#each others sentences and falling hand in hand into nostalgia. they each want the other to give in SO badly. they’re never going to ask it.

[trollbreak]

Man I need an unhappy but stubborn marriage ship huh

[katiexpunk]

Summertime Sadness

Pairing: Mr. Ben X fem!Reader | W/C: ~4.3K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: With your Senior year coming to a close, Mr. Ben tells you how he feels about your class behavior. Some lessons are hard to learn.

Warnings: Dub-con (could even say non-con) dark themes. This fic absolutely contains an exploitation of authority. You alone are responsible for what you consume on this platform; just keep scrolling if that’s not your cup of tea. Student/teacher relationship. Dom/Sub undertones. Age gap. Reader just turned 18. Sexual tension. Blatant flirting. Teasing. Bratty behavior. Use of sir. Use of daddy. Semi-public sex. Desk sex. Loss of virginity. Orgasm denial (!! the fic theme per the challenge). Light spanking. Crying. Some Spanish. Unprotected rough P in V. Oral (both). Creampie. Dirty talk. A smidge of degradation. Twisted morals. No aftercare. A/N: I have to say, writing orgasm denial for Mr. Ben was definitely not something I saw on being on my 2024 dance card, but I’m here for it. This fic was written as part of @iamasaddie Kinky May follower celebration. Aly, congrats babe. Thanks for the fun prompt.

Fic title and final line inspired that song. You know the one. Minimally edited.

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Fresh off the heels of your 18th birthday, you stride into the final day of your senior year. 

Only two classes left. It feels strange, a bittersweet blend of nostalgia and excitement. In some ways, you've acknowledged your growth, recognizing the woman you’re becoming. In others, many things have remained the same—the bright pink on your bedroom walls, the frill of your bedspread, the chipped glitter on your nails. But in many ways, everything has changed.

You certainly no longer look like a young girl; boys are suddenly turning heads left and right. Your shirts fill out more, and your jeans are tighter. You stand taller now, and your reflection in the mirror reveals confidence you didn’t have a year ago. 

Your dad now gets very nervous when the weekend arrives and you tell him you have movie plans. He hides his worry behind a weak smile and a stern warning. You roll your eyes but appreciate his concern. You wonder how he might react if you told him it’s not the boys he has to worry about in the first place. 

You have fun with them, of course. It doesn’t take much—a flick of a pen, a pop of gum, and a good push-up bra—but none of them have ever really captured your attention. No, after the lights go out, with your hand between your thighs, you let yourself dream of rough hands, the tickle of a beard on your soft skin, and a much firmer, much older presence.

So what if he’s your teacher? 

Cyndi Lauper said it best, girls just want to have fun.  ++++

“Excelente, Matt. Muy bien hecho (excellent, Matt. Very well done),” you hear Mrs. Martinez say shortly before she turns to you, red lipstick smudged on her teeth. 

¿Puedes decir, "Next month, I intend to participate in a cultural exchange program with students from Spain."

Despite having spent the past year in this class, you haven’t really gotten much better. You might be if Spanish just didn’t happen to fall right before English, before his class. 

You pause, wide-eyed and suddenly very nervous. 

“Uhh –,” you clear your throat. “El próximo mes, tengo la intención de participar en un programa…” you pause again, looking at her for any sign of reassurance that you’re not totally messing the sentence up, “de intercambio cultural con estudiantes de España…” you elongate the a in España, almost a question to it. 

“Perfecto,” she praises “Excelente pronunciación y uso del subjuntivo (excellent pronunciation and use of the subjunctive).” 

You sink back into your seat, satisfied and self-assured. The clock on the wall suddenly commands your attention, each tick a tiny torment, counting down the minutes until the next period. Your last class. Not just the end of the day this time, but what feels like the end of an era. 

Your stomach feels like it’s in knots, your palms suddenly a little clammy. You're unsure if it’s the lingering anxiety from the pop quiz or the bittersweet realization that you won’t see Mr. Ben after this.

