickly adds. "Plus, he says he wants to see you, you know... He misses you." Chan laughs. He wasn't lying, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted you to stay.

"Okay! Sure, I haven't heard from him in a while, either." You nod and keep making changes on the file you have open.

Just as he said, Felix enters the room just a few minutes later, smiling brightly and immediately running to give you a big hug once he sees you.

Soon, the room was filled with laughter and long conversations to catch up on everything around your lives. Felix tells you about the new pastries he baked last week and that he was waiting for you to come around and bake with him, the new video game Jeongin bought and has been playing with Hyunjin, the new songs Changbin and Jisung have been working on and how Seungmin was learning to play piano, playing songs at night for everyone at the dorm.

"And you know? Chan hyung has gotten better at flirting." He laughs as the latter gives him a threatening glare. "He can't stop saying pickup lines whenever he has the chance."

"Ah, really?" You chortle. "You haven't said one in all the time we've been here."

"Well, we've been working, and I've told you many other jokes... Besides, it's not like I come up with them out of nowhere."

"Yes, you do!" Felix says. "You do that all the time, what are you talking about?"

You glance at Chan, who's currently blushing and at the loss of words. Felix, on the other hand, seems to be happy to see what he just provoked. And he'd definitely enjoy every part of it.

"I want to hear one! C'mooon!" You laugh. "Please?"

Chan rolls his eyes and tries to look confident as he would normally do. He clears his throat and thinks of a good pickup line he hasn't used yet.

"Alright," He says and smiles, he even thinks it's gonna start laughing before even opening his mouth, but the very moment he looks into your eyes, it's like he forgot every single word on his vocabulary. "Uhm, are you, no. Did you-? Wait! I forgot what I was gonna say-"

Felix can't help but burst into laughter, and you only look at him, as if you couldn't believe it. Was he nervous or was it because of the fact that Felix was in the same room? Would it have been any different if he weren't there?

You end up laughing at Felix's loud laughter, as well as seeing Chan blushing up to his ears and hiding his face behind his hands, probably also in an attempt to cover the huge grin he now has.

"Wow, that was an epic failure. And I thought you were the biggest flirt on earth." Felix teases him, to which Chan ends up groaning.

He continues talking about other stuff while Chan stops feeling embarrassed, even though he's not able to look in your eyes for the entire time until you have to go back to work.

You close your laptop and stand up, throwing the now empty cup of coffee on the trash bin. After thanking Chan for his help and promising Felix you'd drop by their dorm soon, you walk out of the studio with a smile and feeling your heart beating fast. There was no way you didn't have feelings for him.

"Oh my god, so I was right!" Felix says a few seconds after you left. Chan's first instinct is to cover his face again. "Look who got nervous so suddenly."

"Stop, I- I don't even want to talk about it." He murmurs, feeling flustered and avoiding Felix's gaze. He types something on his laptop and presses the play button, hoping that this way, his friend would forget about what just happened and could focus solely on the music.

And Felix doesn't talk about it anymore. The next few minutes are set by the music coming out of the speakers; the room filling with Chan's voice, singing the love songs that probably no one else would listen to. Felix seems to be concentrating on the lyrics, but Chan's thoughts are solely about you. As he listens to the songs, he is aware of how his skin bristles every time his hands accidentally touch you, the times when your eyes connect with his and you give him smiles every time it happens, all those times when his heart would race when he hugged you.... It's as if all those songs that professed a love he said he didn't feel, started to make sense.

He feels overwhelmed. Maybe if he was aware of it before, maybe if he listened to his heart instead of his head, this wouldn't be a big revelation to him.

Chan pauses the music, and before Felix can ask what's going on, he speaks up: "Why- why did I do that?"

"Did... what, exactly?" Felix asks, confused.

"The pickup line thing!" He blurts out. "I mean, I do that all the time, right? Why did I just forget how to even talk?"

