#a freakin ESSAY response

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Persona 5) Ann, Makoto, and Haru reaction to S/O's Palace/Shadow/Treasure

Quoth the Akihiko: "I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS"

Playing Royal on my Switch has made me in a very Persona mood so happy to oblige!

I know a lot of writers in the P5 community has done this topic, but hopefully this will still be a good read for you guys!

Post Edit A/N: Wow, Ann got an all star-treatment unintentionally. Well this is awkward since her part is the size of a freakin' essay versus Makoto and Haru. I hope Ann fans will be happy lmao

Ann didn't know what to say when she discovered S/O had a Palace. Her mind was going through so many emotions as she stared at the Metanav app. S/O had been distant sure, but she never would have suspected their troubles ran this deep.

She first investigates the Palace by herself, only staying near the entrance. After looking around as much as she could from the exterior, Ann went to find Akira.

After the group unanimously agrees to infiltrate and help Ann, she remains completely serious, her light-hearted quips and positivity being completely absent during the heist.

While she is grateful for their help, in all honesty she wishes she could have infiltrated alone. This was far too personal to involve the entire group.

Regardless, nothing could be done about it now. She would just have to grit her teeth and bare it. At least that's what Ann told herself.

Palace Infiltration

Akira led Ann, Ryuji, and Morgana down the hallways of the Palace.

Peeking around the corner, he only saw one shadow.

(Akira) "Oracle, is there anyone else in the vicinity?"

(Futaba's Voice) "Hm...No, the room's empty, barring the one there."

(Ryuji) "Ready on your word, Joker."

(Morgana) "Panther, you good?"

(Ann) "...Yeah."

Akira nodded and the four crept closer to the room, realizing the hallway was slowly turning something akin to a bedroom.

What stuck out the most was that it looked normal, just a regular bedroom.

And now they got closer, the shadow they saw wasn't a shadow at all.

It was Ann. Or what appeared to be a S/O's cognitive Ann.

(Akira) "Oracle, you're positive no one is nearby?"

(Futaba) "Affirmative, Joker."

Ryuji and Morgana turned to Ann, who was still shocked to see herself.

In hindsight, maybe she shouldn't have been.

(Akira) "Panther, I'll leave this decision to you. What do you want to do?"

(Ann) "I...I want to talk to her, see what she knows."

Everyone nodded and let Ann go first.

The three of them stood back, ready to jump into the fray in case talks go south.

The Congitive Ann's eyes widened when they saw the group approach, jumping back in surpise.

(Cognitive Ann) "OH MY GOD, who are you guys?!"

(Ann) "W-We're not here to hurt you, please calm down!"

The first thing Ann noticed was just how normal she looked. There wasn't any exaggerated clothing, it was just her in her casual clothes.

The second thing was how she spoke. It sounded...pretty much just how she was in real life too.

(Cognitive Ann) "Those masks...Wait, are you guys the Phantom Thieves?!"

Ann looked back to Akira who was nodding in response.

(Ann) "...Yeah, we are."

(Cognitive Ann) "Ohmigosh, I am SUCH a big fan! You guys helped me and so many others when you brought Kamoshida to justice!"

It seemed like S/O wasn't aware that Ann was actually part of the Phantom Thieves.

It was unsettling to the group how normal the Cognitive Ann was acting. What was the catch?

(Ann) "We're glad to have helped."

(Cognitive Ann) "That being said, what are you guys doing here? Don't the Phantom Thieves just fight bad guys?"

(Ann) "We're not here to fight. Just ask a couple questions about S/O is all."

(Cognitive Ann) "S/O? What do they have to do with this? H-Have they done something wrong?!"

(Ann) "No! Of course not!"

Her voice started to shake a little, making Ryuji step in.

(Ryuji) "Sorry, what my friend here is wanting to say is we want to help them. You mind if we ask you some stuff?"

(Cognitive Ann) "If it'll help, sure thing."

Ryuji put a comforting hand on Ann's shoulder.

She gently brushed it off, but nodded in affirmation.

(Ann) "Thanks, Skull...So, what is this place?"

(Cognitive Ann) "Uh, I think it's some kind of cell."

(Ann) "Cell?"

(Cognitive Ann) "Yeah, it keeps me from interacting with S/O. Something about 'not wanting to get me involved' or...something."

This wasn't making any sense. Usually cognitions of other people were hostile as soon as they saw the Phantom Thieves. This cognition of herself was startlingly accurate.

Which made the next thing she said hurt all the more.

(Cognitive Ann) "Oh, I remember what they said to me now. They wanted me to stay happy and said I didn't deserve to be dragged down into their troubles."

(Morgana) "That's why this version of Ann is so normal. It's like she's a haven they wanted to keep safe."

(Ann) "..."

S/O had come with Ann to help Shiho. encourage her during her Model shoots, and listened intently as Ann complained about whatever.

They had always been there for Ann. Never once have they brought up their own troubles.

(Ann) "Why would S/O do that...?"

(Cognitive Ann) "It's stupid, right?"

(Everyone) ?!

(Cognitive Ann) "I told S/O so many times that they can come to me if they ever needed help. Instead, they go and try to keep me out of it. I swear, if I get out of here, I'm gonna give them a nice long talk!"

Ann couldn't help but chuckle.

That's exactly what she would have said under normal circumstances.

(Ann) "I know you will. And, one last thing. What do you think of S/O?"

(Cognitive Ann) "I think S/O is an idiot for letting this happen, bottling all their troubles up."

Ryuji, Akira, and Morgana were taken aback.

Ann was less so, as she couldn't help but agree.

(Ann) "Yeah, that sounds about right."

(Cognitive Ann) "But...They know I love them. I guess they were afraid I wouldn't if they told me."

It amazed Ann as much as it hurt how they kept her intact and didn't see her through rose tinted glasses.

If they could see her like this, why didn't they do the same for themselves?

(Ann) "We'll get S/O to you. You have our word."

After speaking to her cognitive self, she's filled with more determination than ever.

Shadow Fight

The Phantom Thieves after searching throughout the Palace and sending the calling card realized what the Treasure was this entire time.

It was the Cognitive Ann.

Taking her away from the group and ready to fight, Ann steps forward to try and reason with her S/O.

(Ann) "S/O! Please, we don't have to fight!"

(Shadow S/O) "You will NOT take her and drag her down to my level! I don't deserve it-"

(Ann) "Bullshit, you know Ann would say otherwise! We're not letting you go down on this self wallowing pity party anymore!"

(S/O) "The Phantom Thieves should be focusing on someone else, not me! Why the hell do you care?!"

Ann reached for her mask and pulled it off, Carmen being summoned right behind her.

(Ann) "BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU, YOU IDIOT!"

(Futaba) "Energy levels rising, get ready for a fight!"

(Akira) "Panther!"

(Ann) "Right...Let's do this!"

At first, she doubted herself if she could fight her S/O's shadow.

But now, any doubts she had rocketed away.

If she had to beat the sense back into them, then so be it.

...

Treasure

S/O's shadow turned back to normal as they knelt on the ground, defeated.

Ann stepped forward, her mask still off as the other Phantom Thieves stood back to let her handle this.

The Cognitive Ann stood with the real Ann, letting her do the talking.

(Ann) "S/O...You should have just told me..."

(S/O) "I see that now...I'm so sorry, Ann."

She shook her head as she hugged them.

(Ann) "Don't apologize. Just...promise me you'll talk when you're ready."

(S/O) "I promise."

They slowly disappeared into blue light, with the Cognitive Ann glowing.

(Cognitive Ann) "So, the real treasure was me all along? Psh, talk about cheesey!"

Both Ann's had tears in their eyes, the real one wiping it off.

(Ann) "I know right? But...I'm glad we were able to help S/O out in the end."

(Cognitive Ann) "Yeah...Hah, to imagine that I was a Phantom Thief. We make the outfit rock, by the way."

As she began to disappear, the Cognitive Ann put her hand into the real Ann's palm.

(Cognitive Ann) "Make sure to show S/O this, okay? And thank you guys too."

She waved goodbye to the Phantom Thieves as she slowly faded away into a bright object into Ann's hands.

Ann smiled as she put the object in her pocket.

...It felt like she was forgetting something.

KABOOM!

...Oh god that's right, the Palace Collapse.

(Akira) "Time to go, MONA!"

Mona quickly transformed into the bus as everyone jumped in.

When they all escaped back into the real world, everyone took a deep breath.

Ann reached into her pocket and everyone looked to see what the treasure was.

It was a picture of her and S/O, smiling and eating some dessert stand in Shibuya.

You couldn't even tell S/O was hiding anything in the picture. The two of them together looked so happy.

Ann has the original photo in her phone, but seeing it take a physical form felt...different somehow.

(Ann) "Thank you guys so much for helping me."

As she wiped away the tears, everyone else smiled too.

(Akira) "Of course. We're here for you."

(Ryuji) "Make sure you go easy on S/O, alright?"

(Ann) "Right."

After seeing everyone off, Ann took a deep breath as she pulled up her IM's.

Ann: Hey, busy?

S/O: No, what's up?

Ann: Mind if we meet up somewhere? I want to talk.

S/O: Sure. I actually wanted to talk to you about something too.

Ann: Cool! Let's meet at the Park.

Taking another look at the photo, she couldn't help but smile.

This was their treasure?

No, if she learned anything from their Palace, Ann was their treasure.

Makoto was saddened, but not surprised by her S/O having a Palace.

If Sae could have one, and someone like Futaba used to have one, who's to say her S/O couldn't?

She sits on the information for a day or two, not sure what to do. Should she go by herself, or should she ask the others?