You knew this moment would come; you had prepared for it. If this was the last time you’d see him, you figured, why not put on a little show? That’s why you slipped into a short skirt and a dainty little tank top this morning. You swear you saw your mother clutch her pearls when you walked out the door, but she didn’t bother to say anything, and you knew she wouldn’t, not since your last argument. “Mom, I’m 18 now, I can dress however I want,” you had said. 

This wasn’t entirely new. You’ve slowly gotten more and more suggestive in your outfits over the progression of the year, particularly in Mr. Ben’s class. You didn’t mind hiding behind a hoodie or a sweater in your other periods, but you always made sure to tuck that into your backpack before English. 

It hadn’t been your plan at first, but when you showed up in his class earlier this year, your white tank top soaked from the rain, you noticed how he couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way his eyes fluttered down to your hard nipples hidden behind the transparent fabric. 

But there was something different about the way he looked at you, unlike how the boys in your grade did. His gaze held something deeper, something darker, perhaps. He looked at you as if you were the devil sent to destroy him and an angel destined to save him all at once.

And you love it. 

Week by week, you began dressing a little more suggestively. You couldn't help but smile when you approached him after class one day, wearing a pretty sundress that hinted at the creases between your thighs and ass if you bent over just right, and he went beet red. 

You had spent the entire year chipping away at the exterior he had built to maintain any sense of professionalism.

And today was the day you were going to watch it all crumble.

++++

To your dismay, Mr. Ben hardly spends any time looking at you during class. In fact, he seems to be trying to look anywhere but. You do your best to catch his attention. You even go as far as to pull a lollipop out of your bag, provocatively sucking on it in the hopes of catching his eye.

Despite your best efforts, he pays you no mind. 

Your heart sinks when the final bell rings, and Mr. Ben wishes the rest of the class a good summer and says he'll see everyone at graduation. 

You can't hide the disappointment on your face as you start to pack up your bag, the sweetness of the lollipop on your tongue a stark contrast to your now gray mood. Just as the rest of the students shuffle out of the room, you hear him call your name, asking you to stay behind. You pause, curiosity piqued despite your lingering disappointment, and turn to face him, wondering what he could possibly want you to stay behind for.

The classroom empties, and he closes the door, leaving an electric silence hanging in the air at the sound of the lock. You turn to face him, heart pounding in your chest. His eyes finally meet yours, and you see a flicker of the same tension that has been simmering all year. 

"You wanted me to stay?" you ask, the lollipop pinched between your fingers, still toying with it on your lips.

"Yes, I did," he says, rounding the desk and coming to sit on the front of it, arms crossed over his chest. His broad frame fills your vision, the dress shirt clinging to his skin just right, his salt-and-pepper curls framing the crease between his brows.

You drop your bag on a nearby desk and take a step closer to him.

"I've been really disappointed with your behavior this past year," he rasps, his voice firm.

And oh. It catches you off guard. 

"And why is that, Mr. Ben?" you ask, playing the innocent card, deciding to go along with whatever this is, your attention mostly on the sweet stickiness of the lollipop on your tongue.

He scoffs, but his eyes are glued to your mouth. “Please, sweetheart. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been looking at me, dressing like a little slut just to catch my eye."

“Oh, so you did notice then…” you say, your voice teasing as you swirl the lollipop in your mouth.

"You like tarting yourself out for a grown man, sweetheart? Someone old enough to be your daddy?" He rises to stand and towers over you. His eyes glaze over your face, that same darkness even stronger now. His pupils are dark enough to edge out the brown, while your eyes are bright enough to cut glass as you look up at him.

"And what if I say yes?" you ask, removing the lollipop and holding it between your bodies. Your eyes drop to his lips, watching as his jaw tenses and the vein in his forehead becomes more pronounced. He seems to wrestle with his thoughts for a moment before his gaze locks onto yours, intense and scrutinizing. 