Felix giggles, "Well, have you considered it's because when you use those pickup lines on us you just do it for laughing? To joke around with us, and with Y/N it's because... I don't know, you have feelings for him and it gets real? Like you're flirting with him."

Makes sense, he thinks. He remains in silence for a moment, processing everything that just happened and finally connecting the dots.

"Wait, you just had your epiphany?" Felix jokes. "It took you too, too long."

"I can barely fall asleep, how was I supposed to know I was falling in love?"

"Fair enough." He says, comprehensive. "Are you telling him?"

"Should I?" Chan's eyes sparkle, but he still feels confused. Should he even try? It's been so long since he last felt this way about someone, and given the circumstances of his life as an idol, he felt more reluctant to take the next step. Even more, considering he had just taken the first one by accepting his feelings a few minutes ago.

"I was right all this time by you being in love," He says. "And I am also sure that it's mutual. I've seen you two for a while, you know? I am surprised you didn't come the realization way earlier than this."

Chan giggles. "Alright, I get it."

"But it's up to you now, I guess. All I know is that you deserve to be happy, and you deserve good things... And Y/N is a great person. You should give yourself an opportunity on love."

Chan feels chills as he hears those words. Tonight's even have been too much for him to process, so he'll think deeply about it later.

"Okay," He nods. "Thanks, Lix. You've been really helpful."

"I know, what would you do without me?" Felix laughs. "Now let's keep listening to the songs, I am loving all of them."

Fortunately, the help Chan gave you really made it possible for you to finish the songs in no time. You are just now walking out of a meeting with your managers and the people in charge of the release of the album to set the final details, and you quickly send a message to Chan to let him know the news.

In the meantime, you drop by your studio to clean up a little and maybe write down some ideas for new songs that have been in your mind for a while. After a few minutes, you hear a knock on the door, snapping you out of your thoughts and then feeling confused. You weren't expecting anyone to come. So you slowly open the door, and a smile spreads across your face the moment you realize it's Chan.

"Oh, hi!" You greet him with a hug, immediately letting him in afterwards. He shyly gets inside, taking a seat on a chair and placing a bag on the small table behind him. "What brings you here? I thought you were still busy with you guys upcoming album."

"It's okay, Changbin is working on his stuff now at the studio, so I took the chance to come here and celebrate with you!" He grins. "Congratulations on making your first self-produced album!"

He starts clapping, making you smile; he truly was the sweetest person you've ever met.

As soon as he read your message he went to the nearby cafeteria and bought your favorite drink and pastries, claiming that it was a special occasion and should be celebrated.

"For all your hard work and the success of this album!" He makes a toast as he raises his cup of tea.

Soon you find yourselves immersed in a long conversation about everything that went into creating this album; from when you had the first idea for the concept, to those sleepless nights when he helped you without hesitation. Chan was definitely an essential part of this whole process, so to be celebrating with him right now felt right. It was how it should be.

"You know," Chan clears his throat as another song starts playing. "These past days I've had this thought in my head, and after talking it out with Felix... I am certain about it. And I want to tell you about it. I know I have to."

You frown, feeling curiosity, especially since his semblance has changed to be a bit more serious. He still has a small smile that gives you some kind of tranquility, but another part of you can't help but feel nervous as he gets a little bit closer.

"Of course, what is it?"

"So, uhm" He starts. "Some weeks ago, when Felix came to the studio and we were talking with you... Well, the reason he came was because he wanted to listen to some love songs I've worked on. And, after listening to all of them I figured out why I didn’t like them. I was sure I wasn't in love. That's why, to me, they all sounded plain and didn’t convey the feeling of love... But then..."

He makes a pause, catching his breath as he feels more and more nervous. He knows for sure his ears and cheeks are red right now, and it's impossible that you haven't noticed it. His hands slightly shake behind the table, anxiously looking for yours, but refraining from doing it because he doesn't know how this was going to end. You don't want to interrupt him, so you give him his time to clear his head and talk again.