After all this wasn't an evil CEO or abusive celebrity. It was her S/O.

Makoto couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for a palace forming. Was she too harsh on them, or was she not there for them enough?

She calms herself down, there's only one way to find out.

Makoto: Is everyone free at the moment?

Akira: Here.

Futaba: yo >:3

Ryuji: Wassup?

Ann: Something wrong?

Haru: I am.

Yusuke: I happen to be free, yes.

Shadow Fight

The Phantom Thieves found the treasure and secured their escape route.

What the treasure actually was however, no one could tell. It was locked inside a small vault.

But, S/O intercepted them, predictably.

(Shadow S/O) "You thieves think you can just steal from me?! Whatever happened to punishing people who deserved it?!"

Makoto steps forth as her fists clench, ripping off her mask.

(Makoto) "This isn't a punishment, this is an intervention S/O!"

(Shadow S/O) "Makoto?!"

(Makoto) "If you refuse to see yourself the way I see you, then I'll just have to show you!"

Johanna appears underneath her as she revs the engines, the other Phantom Thieves joining in the fight.

She doesn't hesitate to fight her S/O's shadow.

She was going to make them listen, no matter what.

Treasure

When the fight was over, Makoto left her mask off as she knelt down with S/O, taking their hand into hers.

(S/O) "...I never thought I was good enough to be with you."

Makoto didn't say anything, only squeezing their hand tighter.

(S/O) "I'm not smart enough, I don't have anything special about me compared to everyone else you could have been with I'm...I'm not important enough to be part of your life, with everything you have to keep in mind."

(Makoto) "You're wrong. You've always been important to me. Now, and always."

She gave them a tight hug as they smiled, slowly fading into a blue light.

The vault Akira was carrying began to fade away as well, letting a small round object fall into his hands.

Knowing the moment wouldn't last, she turned around and turned to Mona.

(Makoto) "Get us out of here, the Palace is going to come down any second!"

Leaving before things got out of hand, everyone got out with their breaths and heart rate still normal, surprisingly.

(Makoto) "Akira, may I see what the Treasure is?"

Akira nodded and gave it back to her, everyone politely giving her some space.

(Makoto) "T-This is...!"

It was a small Buchimaru keychain Makoto had given to them.

Makoto gave it to them as a birthday gift, wanting it to be something from the heart.

So she gave them something that she held onto as a kid for so long, as a way to remember her.

She had a bittersweet smile as she held tightly onto the keychain.

(Makoto) "I cannot begin to thank you all enough for today."

(Ann) "Come on, senpai. It's the least we can do!"

(Haru) "Yeah, if you need us again, please let us know anytime!"

(Makoto) "That won't be necessary, at least for now. I'll handle things from here."

Getting her phone out, she texted S/O without hesitation.

Makoto: I know this is sudden, but I would like to visit you, if that is alright.

S/O: Oh, sure. But is everything okay?

Makoto: It is. Don't worry, you're not in trouble. I just wanted to tell you something I've been meaning to for a while.

She puts the keychain in her pocket as she makes her way to the train station.

Haru's hands tremble when the Metanav pings back a result when she types in her S/O's name.

Every instinct in her roars at her to go find her S/O right now and hold them tightly.

But she knows that won't help.

She knows the method that will, but Haru is afraid.

After what happened with her father, she couldn't go through the loss of a third person she loved again.

Haru brings it up to Akira when she calms down. The Phantom Thieves gather almost instantly and are ready to help her on the same day.

They're even more determined to help than before. It may not have been their fault Okumura died, but they refuse to let Haru suffer anymore than she already has.

Haru adjusts her hat and mask as she walks with the vanguard into S/O's palace.

She's going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.

Throughout the Palace, she is fighting with such ferocity that many shadows are stunned with fear.

Even her teammates take a step back every now and then.

Shadow Fight

Stealing the treasure was no easy task.

It was a massive tube containing some sort of plant, though it was alive and actively snapping at them.

When S/O's shadow, got in the way, Haru did not hesitate to step forward and remove her mask before S/O could say something and a fight would break out.

She gently held her hat as she stood in front of the group.

(Yusuke) "Noir!"

(Haru) "Please...Let me handle this."

(Shadow S/O) "H-...Haru?"

(Haru) "I can't imagine the pain you must be going through right now. How...alone you feel."

(Shadow S/O) "Why...why are you here?!"

Haru didn't raise her voice, instead calmly speaking.

(Haru) "Because I want to tell you, you're not alone! We're here for you...I'm here for you! So please, tell me why! Why didn't you come to me?"

The tears in her eyes made S/O stand down, much to everyone's shock.

(Shadow S/O) "You told me yourself, so many people want to use you just for your money. None of them care for you like the way I do! That's why... I can't go to you, Haru."

They looked down in shame, everyone sensing their will to fight going away, Haru stepping closer.

(Shadow S/O) "You've already gone through so much these past few months. Your father, the company, everything...I shouldn't be adding even more on top of your worries. You deserve so much better than that."

(Haru) "..."

Everyone was anxious seeing Haru getting so close to S/O's shadow, but she simply held out her hand with nothing to fear.

(Haru) "May I hold your hand, just for a moment?"

S/O's shadow stared at her for a moment before obliging, letting her hold them.

She kissed the tips of their fingers before looking back at them.

(Haru) "Thank you for thinking of me. It makes me so happy to know that you care."

Slowly embracing them, S/O's shadow was taken slightly aback.

(Haru) "I know you'd never do anything to hurt me on purpose. But, that's why I'm hurting right now. You can't sacrifice your own well being just for me. You deserve to be happy, too."

She stepped back and put her hat back on.

(Haru) "I want you to rely on me, just as much as I rely on you."

Treasure

S/O's Shadow looked down, away from Haru for a moment before nodding.

(Shadow S/O) "...Okay. I don't know if I can make it work, but-"

(Haru) "I know it will."

As they slowly faded away, they turned to the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

(Shadow S/O) "Please take care of her too, okay?"

They disappeared, and Haru took a deep breath.

(Haru) "Let's go."

Everyone left the Palace as it collapsed, making it out to the real world.

(Haru) "Thank you all so much for-"

(Ryuji) "OWOWOWOW! SHIT THAT HURT!"

(Morgana) "Ryuji, really?-HOLY CRAP!"

Ryuji held in his hands a small potted cactus. That somehow fit in his pockets.

Haru gasped when she saw that was the treasure.

In the rooftop garden at Shujin, she grew a small cactus for S/O to keep.

She remembered telling them that it was a little gift, something they grew together to represent their relationship.

She wanted to give them a particular flower that symbolized love better, the cactus was something very easy for them to take care of.

Haru managed to hold back her tears as she took the cactus into her hands.

(Haru) "My apologies for making you hold the treasure. In hindsight, maybe I should have."

(Ryuji) "Owowow...D-Don't worry about it. Good job today, made S/O back down without a fight."

(Haru) "As much as I could and would have fought S/O's Shadow, I'm glad it didn't have to come to it today. I should probably be going, thank you all again! But first, let me make sure nothings stuck to you, Sakamoto."

After ensuring there was no injury, Haru brought up her phone as she held the potted cactus in the other hand.

Haru: If you are free, can you come to my place? I wish to give you something.

S/O: Sure, I'll be over in an hour. Is it alright for me to come, aren't you busy?

Haru: For you, I can make the time.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

You know what, I have to get this off my chest so here's my essay on why Anakin and Padme's relationship in Attack of the Clones singlehandedly sinks not only Episode II, but detracts from the entire prequel trilogy.

Here's the thing: the prequels are a tragedy, chronicling Anakin Skywalker's lamentable fall to the Dark Side and becoming Darth Vader. But the movies spend SO. MUCH. TIME. foreshadowing Anakin's fall, we never really get to see him be a hero. (I will always be immensely grateful to The Clone Wars for giving us this desperately needed characterization for Anakin).

The same applies to Anakin/Padme's relationship. Their romance should be a tragedy, and really the only way to make something tragic is to make the audience root for it to succeed in the first place.

But their relationship as depicted in the movies is so toxic and covered in red flags I can't root for it to succeed. (And Anakin himself is already apparently one breath away from going full Dark Side so there's no chance to root for him either.)

Side note about "I don't like sand" since the problems with their romance often get chalked up to "Anakin is awkward" : "Awkwardness" could have worked, because awkwardness CAN be sweet and endearing when it's coming from someone who is shown to be kind and compassionate (see: Tech in general, but also with Phee). But Anakin, 10 years after TPM, isn't depicted in AotC as truly kind or compassionate or anything even approximating heroic until maybe the Battle of Geonosis at the very end of the movie. So yeah, Anakin being an idiot young adult when talking to a girl he likes is understandable; it's all his other behavior that is absolutely unacceptable.

Just a few "highlights:"

- Padme covers the cams in her room because she doesn't want Anakin watching her, then directly calls out Anakin for the looks he's giving her and tells him it's making her uncomfortable... And Anakin's response is creepy smile and then later he persists in talking to her about how he dreams about her etc and so forth.

^ Oh, if only the above or similar had been the actual scene...

- Inexplicably (and out of character for the Padme we got to know in TPM), Padme just... rolls with it and lets Anakin continue the creepy behavior she just told him she didn't like? Okay, guess we're reinforcing the idea that when women say "no" they don't ACTUALLY mean "no," persistence always wins, just gotta keep trying no matter what the woman says.