"Come on, Mr. Ben, don't you want a taste?" you say suggestively, your voice dripping with playful teasing. Slowly, you rub the glassy texture of the candy over his lips. His eyes widen slightly, and his lips instinctively part. With a hint of a smile, he accepts the candy on his tongue, savoring the sweet flavor as it dissolves.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I do," he groans, his voice rough with desire. He breaks the lollipop with his teeth, the hardness crunching audibly. The sweet shards scatter across his tongue, and he grins at you like he wants to do the same to you. 

His hands find your hips, and he pulls you into him, his cheek grazing the soft skin of your jaw as he dips to your neck. His lips latch onto your skin, sucking gently, leaving a mark, eliciting a soft moan from you. 

He pulls back, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Naughty fuckin’ girl, I oughta teach you a different kind of lesson, one you might actually listen to. Poor little baby’s been too cock drunk in my class, probably didn’t learn a damn thing in this class all year, did you?” 

"No, sir," you giggle, your laughter light and playful. He responds with a low groan, the sound filled with a mix of frustration and arousal.

“Guess we’re gonna have to do something about that,” his hands drop to your ass, and he plants a firm smack on your backside with his right hand. 

“I’m gonna tell you what to do, but I’m not gonna tell you twice,” he says as his large palm comes up to hold the column of your throat, his thumb just under your jaw, tilting you up to face him.

“When I tell you to get on your knees, you’re gonna do it,” he says, voice low. “If I tell you to look at me, you’re gonna do it,” he continues, “And if I tell you not to touch yourself, you’re not going to,” he says, dipping his face lower to you. You wonder if he can feel your pulse quickening under his hand, caught in a lusty daze fueled by hot breath and the sight of his blown pupils.

“Tell me you understand,” he commands, not really questioning.

“Yes,” you rasp. 

“Yes, what?” 

You look up at him, confusion painted on your face, but then you realize what he’s asking for, what he’s giving you. What he wants you to call him. 

“Yes, daddy. I understand,” you say, tightening your grip on his forearm, feeling his muscles' strength still grasp you, pulling you closer to him.

He looks down at you, apparently satisfied. 

You think for a moment he might kiss you, his lips barely an inch from yours, but he doesn’t.

“Oh so you are capable of listening,” he praises, releasing his grip on you.

“Get on your fucking knees, baby. You wanna dress like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”

His words wrack through you, the filth and the promise behind them sending shivers down your spine. You fall to your knees, feeling the hard, scuffed-up linoleum beneath you. Positioning yourself beneath him, you fold your hands in your lap, waiting for his next command. He reaches down, his pointer finger lifting your chin to face him. He runs his thumb slowly over your lips, even his touch is demanding. 

“Been thinkin’ about what this pretty little mouth could do all year long.”

As he releases you, you take that as permission and reach out to undo the buckle of his belt. You momentarily fumble with the cool metal until it’s completely unbuckled before you begin working with the zipper on his slacks. You tug both his pants and his underwear down just below his hips, and his thick length springs to attention.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the size of him. He’s big. His cock is already at full attention, red and weeping. Your mouth waters at the sight of it. You look up at him, silently asking for permission to touch him, and he nods. 

“Go on,” he says, and your hand comes to wrap around the base of him. The thought of all of him being yours stirs something low in your belly. If something is so wrong, why does it feel so right? 

You stroke along his length, feeling the silky warmth of his skin, the heat, and the thick veins that add texture to each pass of your palm. You pause at the top of him and let out a little squeeze until a small bead of precum forms at the tip. You lap it up, and he lets out a groan, and his hands fall to grab the back of your neck.

“Keep that mouth wide open for me,” he orders. 

You part your lips and tease your tongue around and then start sucking on the tip, slowly taking more in until you’re sucking on the full head of his cock, and your tongue is whirling around it. His grip on the back of your neck tightens, and he gently cants his hips forward, urging you to take more of him.