"While listening to those songs, the only thought I had in mind was you." He finally confesses, with his gaze now fixed on his lap. "I guess that for a while I didn’t realise that I started to, uhm, catch feelings for you. And, it's okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I just really wanted to let you know because the thought has been on my mind for so long and I needed to let it out."

For a moment, the only thing that can be heard in the room is your voice coming from the speakers along with a sigh from Chan, who still didn’t dare to look up and face you.

"So... what you're saying is..." You speak up, feeling incredibly shy, trying to process the words addressed to you.

"What I am trying to say is that I am in love with you."

And you swear you could start screaming to the top of your lungs right now, but you try your very best to stay calm and finally grab Chan's hands. With that, he looks at you again.

"Channie," You softly say, looking at him in his precious eyes and dearly smiling. You don't even know where to begin, but a voice inside you begs for you to give him a hug. So you open your arms and embrace him tightly, feeling instant comfort and love. "I am so glad you feel this way too. I love you too."

Chan sighs in relief, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer; his nose pressed against the crook of your neck and closes his eyes, melting between your arms and enjoying every single second of that gesture.

"Wait a minute," You say out of nowhere, so he separates a bit from you and tilts his head. "That's why you couldn't even say a sentence when you tried to say a pickup line?"

You laugh when his expression changes to look ashamed, his lips frowned in a pout and his gaze avoiding your eyes again.

"Try again, I'm sure you're good at this." And Chan's head only comes up with the dozens of lines he has read, but seeing you smiling right in front of him and your arms over his shoulders, he can only think how lucky he is. He can't possibly say anything to you. "Alright, let me try instead."

You hum and recall all the pickup lines you've read and have been told before, "Hm, can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll return it."

And you expected Chan to start laughing out loud, instead he starts blushing again and giggling, covering his face as he feels nervous.

"C'mon! Seriously?" You laugh and wait for him to stop being shy.

"You make me nervous, give me time." He excuses himself and laughs some more. "That was a good one, and you know what? You can borrow all the kisses you want, as long as you keep your word and return them."

"See? That's what I'm talking about!"

Chan fondly smiles at you, placing his hand on your head to pet your hair for a moment. You close your eyes as he does it, feeling his soft touch traveling all the way down to your chin. He rests his thumb on your cheek and after a few seconds you decide to open your eyes.

"Can I?" He murmurs as his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips.

"You don't even have to ask."

And just as you give him permission, he breaks the distance between you two. He starts carefully, placing his lips against yours in a tender, chaste way, barely there pressure that makes you exhale through your nose as if you had been holding your breath all along. One of his hands still holds you by the waist, so he takes the opportunity to slide it to your lower back, carefully holding you and sending you shivers to your entire body.

You lean forward barely a few millimeters, but it's enough to feel more pressure over your lips. Chan angles his head and traps your bottom lip, tongue trying to dart out of his mouth to taste more of the sweetness of yours. He, however, contains himself and smiles in between the kiss, instead. He was probably gonna be the death of you.

The deep kiss loses intensity as a minute passes by, so you two end up giving smaller kisses and share smiles, your noses constantly touching in skimo kisses. And you think it's perfect; it's way better than what you one day imagined.

Chan can't miss the chance to make you sit on his lap, so now your head rests over his chest. Your fingers fidgeting the hem of his hoodie and shyly longing to intertwine your hands.

"Hey, Y/N?" He grabs your attention and smiles. "Are you a parking ticket?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Because you've got fine written all over you." He ends up with a muffled laughter.

"Oh no, what did I just get myself into?" You joke around, this time finally making him burst into a louder laughter. "You just declared war on me about pickup lines, you know?"

"Oh, so you got some lines, too? Can't wait to hear all of them, then."

And for the rest of the day you let yourself be held in between the arms of the person you loved the most. Later you'd find the way to flirt with him and make him feel flustered when he least expects it.