- Anakin strokes Padme's bare skin (she still hasn't said anything to indicate she's okay with this kind of attention), and she kisses him before pulling away and expressing regret over it. Since there's no other explanation given for Padme's sudden attraction to Anakin, we're left to assume that Padme must have been hiding her feelings for him from the get-go and therefore it must have been right for Anakin to keep testing her boundaries (do I really need to spell out how deeply problematic this messaging is??).

- Padme tells Anakin a relationship isn't feasible. (I have frequently come across comments on her "dominatrix dress" in this scene because apparently if a woman is going to turn down a man she has to plan on wearing, what, a burlap sack I guess, so the guy doesn't "get the wrong impression"). Anakin then shuffles full responsibility for his feelings onto her because of "the kiss she shouldn't have given him."

- Anakin commits one mistake and bad decision and egregious crime after another in the movie, as noted above it's not until Geonosis that he makes any decision that could be marginally considered heroic or "good," and... Padme likes this awful behavior, apparently?? Where did Padme liking this come from??? (If you're going to have freakin' rational smart independent kick-butt PADME fall for something like this, at least explain/show WHY.)

- By the time we get to the "We're about to die so yeah I totally love you" cliche, I'm not even cringing anymore because I'm just trying to figure out how we got to this point in the first place.

So... Yeah, we keep being told this is an epic tragic romance, and all I can see is two hours' worth of indicators that if Padme were my real-life friend, I'd be holding an intervention long before Anakin got assigned to her security detail on Naboo. FOR FORCE'S SAKE, PADME, HE'S BEEN THROWING UP NOTHING BUT RED FLAGS! RED MEANS STOP!!!

Again, this isn't just "Anakin doesn't know how to talk to girls because he was raised as a space monk." (Come on, people, Obi Wan was raised the same way and he does NOT act like that... But I digress.) This is Anakin being a creepy stalker who doesn't listen to the woman he supposedly loves and won't take no for an answer, and he ends up rewarded for it, and we're supposed to cheer him and Padme on and want them to be together?

No. Not me, at least.

And with this as the backstory going into Revenge of the Sith, with us never getting the chance (in the movies) to see Anakin at his best even with the woman he supposedly loves, Anakin's fall doesn't really feel tragic - it just feels... inevitable. His fall is plenty tragic and regrettable for the Jedi and clones and the Republic in general, of course; but with respect to how Anakin's demise affects him, it just hits as being a long time coming.

(At the end of the day, the only reason why I tolerate Anakin/Padme in TCW is because I actively ignore everything about their relationship from AotC. TCW also did such a stellar job showing enough of Anakin's good side contrasted with his darker tendencies that Anakin's fall in RotS now finally hits me as tragic for Anakin in particular. And the only reason why I rewatch AotC is for Obi Wan and the Yoda v Dooku fight, I almost always skip over 90% of the "romance" scenes at this point because I don't like gagging while watching a movie.)

[eraserheadbabyfever]

well i was freakin out about this essay and my mom said didnt you say that einstein took a year off to study kant. and i was like yeah. oh yeah. the ridiculousness of being expected to understand kant well enough to write an essay about his response to the problem of inference in 7 days is insane then. an almost impossible task. and i feel better somehow,

[bluebunnysart]

Someone made fanart for my Mikuteto fanfic (Rain) and I love it so much, I love it sosososososoo much, words aren't enough to convey it www I really wanted to scribble up a doodle in response to this but I need to go to work rn so I guess I must hold it in but I wanted to promo it and gush about it here...... There are no spoilers from looking at this (the biggest spoiler is what you'd expect from a fic named "Rain" lmao so it's fine if you haven't read it) but hmnfkjdf in this essay I will--

Ok *pushes up my art analysis glasses* Much of what I've already wanted to say, I've said to the person directly, stuff about how I never thought Rain would receive fanart lmao (and then it got so much, the most 😭) and I'm so soo thrilled and flattered and excited that it did. Thank you so much to everyone who's been liking my stuff and made me fanart; I've saved all of it and printed it out and treasure it greatly (yes, yours too!!!). It's soo soo cool so I'll always love it. Everything I've received has been amazing and it's not just 'cuz everyone is such a good artist lol but it's because all art is great and deserves to exist even if it isn't "pro quality" (whatever the heck that means). Idk if that waters things down 'cuz that means I love any kind of art just for it existing as opposed to "technical skill" or whatever but I am NOT saying these things because I think any of the art I've received is lacking in those areas at all. All the art is freakin' beautiful and VERY awesome and technically skilled and pro level (yes, yours too!!!!!!) so yeah, enough rambling there. I'm just saying all Negidrill is beautiful and I love seeing it forever. Lately I've been saving more and more art to my phone to admire lol, when in the past I'd just bookmark it (that's why I have 22k+ bookmarks but I digress).

Idk what else to say about this art that I haven't already said but I'll say it here anyway. xD

When I first wrote the scene, I didn't imagine them facing each other and I'm not sure if the artist imagined them facing each other and that's why they drew it, or if the artist drew them facing each other 'cuz that's a GREAT idea and they chose to take it, but them facing each other during this scene is so fun and funny honestly. This scene is pretty GAY and even gives ME slight secondhand embarrassment so the added visual of them facing each other during it is very amusing to me. The Teto in my head is already cringing in embarrassment (affectionate) but I like it lmfao. Good for them lmaooo

The setting is just a bunch of piles of trash everywhere so the artist did a great job representing that! ♥🔥🔥🔥 They did a great job showing how it's possible for Teto and Miku to sit on top of it too! In this AU, Miku and Teto are usually either on top of the trash or on the ground, and sometimes the trash is hard to navigate with lots of stuff sticking out but other times it's more flattened. In my own head I think about how I want to depict the trash piles being their "ground" (I sometimes imagine doing it through having them standing on a metal sheet or something sometimes lol) but as always, this is great! Very good! <3

I didn't ask them this but what the heck is this fhhdskfldsf I guess we will never know...... xD

Anyway, the trash is variable, so when Miku dives off it, the impact on her is very up in the air... She could either luck out and not hit anything too bad or she could experience the opposite of luck and hit a lot of sharp objects. xD Anyway, Miku is fine. I would never hurt Miku. Miku, next to Teto, is my favorite, so all is fine and good forever in this AU 😂😂😂😂 (thinking).

Something else I didn't mention but thought to talk about now is I REALLY like the light under their umbrella 'cuz what the heck?? xD The beach umbrella being this big is already based and very accurate, but the light also serves to show this is kinda like a safe place/spot for them and that's so cool?!????? It's like a safe haven or a save spot in a video game lol. I freakin' love how not only is the umbrella sheltering them from the weather and keeping them secluded/with each other-- it's also covering them in light and seemingly preserving it for them?? And Miku is singing ofc because she always is. Girl likes to sing lol.

Anyway, the symbolism goes so hard. Umbrellas are what you need for the rain but this is so 相合傘 (ai ai gasa / love-love umbrella)-coded lmao, I love it so much. When I first imagined them sharing an umbrella, that concept was literally on my mind, so I'm really happy that there's this freakin' cool symbolism going on even now, despite me changing the moment into a slightly different one from Miku and Teto happily sharing an umbrella and walking around or whatever. xD

I'm not confident in my coloring yet 'cuz I'm impatient and rush things lol but I really love colored artworks and the colors chosen here are so great. Everything else is devoid of color except these two and the umbrella and under it and it's such a great effect.

I made it into my Windows computer app tile. I love it so much.

I really need to go to work now but long live Negidrill 😂😂😂😂 As long as I'm alive, I'll be making more. I really did make up my mind, so I'm not jinxing it, I promise. xD Trust. xD 💖💖💖💖🥰🥰🥰🥰

Thank you again, RandomNobody. 🥰 I won't forget this and I won't be able to 'cuz this will be on my wall soon lmfao. Colored artworks go on my wall. Uncolored artworks get printed and go at my desk. Either way, they are always in my room with me, along with my Triple Baka keychains. 😂😂😂😂

[lowtaxsa]

The Customer is always WRONG: an essay

Alright, let me tell you about the time I worked at a pizza parlor, slaving away behind the counter, kneading dough like some kind of culinary indentured servant. I've seen some real pieces of work in my day, but the parade of buffoons that marched through those doors truly took the cake – or should I say, the pizza.

There was this one guy, waddling in with the swagger of a man who clearly thought he was the center of the universe. He orders a large pizza with everything on it, and I mean EVERYTHING. Toppings piled so high it looked like a freakin' landfill on a crust. Then he has the audacity to complain that it's too heavy to carry. What did he expect, helium toppings?

And let's not forget the lady who ordered a pizza with extra anchovies, only to throw a fit when her pie arrived swimming in a sea of salty little fish. "I didn't mean THAT many anchovies!" she screeched, as if I were some kind of mind reader who could divine the precise number of anchovies her precious palate desired.

But wait, there's more! Like the woman who ordered a side of french fries, only to demand they be remade not once, but twice. The first time, she threw a fit because someone dared to touch the frozen, pre-fried potato without a glove – as if the scorching oil wouldn't annihilate any and all germs. And the second time? No reason at all! She just wanted to watch the world burn, one fry at a time.

And then, there was the time Elon freakin' Musk waltzed into the joint like he owned the place – oh wait, he probably does. He just started going to town on the front of the house with a sledgehammer, while his two Iraq War veteran war criminal ex-mercenary private security guards stood by, armed to the teeth with machine guns and grenade launchers. It was like watching some dystopian action movie unfold before my very eyes, except instead of a war zone, it was my beloved pizza parlor. I guess the man just really needed some stress relief after launching yet another useless fucking rocket or whatever the hell he does.