You’re barely halfway down, and the back of his cock is already on your throat. You start bobbing your head up and down, and he mutters a little curse under his breath and bites down on his lip.

“Look so pretty with your teacher’s cock down your sweet little throat,” you moan around him, the sound reverberating against him, “This what you wanted, hmm? Needed your throat fucked like a slut?”

Your thighs clench together, a syrupy mess of your own slick smears on your skin beneath your skirt, barely contained in the thin strip of your thong, his filthy words adding to the roaring ache in your cunt. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him as you notice him stiffen just a little more. 

He holds your head and forces you to pick up the pace, pushing yourself to take more of him. He thrusts firmly, meeting your movements along his shaft.

“Tha’s it, just like that…” his groans are lecherous, coupled with the profane sounds of you gagging on his cock. It’s rough. He’s bigger, thicker than any high school boy you’ve ever had in your mouth. You can hardly breathe, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

He tightens his grip on your hair and fucks your mouth the way he wants to, the way you always hoped he would. When you try to pull off of him to catch your breath, he tsks at you, and holds you on his cock for a second longer before letting go and letting you off him to catch your breath. 

You cough and try to fill your lungs with fresh air. He takes a moment to watch you wipe the saliva and precum from your mouth with the back of your hand. It’s a vulgar sight, his freshly legal student on her knees in his classroom, mascara smudged from the tears you’ve begun to cry from his cock. He commits it to memory. 

“That was your first lesson,” he rasps, “Now it’s time for your second.” 

You rise, your knees burning from the harshness of the floor. He takes a step forward, guiding you back until your backside presses against the front of the desk. His knuckles trail over the front of your body, pausing on the swell of your breasts before dipping lower to the edge of your skirt. With a deft flick of his wrist, the pads of his fingers graze over the front of your sex, feeling the wetness that has soaked through the fabric.

“I’d ask if this is all for me, but I already know it is. Sloppy little cunt has been dripping for me all year, hasn’t it?” he coos, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric, grazing against your clit. You gasp in response. He uses his fingers to draw a few tight circles on your clit, eliciting a moan from you as he does. 

“Please, daddy. Need it so bad.” 

“Misbehavin all year, and you really think you deserve to come?”

He uses his middle finger and prods at the entrance of your wet hole. You pout. 

“Daddy, please, I’ll be a good girl from now on, I promise.” 

“I don’t think you will, sweetheart. Can’t be giving ya whatever you want. Everything comes with a set of consequences,” he kisses your neck and continues to tease your clit. 

“Including fucking your teacher,” he rasps in your ear, punctuating it with a bite on the flesh there. He shoves his middle finger up into your cunt. You yelp, it’s so much, almost too much. 

He moans in response. 

“Oh, and you’re tight, too. Thought you might be. You ever been fucked here?” 

“No…” you sound shy saying it. 

“Never?” he asks, eyebrows raised. 

“No, only ever fingers,” you whine as he slips another finger in. There’s a stretch and a burn from the intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. You’re so wet that the burn is beginning to lessen as he gently moves his fingers inside of you. 

“Gonna be a teacher’s pet, and let me help you out with that? Gotta earn it to get back on my good side, and you can start by givin’ up that sweet little v-card of yours to me.” 

You look up at him, a little unsure, a little nervous. You glance down at his cock, he’s so big, you’re not sure you can take all of him, but you know you want to try. 

“Yes – yes, daddy.” 

“Lay down on the desk,” he commands, and you listen. 

Your upper back rests on the oak desk, draped over the final grades for the year. There's just enough room for your hips to slightly dangle off the edge, with his hips positioned between your legs.

He pauses to admire the way you look up at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your perky tits still in your bra, a little sheen of sweat on your chest. He notes the way you still look flustered from taking him in his mouth, still a little nervous. He smiles, knowing he’s going to fuck every ounce of that right out of you.

He wants to claim ownership of every inch of your body, and he doesn’t want to wait any longer.

He drops to his own knees this time, hooking his thumbs into your underwear to pull them down with him. His face immediately finds your cunt, and he wastes no time before he lays a trail of soft kisses over your wet and waiting folds. He starts slow, a kiss here, a lap there, and eventually begins to pick up his pace.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you again, and this time you're ready for it. Your hips cant up at the welcomed intrusion, and your back arches, unable to stay on the desk. You feel his hot breath on your pussy and let out a small mmm at the way he presses his forearm across your lower half to lower you back down to the desk, to keep you still.

His mouth returns to your clit to work you, and he adds another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close – your slow crawl to the cliff of your orgasm turns into a full-on sprint. As if he couldn’t already tell from the way you’re moving, you verbally confirm your closeness for him. 

“Please,” you moan. “Please – ugh, need to come, please let me come,” you beg.

“You come when I say you can,” he says, voice slightly muffed against your wet skin.

He presses his lips against your clit, but doesn’t give you enough tongue to get you where you need to go. You’re already so swollen, sensitive – you know all you’ll need is a little suck, and you’ll be gone.

You don’t know how much longer you can stave off your pleasure, but you want to be good for him, to listen, to obey.

He knows you want to come, that’s obvious, and god does he want to know what you look like when you do, to feel it, to be the reason; but still, he continues to tease and let it build. Your face twists, your jaw goes slack, and your eyes close and it all but screams I’m close, make me come, make me come. 

It’s all too much, way too much. Tears begin to fall from your eyes. 

“Consequences, sweetheart,” he rasps, “you gotta learn.” 

He sucks your clit into his mouth and he grazes it with the top of his tongue and closes around you. You flutter your eyes closed. You warn him that you’re close, “Daddy, fuck, please let me come. I’ve learned my lesson, I swear,” you rasp out your pleas with a symphony of moans.

Satisfied with your pleading, he decides to take mercy on you. He looks up at you through his thick lashes, drinking in the way he has you melting, the way he has you crying, begging for him. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I believe you. Go ahead and come, want you to soak my face,” he says, voice hoarse but still smooth like velvet.

You obey and feel the taste of your sweet release rush through you like a warm summer breeze on a hot day. Your vision goes white, and your whole body tenses with pleasure as he works you through it.

“You gonna tell your daddy thank you for letting you come?” His dilated pupils tell you he’s high on it; on you. His beard shines with your slick under the harsh fluorescents. 

And shit, it’s filthy. He looks indecent in the most delectable of ways.

“Go on, wanna hear you say it,” he says, grabbing his thick cock in hand and lining the head of it up against your wet and waiting hole, pausing there before pressing in, waiting to hear your gratitude for what he gave to you. You let out a little whine.

“Thank you, daddy,” you tell him, and he nods, once more satisfied. Both of his hands come to your hips, surely leaving little bruises under his strong grip. Your slick makes it easy for him to bury himself in you to the hilt, even with the size of him.

“You sure you’re a virgin? Sure are taking this cock like it’s your fucking job, like it was made for me, aren’t you?” 

He pauses for a moment to give you a second to adjust; you feel so full, you swear you feel him in your lungs. He begins a relentless pace, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, the obscene sounds of the clapping noises fill the classroom. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, thank you, oh fuck,” you cry.

“That’s right. Say thank you for giving you this cock, for fucking you smart,” he commands.

Thank you – thrust – tha - thrust – thank you, fuck, thrust.

“Please tell me you’re on the pill or somethin’, wanna fill up this tight cunt, give her a taste of what she’s been asking for all year,” he groans as he continues thrusting into you. 

“I am, I’m on the pill, please, daddy, give it to me.” 

“Fuck, shit. Gonna fill this tight pussy up.” He fills you deeply, pausing buried deep inside of you, and you feel him explode inside of you. Your breath comes in stilted as the world begins to fade back in. 

When he takes a step back, his tip smears against your inner thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your flesh. You bring your hand to cup your pussy, collecting the cum in your palm. You catch most of it, but some of it smears and pools onto the papers below. 