But the pièce de résistance was the moron who ordered a pizza, then proceeded to pluck off each and every topping, leaving behind a sad, barren disc of sauce and cheese. "I just like the taste of the toppings," he explained, as if that justified the senseless carnage of pizza ingredients strewn about his table.

The sheer wastefulness of it all! The mind boggles at the thought of how much food was squandered to satisfy these entitled ingrates. It's no wonder we're drowning in a sea of garbage, with capitalism fueling this rampant excess and environmental destruction.

That's why I've come up with my latest and greatest product: Proletarian Dictatorship! With this revolutionary system, any customer causing a disturbance in a pizza parlor will be immediately arrested for industrial sabotage and anti-environmental activism. No more will the whims of entitled jerks dictate the wanton waste of precious resources. With Proletarian Dictatorship, we'll usher in a new era of pizza-based responsibility and ecological awareness!

So remember, kids: the customer isn't always right. In fact, they're often dead wrong. And with Proletarian Dictatorship on the horizon, the pizza parlor of tomorrow will be a shining example of sustainability and common sense – one anchovy at a time.

[kippentrash]

Wait...TJ has looked back like three times now??? Amber genuinely cares for Andi? BEX AND BOWIE KISSED??? This show has destroyed me qowhetpo

BIG. FAT. MOOD.

I stg TJ’s like the only character that repeatedly gets to do the lookback, even though each time it becomes more and more ambiguous. Like first one? Full on slow-mo and lingering camera and romantic music. Second one? Close up and lingering, but without slow-mo and more tense music. Third time? Shifted focus, less lingering, no music, and in a comedic setting. Still, he’s the only one who’s gotten that same lookback angle MULTIPLE times, and maybe I just need to rewatch the series but I swear they only use that angle/shot/setup (idk word I’m not well versed in cinematography) for lookbackTMs. So they really workin on that slow burn I see you Disney I see you.

My goodness Amber just wanted to help Andi let loose and introduce her to a new way of having fun with her, considering the last time she tried to do that she had some jealousy in her which unfortunately ruined the outing. Her face as Bowie and Andi left really broke my heart oh my god, she genuinely was willing to take the fall for Andi there and was so upset that she was getting to be on good terms with Andi but she messed it up again. It reminded me of the time TJ was left alone at the bar mitzfah my god. I know they’re minor characters but leaving them alone in an unknown state of worry KILLS ME. The Ambi this ep honestly outsold Amber really just wanted to have fun with Andi ;w;

THE BEX AND BOWIE KISS MAY HAVE BEEN ONE OF THE MOST HEATED KISSES THEY’VE HAD IN THE SHOW?? The only close contender is their engagement but I still think this tops that. They were so domestic this episode it was adorable and the fact that she was so proud of him and just had to kiss him before letting him run off to take care of their daughter was just?? They are such goals and are just adorable and yes. Yes please. It’s completely understandable why Andi ships her own parents so hard literally “my parents are so cute” or whatever it was that she said was pretty much me in my head every time I see them together. They. Out. Sold.

This episode is honestly probably one of my favorites for both all the little things and for the bigger things in it too gosh. Like ask me my opinion about a particular aspect of it and I could probably at least write a paragraph of it. Maybe more depending on what it is dalksjdlkajd

Anon you and me are in the same boat. This show has taken over my life what am I doing. ((NO REGRETS.))

[topaziraphale]

I am never one to shame people for their preferences but I just find it so incredibly boring that "sexy dominant demon" made its way into this fandom. I don't know, I just feel like reducing Crowley to the very thing that he tries so hard to embody is not it. His struggle with vulnerability and wanting to be taken care of but cannot let people in is a big part of his character, and I love when fanfics or art delves into that. This is just my take, though.

I agree. I try not to yuck other people's yums, mostly because fandom and headcanons are just for fun and, at the end of the day, nothing will change what's already there in the text. Headcanons are there for fun, and honestly, it really is fun to do. That's why we're all here, after all! Who am I to tell someone what to think?

But while I won’t demand anyone think the way I do (i mean, who does that?), that doesn't really stop me from personally getting bored and even annoyed when a fic makes Crowley only ever the mean-dark-sexy-evil demon he dresses himself up to be. Or when he's way too extremely-ultra-soft-and-sensitive and can't do anything without Aziraphale and needs his love in order to function. I, myself, don’t see the fun in these, for more reasons other than “That’s not how he would act, wtf?” 

This, uh, ended up getting really wordy because I have no self control and I never had buddies to rant about this meta to, so this is my outlet. The rest of it is under a cut. I’m apologizing in advance. You definitely weren’t expecting this much of a response, I reckon. 

TL;DR - I don’t like reductive headcanons for Crowley because they undermine the entire point for his character existing in the first place and it therefore makes him boring.

Before I get into it, I can't bring up the purpose of Crowley as a character without also including Aziraphale. Crowley, as he stands right now, would arguably be equally as pointless without Aziraphale there with him. And the same goes vice-versa. They complete each other - they were originally one character that got split into two, after all.

The story of Good Omens is commentating on the nature of human morality. Morality, as we know, can be gray, and messy, and confusing. Sometimes it really depends on how you look at it. What one person will see as evil, another will see as righteous. That’s just how humans are. And the entire concept of Morality cannot exist without being prefaced with the binary that is Good and Evil. That’s where Aziraphale and Crowley come in. They’re basically a giant metaphor for all that.

At the end of the day, they’re just a fun, interesting way to visualize the nature of human morality. They’re here to help build one of the main themes in the story. Their existence as an angel and a demon symbolize the Good and Evil binary, but it is their choices and actions that alienate them from the other angels and demons and thus make them more complex as characters, that truly completes the entire metaphor for morality.

This is probably why they’re not humans. The message with them wouldn’t be as unique if they were. Making them an angel and demon reinforces the symbolism and removes the gray bias that making them human would cause. 

That’s why they’re interesting enough to exist in this story as main characters despite doing virtually almost nothing to really impact the chain of events.

My point is, Aziraphale and Crowley cannot represent morality in this special way if they’re characterized to be just like any other demon or angel.  

If they’re characterized that way, then they aren’t serving the purpose they were created for. And if they can’t do that, then what’s the point of having them? It’s not like they have many actions that directly impact a major aspect of the storyline - and the ones they do have could probably be worked around. At that point, they’re just here for the aesthetic. That doesn’t make them interesting enough to be main characters.

That’s why I tend to not like those types of headcanons that simply reduce both Aziraphale and Crowley into exactly what they’re expected to be. Crowley can’t be as interesting as he is if he can’t be the symbol he was created to be. He can’t be that symbol that if he isn’t An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards. He is interesting BECAUSE you expect him to be a suave, sexy, silver-tongued handsome devil that is truly evil - but in reality, he’s actually a really nice person, has a soft spot for humanity, and is kinda dorky at times. 

Headcanons that make him a stereotypical mean sexy demon, or the ones that overdo his softness and vulnerability disturb the balance that he’s got going on. He’s practically someone else at that point. Crowley in canon part of a really interesting set up and dynamic - to change that dynamic by changing his personality into something that ultimately works against the key components that make it work in the first place simply makes him more boring of a character. That’s why I have a really tough time getting into those particular fanon interpretations of him over the ones that are closer to canon.

[sundaysundaes]

Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings:  protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim​ who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him. 

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention. 

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again. 

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.” 

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?” 

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up. 

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though). 

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me. 

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!” 

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.” 

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him. 

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement. 

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin. 

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin. 

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared. 

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them. 

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace. 

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened? 

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older. 

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just— 

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours. 

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too. 

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter. 

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin. 

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—” 

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t. 

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.” 

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin. 

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight. 

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his. 

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out. 

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.” 

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. 

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.” 

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more. 

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps. 

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.” 

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer. 

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously. 

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.” 

***

[fromzerotoeuphoria]

So you wanna say that RinHaru is a "tOxiC" ship...

*siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh*

It's 2021, humanity has survived a freakin pandemic and people are still out here calling RinHaru 'tOxiC!!1!'?? Like with their full chests??

Imagine HOW TIRED—

Random blog post:

Also random blog post:

In at number one we have RinHaru, also known as Sharkbait. Everything Free! began and ended with these two. The entire first season is about their relationship, and the final fight in the Eternal Summer Special is between them. RinHaru may not have the years of friendship that MakoHaru and SouRin have behind them - but that’s what makes them such an amazing pairing. Within just a short few months in the last term of their last year of elementary school, Rin and Haru became an unforgettable presence in each other’s lives.

(Come on, you know points were made 😉).

But then ofc, you got people crying in the comments that their ship isn't No.1. Which okay, I totally get that you'd feel your ship should be at the top even though the article is just someone's personal opinion...and they didn't even attack your ship; if anything, they put it at No.2 and only had lovely things to say about it, but seriously?? Calling RinHaru toxic?? In the year of our lord 2021???

Aren't y'all exhausted with your own selves by now? I know the rest of us are.

And so, I'm sharing my response to those comments here, for although I have much more organized and polished essays on my drafts on how RinHaru Is NOT Toxic, I really had to just get these points out for now:

Claiming something to be true doesn't make it true, especially when it's driven by an emotional attachment to an opposing ship.

None of the relationships in Free are toxic except for Ikuya x Hiyori, ugh, especially RinHaru, since this is the one haters love to ignorantly throw the "toxic" label on. The entire series wouldn't revolve around Haru and Rin's relationship if that were the case (and Utsumi, the director, comes out and says that Free! is Haru and Rin's story).