He pulls up his pants and walks across the classroom to a box of tissues on the back wall. He hands them to you, and you use them to clean yourself up. You both adjust your clothing in silence. Once you're both fully dressed, you stand there quietly, the weight of the moment settling heavily between you.

"You did good. I'll make sure you get an A for your final grade," he says, his voice hollow and detached. He avoids your gaze, the weight of his actions now sinking in, the line he's crossed glaringly obvious. You open your mouth to say something, but he's already turned away, striding towards the door. Without a word, he opens it and holds it for you, the silence between you deafening.

"Have a good summer," he tells you, his tone almost too casual. "I'll see you at graduation."

You try not to read into what he might mean by that. 

You walk away from him, feeling a little used, confused, changed. 

Somehow, everything and nothing has changed at the same time. As you walk away, a whirlwind of emotions churns inside you. 

What's summertime without a little sadness?

END

Tagging some moots who might enjoy: @toxicanonymity @syd-djarin @endlessthxxghts @auteurdelabre @yxtkiwiyxt @joelmillerisapunk @xdaddysprincessxx @javipispunk @survivingandenduring

[elizabethemerald]

Flying Grason and Circus Gothica DPxDC

AO3

Prompt by @hypewinter ;

Richard Grayson crouched next to one of Gotham’s signature gargoyles, dressed in his Nightwing uniform. He stared down at what had, until just the last week, been an empty lot. Now the lot was filled with the lights and color of a traveling circus. Circus Gothica had come to visit Gotham and Dick’s family wanted to give him a pick-me-up. They had attended the circus, and while Dick had been filled with nostalgia at the displays, he couldn't help a feeling of dread. The tightrope walker… she didn’t seem… The sound of a pair of heavy boots landing on the roof behind him shook him out of his thoughts. 

“What are we doing here, Dickard?” Jason, wearing his full Redhood get up, including his helmet, asked from behind him. Dick turned to face his frequently estranged brother for a moment before returning his attention to the circus below them, now long closed for the night. 

“We are going to investigate this circus for anything suspicious.” Dick said, keeping his focus on the circus. He heard the rattling noise that he knew came from Jason sighing into his voice modulator. 

“I meant, what am I doing here? If you needed to investigate this place why didn’t you call the Brat or the Replacement. Either of the girls would have worked as well.” 

“I needed you here.” Dick said. Jason walked up next to him on the other side of the gargoyle. “I knew if I said I have a bad feeling about the circus without proof everyone else, except for maybe Cass would have dismissed me. ‘Oh it’s just the trauma speaking.’ But I know what I saw. The tightrope walker, she wasn’t willing. I think she was being forced to perform, her motions were too mechanical, as if she wasn’t all there.” 

“And you needed me over Cass because if they are abusing their performers you’re going to beat them to within an inch of their lives and Cass would have stopped you.” Jason said. “Well if you want to save that girl, I’m here for-”

Jason whirled mid-sentence, drawing both guns from his sides and aiming them at something behind them. Dick turned with him, pulling his escrima as he turned but he couldn’t see whatever it was that Jason had reacted to. Jason stayed focused on a single point in space at the far end of the roof. 

“Show yourself!” He barked. 

After a few seconds, during which Jason didn’t waver in his focus, someone faded into view. The kid looked like he was eighteen, maybe nineteen, just a year younger than Jason. He had wavy black hair, blue eyes and was wearing a NASA shirt. Total adoption bait, Dick thought to himself. The guy was holding his hands up in surrender and had a desperate look in his eye. 

“You two are heroes, right?” He asked, his hands still raised. 

Jason and Dick glanced at each other. 

“Yeah, we’re heroes. I’m Nightwing, this is Redhood. Why were you spying on us?” 

“I heard you talking about the tightrope walker, you’re right she is unwilling. Please, I need you to help me, the ringleader, Freakshow, is using mind control on her.” The boy fell to his knees as he begged. “Please, Ancients, please help me. They’re killing her. Please, they're killing her.” 

There was an undeniable desperation in his voice. Dick hesitated for a moment, there was a chance, however slim, that this person was merely a fantastic actor, especially now that the topic of mind-control had been brought up. He was trying to formulate some way to confirm what this person had said other than his own gut feeling when Jason stepped forward, holstering his guns as he did. 

“He’s telling the truth.” Jason said. 

Well Dick had asked him to come because they were team gut instinct, so might as well trust Jason on this one. He returned his escrima to his back. The boy practically collapsed in relief onto the rooftop, falling to his hands and knees for a moment before he started to rise. Jason helped pull him to his feet. 

“Alright, talk. What do you know?” Jason said. 

“Freakshow is the alias used by the Ring-leader. He uses a staff to control… people. The staff should have been destroyed.” He practically growled when he said that. Actually, Dick was certain he really did growl, he arched an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. “If the staff is taken from him then he loses control over the… people.” 

Dick could hear that the boy was hiding something. Considering the inhuman growl and the slight flash of his eyes, along with the invisibility, he was going to guess that by people, he meant metas. The last thing Gotham needed was mind control focused meta trafficking ring in the city. 

“You said they were killing her? How? Why?” 

He looked away from them, his eyes flicking side to side as he tried to order his thoughts. He was either coming up with a lie or trying to decide how much information to share with them. 

“Ellie… she’s… sick. I have medicine for her. If I can get it to her in time I can save her, but if I get close while Freakshow still has the staff he’ll take control of me. I have some training and some resistance, but it might not be enough. The staff he’s using is ancient, he’s controlled me before but I was able to fight it off. I’m not certain I would be able to do so again, and it’s too much of a risk to try.” 

It seemed the boy had decided on a half truth. The girl, Ellie, was certainly unwell, and her life was in more danger with every second that ticked passed, but what she was sick with and what the medicine for her were were unclear. Jason seemed to pick up on that as well. 

“We’ll get her out of there. And all the rest of them. But when we’re done we’re going to have a long talk.” Jason growled. 

The boy looked up at them, desperation once again shining naked on his face. 

“If you save her I will tell you anything I am able to. I promise. Please just save her and bring her to me.” 

“We will. We’re heroes. It’s what we do.” Dick said, trying to project all the confidence he could to assure the boy. Speaking of which… “By the way, what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you ‘kid’ in my head.” 

“I’m Danny. And I’m not a kid.” Danny had grimaced when Dick had mentioned being a hero, perhaps he had a bad history with heroes? Now he kind of wished he had brought Cass along with him on this venture, she would have been much better at reading this kid. And he was definitely a kid, a teenaged father to an even younger, kidnapped daughter. 

“Ok, Danny. Is there anything else you can tell us about this Freakshow?” 

Danny pulled a backpack from…somewhere, then rustled around on the inside for a few seconds. He slowly stuck his arm further and further inside until his shoulder was ready to disappear before he pulled back. Certainly the bag wasn’t large enough by itself for him to do that. Dick shot a glance at Jason and he could practically feel the matching raised eyebrow even through Jason’s helmet. Danny finally leaned back and tossed two bracelets to the two heroes. 

“I’ve had these built for years just in case, and I’ve been carrying them with me since Ellie was taken. These will keep you safe from Freakshow’s mind control.” 

The bracelets weren’t exactly high fashion, but they didn’t look bad. If Dick was going to place a guess, he would say that Danny had modified and improved upon another’s design. That would be something they would have to ask once this was over. Jason grunted in discomfort when he snapped his on. 

“If these work so well, how don’t wear one to better resist Freakshow?” Jason had a hint of strain in his voice that Dick couldn’t quite figure out. 

Danny reached over as if to grab Dick’s wrist except a spark of toxic green electricity arced off the bracelet to shock Danny’s hand. He gave the bracelet a grim look. Then looked up at them apologetically. 