The staff, director, VAs all have POSITIVE and lovely things to say about Haru and Rin's friendship. Utsumi said in the RinHaru Mook interview that Rin was the only one who could do what he did in helping Haru realize his dream in S2. In Ep4 of Take Your Marks, Haru himself literally tells Rin that he is the reason Haru was even able to move towards the future. This is all CANON, not headcanon, not fanon, but actual canon material directly from the words of the Free! staffa and anime.

Explain to me how RinHaru is "tOxiC"?? Because they've argued? Because Rin unknowingly and unintentionally hurt Haru when he only once ever told him he'd never have to swim with him again?? Because Rin was suffering with depression (as Utsumi herself said) throughout Season 1 and sometimes showed symptoms of his depression? Because Rin kicked a trashcan out of frustration in S1E12????

Hahaha like seriously, it's okay if you strongly dislike RinHaru as a ship, but calling it "tOxiC" is such a pathetic stretch as a hater. Especially when doing so, you undermine actual toxic relationships and the victims who live through them.

The entire Free! franchise has multiple movies, 2.5 whole seasons and even a 4-episode film that shows Rin being one of the most supportive, sweet, caring and motivating characters on the show. He drives Haru to constantly improve at swimming, was the only one who was able to breakthrough to Haru in Season 2 about Haru's future dream the way he did (again, as Utsumi herself said), is the reason Haru attributes to being able to step towards the future, is a "dear friend" to Haru whom Haru cares a whole lot about and, as Season 1 shows us, strongly wants in his life.

But I guess none of this exists for antis—nope, in their own 2013-stuck worlds, RiNhArU iZ dA tOxiC sHiP.

(But hey, at least the commenter agreed in a follow-up comment that their claim is "dry, unoriginal ignorant and completely-undermining-to-ACTUAL-toxic-relationship"—acceptance is one of the first steps to recovery :))

[thewarlocknerd]

Alright I’m on a MAJOR Cobra Kai binge so bear with me

I am sick and tired of people acting like Daniel is the villain of Cobra Kai! I don’t get why people act like Johnny and the Cobra Kai kids have never done a single thing wrong while simultaneously blaming Daniel for everything that’s happened even in the original Karate Kid film.

Stop blaming the abuse victim(Daniel) for the actions of his abuser(Johnny)

Now I love Johnny just as much as the next person but that doesn’t mean he didn’t do some messed up shit in the original film.

Daniel didn’t start any trouble with Johnny, JOHNNY was the one who harassed his ex-girlfriend when she clearly didn’t want to talk to him, threw down her radio in a fit of rage, and then beat up Daniel who was merely trying to return the radio to Ali! 

Those scenes of Johnny explaining the situation to Miguel and Carmen are supposed to show how Johnny is STILL trying to avoid any responsibility for his wrongdoings and should seriously not be taken as fact!

I truly believe for Johnny to become better his character development must involve him coming to terms with his past actions towards Daniel and sincerely apologizing to him.

Now to what this essay is really all about: Daniel Larusso has some SERIOUS trauma as a result of Cobra Kai’s actions!

Trauma from almost being murdered by Johnny and his gang twice(being pushed off that steep hill on his bike and being almost beaten to death in front of the fence) on top of the bullying and harassment he faced from them in school(the soccer incident, anybody?)

Johnny and his gang didn’t leave Daniel alone for weeks, they kept harassing him on a daily freakin’ basis which pushed Daniel to retaliate at the Halloween dance.

(P.S. I could go into a whole other essay about how the events of The Karate Kid Part 3 gave Daniel even further trauma related to Cobra Kai but first, y’all seriously need to watch that movie so we can discuss). 

All of Johnny’s development so far has happened only with the Cobra Kai kids so I don’t want to see anyone say that he’s ignoring how much better Johnny has become when Daniel has been privy to Johnny openly assaulting his employee Anoush and then deciding not to call Daniel the exact same night Sam and Robby came to his house after Moon’s party to refusing to let him see his drunk daughter who had not come home the night before( I understand Johnny’s intentions but that’s just not something you do to a parent who just found out where their missing child has been).

Daniel Larusso has major PTSD that has affected his choices within the series and he absolutely needs therapy in order to stop letting the past define his present. He is not some rich sell-out or self-centered jerk or whatever titles are being used to demonize him, Daniel Larusso is just...human.

[midearthwritings]

Hellos! I was wondering if I may request a matchup for both lotr and the hobbit?

I am a female. I am bi, so male or female matchups are ok! I am around 5'8"/5'9". I have long brown hair, tan skin and browny-green eyes.

I mainly wear black clothes and but I have no set style. I'll wear things that are more rock and the next day I'd be wearing more of a goth style.

I am rather timid thanks to depression and anxiety, but once I get used to someone and I trust them, then I'm freakin weird 🤪

My hobbies include listening to music, reading, gaming and working on my dnd campaign since I'm the dm.

I love animals, I am hoping to work with them once I get my qualifications.

My favourite animals are foxes, wolves and crows.

My favourite music is rock, metal and alternative.

My favourite colours are purple, midnight blue and black.

My favourite books to read are fantasy and horror. My favourite book series is Throne of Glass.

My favourite video games are rpgs. I love Fable, Dragon Age, Dragon Quest and Pokemon.

Apologies for my essay 🤣😅

Hey sweetheart! Sorry for taking so long (I'm a bit of a procrastinator)

Fíli

For the Hobbit, I'm pairing you up with Fíli.

It probably started by you being friends with Kíli.

At first, Fíli thought you like his brother so he didn't dare approach you. Plus, your shy nature made him think you didn't like him.

Finally, he asked to court you. It was very awkward but in the end, you accepted. Kíli (in all his Kíli glory) was probably more excited than the both of you.

Fíli loves to get you clothes as presents. He has them made in your favorite colors of course. What he likes the most about it is the way you blush when he gifts them to you.

He thinks its so cute how shy you are and one of his favorite thing to do is making you flustered.

He also adores your crazy side. You two love to prank his brother all the time and you're always very imaginative with it.

Whenever you have a depressive episode or an anxiety attack, his first response is to take you in his arms to remind you that you're not alone.

Although, if you ever need space, he gives it to you.

He's very proud to be with you, and always introduce you as his One.

Legolas

For LOTR, I'm going to put you with Legolas.

When Legolas confessed his love to you, you didn't accept right away because you were scared of his father.

Turned out Thranduil quite likes you.

Legolas loves to kiss your cheek at random moments. He also loves to whisper sweet things in your ear when you don't expect it.

He loves your crazy side. Although he would never act that way himself, he thinks you're adorable and make sure you always feel comfortable enough to loosen up around him.

Legolas loves your tan skin. Like he absolutely adores it. He loves the way it contrasts with his and he always reminds you of it.

Whenever you have a depressive episode, he feels a little helpless. He's terrified that you might fade, and he doesn't want to make it worse.

But he does check on you all the time and makes sure you have everything you need when it happens.

Hope you liked it sweetie!

[chocosvt]

(below is a mix of rambling/more discussion/some updates on where my blog is heading, read if u wish)

to be frank, at this point, i don’t think an apology statement is in sight. pledis has proved time and time again how manipulative and apathetic they are as a company. even the bare minimum - making a small edit in the clip which would have removed the offensive segment - is ignored. no matter how vocal this fandom was, pledis chose to do absolutely nothing. they would rather preserve clips of their artists normalizing an abhorrent, discriminatory song than issue a simple statement, leaving south asian carats to ruminate in this nauseating uncertainty and exhaustion. and it seems to unearth the question: “is this a space i want to be in?”

it’s not anyone’s place to dictate one’s opinion on whether or not they feel comfortable in this fandom. this name doesn’t just encompass kcarats. it’s global. it’s everyone whose decided to support the group so dedicatedly. the way svt have adapted the term “global idol” is questionable when taking into account the ignorance that has been demonstrated. this is nothing new or nothing that hasn’t already been voiced, but seriously, idols shouldn’t expand to a global platform if they’re going to be selective with their respect. 

around 2018-ish, i couldn’t keep up with any group apart from svt, nor did i truly want to get involved with other groups. since their debut, svt has been such a lovely source of happiness and comfort. even when i had to endure some of my toughest moments, i could always turn to them in order to regain strength. so admittedly, observing the complete silence from their end was disheartening. i’m not part of the affected culture, so i cannot begin to imagine such sentiments of disappointment. i do feel a strain on the relationship i once had with svt. 

watching ww’s live, it was unsettling and there were many moments of stiffness. i want to believe that ww would have apologized (dk + vn too) if pledis were not the complete control freaks they establish being, but truthfully i don’t know what’s up in his head nor his heart. nonetheless, this idol coddling is so toxic (i could really write a whole essay on this). they’re not some fifth graders, they’re matured men in their twenties who are more than capable of understanding any cultural insensitivies and how their actions entailed hurt. i was relieved to see so many fans actually holding them accountable, to a point where the original artist himself released a statement and even the damn news got involved.

i wish that we could have got even an inkling of closure. just that tiny, tiny moment where ww briefly mentions the song being cut out. many people have suggested to remain persistent with emailing (not just the pledis accounts, but the bighit accounts as well) and i’ve seen others suggesting to opt from buying tickets to the online caratland event. i can’t see this ending in a manner where any action will be taken. unless someone manages to sneak this topic into another online fs or something along those lines where there’s direct contact, i have no idea what’s gonna happen.

this was a mentally and physically draining week. i hope all south asian carats who had to yet again watch their culture get shaved down to these harmful stereotypes take the time to look after themselves, nurture themselves, step away from this train wreck and prioritize things that are fun and healing!! it’s not your responsibility to educate ignorant people when so many resources are easily accessible. getting into kpop comes with an unhealthy cost. the industry is blanketed with casual racism and it moves slower than molasses when it comes to addressing the layers of disrespect and indifference. 

i also need to question if this is something worth my energy. i’ve been writing on this platform for five years now. i need to decide if this is something i want to keep putting effort into. i’m beyond tired of witnessing pledis brush any serious concern under the rug while scrambling to make amends for insignificant matters that no one legit cared about apart from a few disgruntled kcarats. right now, i’m not in a mood where i want to post svt content or write svt related stories. until there is an apology that suggests actual remorse, growth, and willingness to be evolve in the event there are other blemishes (which seems highly unlikely) i won’t be as present as i used to. 

overall, i’m not sure the direction of my blog. i think i need to step away from chocosvt for a few days so that i can really process. my plans are definitely not to abandon my main. and as time passes maybe i’ll feel less hesitant. 

of course, i’m going to continue my admin position on caratwritersclub because i truly do love writing! i love reading the different works and seeing how galaxy brained you all are! in terms of my own writing, it’s most likely going to come to a standstill. i might finish my massive kmg fic and post it (as well as the yjh and ljh fics in my drafts) but like i previously mentioned, i need to question if keeping up with svt as adamantly as before is worth my energy. i’m not saying i’ll NEVER write or post about them again. writing is one of my only mental escapes that legitimately works. rather, i might ease off and ponder what’s the best road to take, and how involved i should remain as their fan. 

whew.

to end off this gigantic scripture, i’m going to mention that i made a new personal blog. my old one is too cluttered. it’s not completely ready yet but i’m  thinking that i’ll make a smaller post which summarizes some of my ending points. i’ll link it there. i think some kartists will still make an appearance (and there will absolutely be mr. moon wen junhui), but mostly other things i’m interested in!! feel free to drop a follow and mutuals i’ll fb as soon as i can!!! if you read this entire thing then i hope it wasn’t too disorganized. if any part of this comes across as over speaking or invalidating pls let me know! i can really freakin ramble when i’m just sitting here w my thoughts. 

anyways, I’M DONE NOW.  

[fifielady]

Soulmates and Stairs? Disaster

Day 2 of @usukweek​ || Pining | Soulmate AU

Note/s: I always get lazy by the end of the story I’m writing  (シ_ _)シ

"Good job, arsehole."

"Arthur, I... I'm really sorry." Alfred kept his eyes on the bland gray-blue (he'd asked a nurse which colors were which while waiting for Arthur) tiled hospital floor, he couldn't seem to at least muster up the courage to look at the other person in the eye and apologize for what seemed like the eleventh time after he accompanied Arthur to the hospital. It was both embarrassing and disheartening that he left such a terrible impression on his soulmate. A terrible and utterly painful physical impression as well.

An hour and a half ago, before they could finally see the blindingly beautiful colors and were sitting in the hospital with Arthur Kirkland's left arm in a cast and Alfred F. Jones regretting and savoring the good and the bad of the consequences of his actions, they were both in the student park in front of the male dormitories spending time on their weekends. Separately, that is. Arthur was sitting on the narrow cobble stairs that lead to the old but sturdy dorms while Alfred was sitting under the canopy of a tree admiring the view.

Alfred was finishing up his essay outside his dorm room because he left his key on his desk when he rushed to his one and only 9 a.m. Saturday class. He was lucky his laptop was fully charged before he headed out, bringing his charger would've been useless since most of the outlets in the common room were always occupied. Besides, the weather was nice enough, for a cloudy day, to spend outside while he worked on his homework. But while he waited for his roommate to come back from buying comics and manga (or was Kiku visiting his Greek soulmate's apartment?), he glimpsed the one and only Arthur Kirkland sitting on the steps furiously working his pencil on a sketchbook.

He thought while unknowingly pressing on the letter 's' on the keyboard, Ah, wow, he looks lovely as always. Though Alfred could only see the light gray shade of Arthur's hair and the dark gray shine in his eyes and even an almost white complexion, there's no way colors would even matter to the sheer handsomeness of Arthur Kirkland. He was very much lucky he could see him almost every day.

Arthur's room was directly across his and Kiku's and though he'd never even talked to him before, except for that acknowledging nod he got when he picked up the guy's Calc textbook, Alfred had developed a crush on him that seemed to grow into something more whenever Alfred was able to catch sight of Arthur. He punched his pillow to exhaustion that night for missing the opportunity to at least brush the skin of their fingers together when Arthur took the book from him. Alfred was guilty, even right now actually, that he'd liked someone who might not turn out to be his intended. It was kinda silly that he'd felt he was cheating on his soulmate when he knew that Arthur probably didn't even know his name.

Alfred forced himself to stop staring because he'd look creepy like that one girl who was always stalking his Russian classmate and that he really should carry on with his essay and other homework, so he graced himself one last look of longing to Arthur for the day and face his open word document only to look down and see that there were two pages filled with "s"s. Nothing a ctrl+z can't handle. Bless technology and Arthur Kirkland's adorably grumpy face of concentration while drawing. Well, not just his looks, he'd seen the guy helping other people without them noticing and it was so 'noble' of him and it made Alfred want to hug him and happy-cry.

Hm. He really should start on finishing his work. But all his pining made him hungry. His stomach grumbled as if to agree. Alfred pursed his lips and thought for a moment. If he were to pass by his crush on the narrow staircase, maybe he could say hi and stuff and invite him out for a snack, and voila!, their first conversation and, maybe, a date. It's a good start, at least.

Like a man on the most super important mission of his life, he'd quickly gathered his things and was basically skipping over to Arthur who was ever so focused on his illustration. Alfred put on his Gonna-Get-Me-Some Smile™ and waved when he was a few feet near the base of the stairs where Arthur was, "Hey Art--WaaAH!"

Something caught his right foot and it was moments before his social death on the ground when he felt a warm body barreling against him and breaking his fall, two bodies tumbling down beside the foot of the stairs. Someone groaned, or maybe they both did, Alfred something felt warm and soft and a bit bony under him. Funny, when was the ground ever bony? Or soft? A whimper caught his attention, oh that definitely wasn't him. Alfred opened his eyes as he stood up to see Arthur on his back wincing.

"AAH- I'm so sorry, are you okay?!"

Arthur only whimpered in response, his eyes were closed tight and there were droplets on his lashes beginning to form. His left arm was positioned weirdly, too. Uh-oh. Arms weren't supposed to bend like that. "Arthur? Arthur, you gotta stay with me," Alfred frantically and lightly tapped on Arthur's cheek. The man's thick brows furrowed into a grimace so Alfred changed tactics. He carded his fingers to brush Arthur's bangs away to clear his face and continued the hair-stroking to soothe him a little bit.

"It-it hurtss... Aaarghh..."

Alfred felt his heart clench. "It's alright, buddy. I'm gonna shout for someone to call for a nurse and we'll go to the hospital, 'kay?"

Arthur only moaned back, tears slowly falling down his face. "Art, hey, can you open your eyes for me? You gotta stay awake. Please stay awake."

He was squinting, and blinking to adjust to the light behind Alfred. The other realized this and shifted slightly to shade Arthur's face. Slowly, and very slowly, just like the slow-motion in the movies, Arthur fluttered his eyelids and all Alfred could see was a color so deep he could in forever hidden behind the long, long the dark and bright lashes of his. And immeasurable pain! Right!

"I'm really sorry about this but you've gotta hold on, soulmate, I'm gonna take you to the hospital and get you patched up."

And that was how he'd given his soulmate a temporary painful physical impression. Talk about his strange luck. Alfred scratched the back of his neck, this was just so nerve-wracking! "Right, um, at least it wasn't your right hand...?"

Arthur also kept his eyes glued on his lap, refusing to even look at him. "I'm left-handed, you fool."

"But... you were drawing with your right hand earlier?" He asked albeit hesitantly and a lot quieter than he usually was.

"I was scribbling out my anger. I'm useless with my right hand. And thanks to you unexpectedly trampling down, I won't be able to use my dominant hand to do anything competently." Arthur shifted his head to the opposite of Alfred, his cheeks and the tips of his ears were tinting 'red'. Crap, Alfred really messed this up. Of course Arthur would be angry. "Even your maddeningly daunting presence makes it difficult to breathe."

That made Alfred wince but he took it. It hurt but Arthur's broken arm was a lot worse. He took a deep breath, "Look, man, if you really hate me being around you that much then I'll leave you alone, okay? You don't have to insult someone who's supposedly your soulmate."

Arthur snapped his head back to face his faster than a cheetah with his eyes comically wide, "Wha-- That's not what I-- "

"It's nice meeting ya, soulmate. I'll get out of your way now." Alfred rose up from his seat, eyes misting. He really messed it all up. Just when he finally attempted to start something, he'd trip and had his soulmate break his arm while breaking his fall. Alfred suck-- "Ack--! Are you trying to choke me?! Seriously, getting even by strangling me to death?"

His shirt collar loosened up a bit. Damn, Arthur was strong! Enough to asphyxiate someone like his only soulmate. Alfred pulled back on the front of his collar to even out Arthur's intense pulling on the back of his collar. 'Useless with his right hand', his ass! Arthur could still probably lift a coin jar with that hand. "Are you as thick as a jar of peanut butter?" Arthur's English accent got thicker and thicker as he slowly let go of his grip on Alfred's collar to just playing with the hem of Al's wrinkled shirt. "Just... just let me continue and actually listen to what I say."

Alfred immediately resisted from running away in tears and stood silent in the hall with Arthur behind him. He could feel the other pinching and rubbing the cloth of his shirt. Softly, as if fearing Alfred would take off if he made himself louder, Arthur muttered, "I'm left-handed and we are soulmates. I, erm, I need another hand to help me around."

"Eh?" Alfred turned around to face Arthur. The guy's eyes were still focused on the ground but the increasing 'red' tint of his cheeks was, in two words, adorably delectable.

"Just until the cast comes off! It's your duty you know..."

Eeehh? What the--? Really?! How was this guy so--!

"As my soulmate, that is."

Alfred couldn't help himself and put his arms around the smaller frame of his soulmate. "Oh my God!" Alfred exclaimed, glee and relief quickly taking over his mind and heart, "You're so freakin' adorable! I can't--!"

He swayed their bodies to and fro, never faltering the strength he'd put in their embrace. Yes! Yesyesyesyesyeees! Alfred was so lucky!

"This arrangement is only until the cast comes off! Oomph, mind my arm, my arm!"

Suffice to say, the arrangement lasted for the rest of their lives. With Arthur also reciprocating more than the help he needed, of course

[kc-anathema]

☑ 7 different certifications with long videos, quizzes you have to pass with an 80, and then a 24 hour wait time to access the certificates which are hidden behind surveys and in a transcript list, and then have to be uploaded individually

☑ uploading a survey for every household for my second period class, which had to be done individually

☑ emailing every parent of my 2nd period class individually with their Schoology parent code

☑ responding to every single student email regarding Schoology protocols, gradebook protocols, attendance protocols, and their own technological glitches

☑ planning and setting out two weeks of instruction in the school’s daily template with helpful videos

☑ grading four different paragraph assignments, then accepting revisions and late submissions without a late penalty ‘cause that would just be mean

☑ changing over Zoom accounts because the district wanted to wrangle us under their control

☑ freakin’ PLC on Monday...that I take minutes for (natch, I volunteered for that)

☑ walking my dual credits through the intro to their first tremulous narrative essay

☑ mastering the different attendance protocols as they change *and* going back to adjust student attendance based on their work *every day*

☑ remediating my freshmen to write single topic paragraphs. Next week we start proper writing conventions.

☑ watching a surprise T-TESS refresher video and doing nagging little questions through it that “ohhh, beware, your admin can see these responses, oooooh~~”

[dirtyhippyh0b0]

Mannnn I haven't blogged blogged since I was in high school (I graduated in 2004, I'm an ancient and "wise" millenial/geny). Was I on blogger or blogspot? Obviously the background was black with purple and red comic sans type because Edgytm, it was super punk-goth-"don'tcallmeemo". It started out as a place to share my poetry and essays but quickly turned into where I shared Quizilla quiz results, surveys and other things that probably would have fit better on deadjournal.

The last time I checked the comments on that blog after ignoring it for years was someone asking why a blog called satanicelephant contained nothing satanic or zoological whatsoever. My response was just that a satanic elephant was the most ridiculous but wonderful creature I could think of. I had long switched over to MySpace but really only checked it enough to remember my password. My internet activity fared better on Deviantart but I stopped posting "work" there after the copyright scandal of 2007 (maybe?). A college friend convinced me to join Facebook the same year and I fell into the TMI vortex. I was only saved from the FB abyss when my aunt showed up in my comments. But those aren't really blogs.

I once published the first chapter of a phanfiction before losing interest. I mean I had the outline finished but I liked to think that I had "something called a life" and wanted to watch Inuyasha on megavideo during my downtime instead of researching 1800s Paris details and flexing my perfectionism in Word.

I enjoy lurking on Reddit. Memes are still awesome. New Grounds is still pretty cool but I miss YTMND. Not that I ever bothered to make one. I look at FB and Instagram once a month.

Sure I have a WordPress but it's "work-related" (photography) but that's boring and requires reponsability and I keep forgetting my password. I fair better with my Vimeo account because it's not really a choice.

I've been aware of Tumblr for years but have only joined up now.

Ok, now let's be honest: my habit of starting something and not finishing isn't going to change, so really I'm just here to lurk with further ease on fandom blogs and mbti memes. I'm an INTP going through some stuff at the moment (breakup and Ti-Si loop/major avoidance and procrastination) and have an embarrassing crush on Frank Frink from TMITHC: the character, not the actor.

No really: Hellboy is one of my all-time favorite movies and I forgot he was even in that. To be fair it's hard to notice anyone other than the giant red dude with horns. Selma Blair is gorgeous and stole the rest of the show. Now Rupert Evans as Frank Frink? I'm obsessed. With the character, not the actor (that would be creepy). I did however discover the Hacy ship recently and I'm so on it, late though I am to the party. I'm late to everything.

I have a less embarrassing crush/profound appreciation of Eva Green from Penny Dreadful and The Dreamers. The actor, not the characters. She's a freakin' goddess.

I like Harry Potter (I'm a Ravenclaw, what a shocker... I made a character as a teen called the Ravenclaw Slacker and drew some comics with her. She has a crush on Sirius Black but pretends not to), Supernatural, Doctor Who, NightWatch/DayWatch/TwighlightWatch, Community, His Dark Materials, True Blood, Penny Dreadful, the Charmed reboot, Lucifer, TMITHC, Phatom of The Opera, Evil Dead, Big Bang Theory (I am Sheldon), HIMYM, Good Omens, South Park, Studio Ghibli, anything by Taika Watiti, David Lynch, Kubrick, Ed Wood, the Cohen Brothers, Monty Python, Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Watership Down, film noir, horror movies, comix and comics, and musicals. All of the musicals.

I do art and study cinema. Pop culture is a drug. I sometimes read tarot using Mother Peace cards.

Tldr: I miss the old user-run Quizilla ... I'm a hazel tree.

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 6

“I'm gonna paint you by numbers and color you in

If things go right we can frame it and put you on a wall

And it's so hard to say it but I've been here before

Now I'll surrender up my heart and swap it for yours”

-- Lego House, Ed Sheeran

__________

BEEP.

BEEP.

BEEP.

“Fuck,” Penelope grumbles, face down in a mound of pillows. “Turn off freakin’ your phone, Mikaelson!”

Penelope waits for a minute or two, but the alarm keeps on beeping. 

“Ugh!” Penelope flings the comforter off of herself and is hit dead on with the sudden realization of where exactly she is. This isn’t Hope’s bedroom from their apartment, but it’s her dorm room instead. She must’ve fallen asleep last night and never left.

Penelope runs her hands through her tangled mess of hair and takes a moment to collect herself. She once again notices the incessant beeping and looks around the room for its source. There, beside the nightstand sits an alarm clock with a note addressed to her.

Penelope reaches over, hits the alarm off, and then snatches up the note. 

Pen—

Went to go train at the docks. Set my alarm so you wouldn’t sleep the whole Saturday away. Come find me when you get up.

—Hope

P.S. You snore like a full-grown mountain troll.

A small smile crawls across Penelope’s lips. “And you snore like a werewolf with sleep apnea, Furball.” 

Penelope pockets the note, then gathers up her belongings and slips out the door. She starts to move down the deserted hallway, beyond thankful that weekends at Salvatore means everyone is either sleeping in or are off-campus when suddenly--

“Pen?” 

Penelope freezes at the sound of Josie’s voice. “Shit.”

“Did you just leave Hope’s room?” Josie asks. Penelope slowly turns and spots Josie standing in the middle of the hallway, hands-on-hips, with a look of utter confusion written all over her face.

“Sorta…” 

“Sorta?” Josie responds with a quirk of her brow. She moves closer and as she does, Penelope gets a good look at the beaten-up sweatshirt that she’s wearing. 

It’s a navy Salvatore school hooded sweatshirt.

It’s her sweatshirt.

That sweatshirt had been one of Penelope’s prized possessions back when she had attended the school the first time around. It had been one of those articles of clothing that had grown on her over time until it became her go-to comfort item whenever she was feeling under the weather or didn’t want to deal with the outside world. Her metaphorical coat of armor.

Penelope had been sure that she had lost it shortly after she had broken up with Josie. One minute it had been in the pile of clothes on the floor in the corner of her dorm room and the next it was nowhere to be found. She had spent months scouring every inch of the school for her sweatshirt. Even going as far as to question Lizzie as to its whereabouts. But it never turned up. 

Not once. 

Not until this very moment. 

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Penelope questions and Josie’s face instantly ignites with a deep reddish hue. 

“Sorta…”

“Sorta?” Penelope mimics back. She can’t help but feel the beginning of a smirk form as she watches Josie grow visibly flustered.

“Okay. It is. But that’s not the point.” Josie lets out a huff and folds her arms. “Why were you in Hope’s room?”

“I’ve been searching for that sweatshirt for yea-- months now. How’d you get it?”

Josie bites her lip. “I might’ve borrowed it.”

“From my dorm room floor?” 

“Yes. Okay? I took it from your dorm room. Now, can you please stop changing the subject?” 

“I wasn’t changing the subject, Jojo.” Penelope’s smirk widens. “Just asking you a question. That’s all.” 

“Fine. I answered yours, so answer mine. Why were you in Hope’s room?”

“I…” Penelope hesitates as her mind scrambles for a believable enough excuse. 

“You promised,” Josie says softly. Her words are simple but still manage to knock the air right out of Penelope’s lungs. 

No more lies. 

But how?

Penelope swallows down her growing nerves and then runs her hands through her hair, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she does. “I was in Hope’s room because I accidentally passed out in her bed last night.”

“You slept with Hope?” 

“Yes.” Penelope watches as Josie’s eyebrow shoot straight up into her hairline and instantly kicks herself in the ass. “Wait. No. Not in that way. Yes, we slept together in the same bed… but that’s all we did. Sleep. Nothing else. I swear.”

“Okay…”

“I stopped by last night cause Hope needed to talk and ended up falling asleep. I didn’t mean to stay all night but guess I was more exhausted than I thought. I literally just woke up.”

“I can see that,” Josie says. Her features soften once again as she reaches forward and gently tussles Penelope’s hair. 

Penelope breathes an invisible sigh of relief. 

Half-truths. 

That’s the best she can offer at the moment. Nothing more than that. It isn’t ideal. Not by a long shot. But what other option is there?

“Is Hope okay?”

“Yeah,” Penelope replies, thankful for the slight shift in topics. “She’s fine. Just needed someone to talk through some stuff with.” 

“And does that stuff happen to involve my sister?”

“I can’t say.”

“Pen…”

“No can do, Jojo. Besides I’ve said too much already. Hope swore me to secrecy.”

Josie laughs and shakes her head in amused disbelief. “Okay who are you and what have you done with Penelope?” 

“New leaf. Remember?” Penelope matches Josie’s laugh, unable to contain her ever-growing smile. Her inner voice screams at the top of its lungs for her to seize the moment and make a move. Something bold and daring like her 16-year-old self wouldn’t hesitate to do. 

But tapping into that long-dominant side of her isn’t quite as easy as she first thought it would be. Especially not in the presence of Josie Saltzman. 

A slightly awkward silence encompasses them as Penelope watches Josie start to fidget with the frayed string to the hood of her sweatshirt. Another signature tell. One that Penelope as witnessed countless times before. Even after all of these years, she still knows every last one of them. The lip biting. The fidgeting with ends of clothing. The slight tilt of her head-- down and to the left-- whenever growing too embarrassed for words. 

All are committed to Penelope’s memory, like a secret code that only she knows how to decipher. 

“Well I oughta--”

“What are you doing tonight?” Penelope blurts out in a sudden burst of confidence. 

“Nothing really. Probably going to stay in and get a head start on our 17th-century magical artifacts essay. Why?” 

“Want to hang out?” 

“Just the two of us?” Josie asks with a hopeful spark within her chocolate brown eyes.  

“Just you and me.” 

“Sure. I’d love to.” 

“Good,” Penelope responds as she feels herself slipping back into her old cool, confident facade.  “Cause I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh really?” 

Penelope hums a vague response and then adds a smirk for added measure. 

“What is it?” Josie asks, now fully intrigued. 

“Nope. Not telling.”

“C’mon… Not even a hint?” Josie inches closer and instantly Penelope’s senses are overtaken by the distinct mixture of vanilla and orange blossoms. Josie’s signature scent. 

The one that Penelope tried to recreate for at least two good years after departing from Salvatore to no avail. 

It smells like home. 

“Nope,” Penelope replies, pausing to inhale another breath of the intoxicating aroma. “You’ll just have to wait and see… Pick you up at 6?” 

“It’s a date,” Josie says and then without warning, leans in and plants a tender kiss on Penelope’s cheek, instantly rendering the raven-haired girl utterly useless.

“A date.” Penelope manages to produce a small nod in confirmation and watches as Josie takes off down the hallway.

__________

“Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…” Penelope paces the length of her dorm room a short while later. She runs her hands through her short curls, again and again, trying her best to keep her nerves in check. 

Two hours. 

Penelope has two hours left and… Nothing. 

Not even an inkling of an idea. 

“Fuck!” Penelope stops pacing and flops down onto her bed with a heavy sigh. 

“Hey, Park… Are you in-- Whoa!” Hope says as she opens Penelope’s dorm room door and comes to a crashing halt at the scene before her. Penelope’s room has been transformed into a massive wreckage of belongings with clothes and books covering almost every inch of space. “What happened?”

Penelope sits up at the sound of Hope’s voice. “Josie Saltzman. That’s what happened.”

“Josie wrecked your room?”

“Not exactly…” Penelope falls back down once again against the bed and Hope moves to join her. 

“Okay. I’m not following… What does this have to do with Josie?”

“Josie saw me coming out of your room this morning.”

“Oh…” Hope’s eyes widen with a sudden understanding. “She didn’t think that we…”

“She did at first for like a minute but I was able to convince her that it wasn’t what she thought it was.”

“Thank god.”

“You’re telling me,” Penelope replies. “Not exactly the rumor I need running rampant around here at the moment… Especially given my circumstances.”

“So then why the Park-nado in here?”

“I asked Josie out.” Penelope exhales and runs her hands again through her hair. 

“And…?”

“And what?”

“And what else happened?” Hope responds still not fully following.

“That’s it,” Penelope says. She pulls herself off of the bed and returns to pacing the room. “I asked Josie to hang out with me tonight and made a big fucking deal about having some sort of grand plan up my sleeve and she said yes.”

“Okay… And her saying yes is a bad thing?” 

“No… Yes… Maybe…” Penelope pauses in front of her semi-empty closet and flips through the few remaining items of clothing again and again in hopes that she might’ve missed a hidden top or skirt amongst the rest of her wardrobe. “I dunno.”

“Why are you so stressed out? It’s Josie. You could show up in sweats with Chinese takeout and she would still think it was amazing.” 

“No she wouldn’t.”

Hope lets out a frustrated sigh and then pulls herself up off of the bed. She moves about the room, strategically gathering straying articles of clothing as she does. “What is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing. It’s just…” Penelope trails off as her fingers wander up towards her neck in search for her non-existing scar. “I thought I would have more time, you know?”

Hope walks over and shoves a pile of clothes into Penelope’s arms. “But you don’t. You’ve got what? Three days? So kick it into high gear, Park.” 

“I’m trying to.”

“No. You’re hiding out and making excuses.”

“Am not,” Park fires back but is only met with a hard eye roll from Hope.

“Are too… And why are you even dragging your heels in the first place on this? The Penelope Park I know sure as hell doesn’t freak out about anything… including Josie Saltzman.” 

Penelope doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she carefully looks over the clothes that Hope picked out for her, piece by piece as if she’s discovering them for the first time. Penelope stops on a pair of black leather pants and a small but noticeable smile unfolds upon her face. 

“What?” Hope asks picking up on Penelope’s sudden fascination with the pair of pants.

“These are your favorites.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah. These leather pants and a motorcycle jacket you got off of a witch in Istanbul. You wear them all the time. So much so that Caroline went and got you like four back up pairs for Christmas last year.” 

Hope can’t help but laugh as she lets this newfound piece of information settle in. “Really? Those pants?” 

Penelope nods. “The exact same pair. You stole them from my laundry pile during the first month we were living together and never gave them back.” 

“Interesting…”

“Here. Have them,” Penelope says and then tosses the pants at Hope.

“No, I couldn’t… They’re yours.”

“Take them. Besides they look way better on you than they ever did on me.” 

“Thanks,” Hope replies quietly while studying the pants. She sits back down on the bed and Penelope joins her, still holding onto the rest of the clothes. She watches Hope traces over the smooth leather with her fingers for a moment or two, knowing that the Tribrid needs time to process. 

She always does.  

And Penelope gives it to her, without hesitation. That’s just how it works with the two of them. Regardless of whether it’s the future or the past… or some hybrid in between. 

“Huh… Leather pants and a motorcycle jacket. Sounds pretty badass.”

“Oh you are,” Penelope answers with a smile. “Of course not as badass as me, but pretty damn close.”

“So what else should I know about my future self? I know you can’t tell me everything, but looks-wise… What else? Do I have any tattoos?”

“Tattoos yes. You’ve got like five… No, wait… You’ve got six. There’s the one on your left wrist that you keep hidden from view by your watch.” 

“What’s it of?”

“It’s an E and an S,” Penelope says and then sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, bracing herself for the inevitable follow up question.

“Elizabeth Saltzman…” 

Penelope nods. “Yeah.”

“Okay… What about piercings? Cause I’ve always wanted to get my septum--” 

“No!” Penelope cuts Hope off. “No septum piercing.”

“Um… I’m taking it there’s a story?”

“Oh yeah. A big one that involves a Bulgarian vampire and stolen 15th-century daylight ring and me having to magically piece your nose back together.”

“You’re joking, right?” Hope replies in sheer disbelief. 

“God do I wish I was… Just trust me on the septum piercing, okay? It’s so not worth it and you look way better without it.” 

Hope shakes her head and smiles. “Alright. I believe you. No piercings.” 

“Oh, I didn’t say that… The nipples were a great choice and also--”

“Okay, you can stop now. I’m good. Thanks,” Hope says unable to hide the sudden underlying sense of shock in her voice.

“Too much?” 

“Just a little bit, yeah.” Hope leans across Penelope and fishes out an old concert t-shirt and a pair of perfectly ripped light gray jeans. “Here. Wear these.”

“These?” Penelope asks checking out the outfit. “You sure?”

“100%. Josie has mentioned that t-shirt at least ten times in the last three months. It’s a favorite for sure.” Hope rises to her feet and stretches, cracking her neck in the process. “Okay, I need to go get up close and personal with a hot bath before my muscles start to cramp up. But you’ve got this, Park. Just show up and be your annoying, smart-ass self and everything will go great. Trust me.”

“Thanks.” Penelope gives Hope an earnest smile and Hope returns it with a firm nod.

“Sure thing.” 

Penelope waits until Hope disappears through the dorm room door, before getting up off of her bed and walking over to the full-length mirror. She holds the outfit up against her body and gives herself a long, hard look. 

“I’ve got this,” Penelope says and then exhales, expelling the last of her fears and doubts in the process.