“If only it were that simple. I haven’t been able to find any technological protection from Freakshow’s mind-control that doesn’t also harm me.” Then he turned to Jason, a look of concern on his face. “Speaking of which, it doesn’t hurt you too badly does it?” 

Dick was confused by that statement. He hadn’t noticed any pain or discomfort coming from the bracelet he now wore on his wrist. Jason however, waggled his hand back and forth in a so-so gesture. 

“It’s not the worst pain I’ve ever experienced.” He said shortly. 

“No, I imagine it wouldn’t be.” Danny said as if sharing an inside joke with Jason and considering his snort he apparently got it. Dick hated not being on a joke, but he figured this one he was probably happy not to have personal experience with. Danny’s face settled into a more determined look. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to help you, please, just get Ellie out and safe as quickly as possible. Please, I can’t lose her too.” 

They nodded and turned together and jumped from the roof. Dick wanted to think more about Danny and his various strangeness, but he needed to focus on the task at hand. They had a little girl to save. 

.

In the end, stopping Freakshow wasn’t easy, but it also wasn’t nearly as difficult as some of their usual rogues. On the one hand, the performers that Freakshow controlled had powers, something Danny completely failed to mention. They could fly, turn invisible, phase into the ground, even fire off some kind of green energy bolts that reminded Dick far too much of Starfire’s starbolts. On the other hand, none of these powers seemed to be very effective against the two heroes. 

The starbolts didn’t do anything more than tickle Dick, and while they seemed to hurt Jason more, the two of them were well used to avoiding incoming fire from their enemies. They were usually dodging bullets, which moved faster, hurt more and were more lethal than the starbolts, so the performers were mostly useless at range. 

Up close whatever shield Danny had given them kept the performers from touching them, each of them falling back with arcs of electricity jumping between their fingers. It helped that under Freakshow’s control the performers just kept trying to jump or fly into them with a full bodied tackle. Any goon in the goonion knew better than to try to just tackle one of the bat clan. Dick guessed it had something to do with the powers the performers demonstrated, but he set it aside as something to ask Danny about once they were out of there. 

Just when the two Bats were within sight of Freakshow the lights of the big top came on, including a spotlight focused on the high wire. Freakshow stepped back and gestured with the staff in his hands towards where the lone acrobat, the little girl, Danny’s Ellie, stood balanced on the wire. 

“Now, now, little bats! If you take even one step closer a little ghost child will fall to her second death. I’d hate for her to splatter all over the ground of the Big Top!” Freakshow said, with a grin as demented as one of the Joker’s. 

Ellie moved slowly across the tightrope. Dick could immediately pick up on that same mechanical, emotionless movement that had first drawn his attention. He could see that she was being controlled now that he had the confirmation. He could also see just how tired she was, she sagged against the control of her body, any part of her that wasn’t actively being controlled by Freakshow drooped as if she wanted to pass out from exhaustion. Dick just hoped that whatever medicine Danny had for his daughter worked. 

“I’ve got another idea. Nightwing?” Jason growled the words, his modulator making him sound even more inhuman. Dick glanced at his brother and gave him the subtlest of nods. They moved immediately, perfectly in sync. Jason pulled his guns and fired off a few rounds, rubber bullets and all. Dick fired his grapple and rose as the control staff was shot out of Freakshow’s hand. 

Ellie came back to herself and wobbled for a second before she slipped off the wire, gravity immediately taking hold of her. For a second, Dick flashed back to another family falling from the peak of the big top. He remembered the feeling of horror that filled him as his parents fell to their death. He couldn’t allow another family to go through that. Not this time. Ellie falls and Dick was there to meet her. 

The poor girl shivered and shook in his arms as he carefully lowered the two of them to the ground. Large green tears fell from her eyes and her breath rattled in and out of her chest. She grabbed onto his uniform with desperate fingers and seemed to pass out immediately in his arms. Dick dearly wanted to beat Freakshow into submission for what he had done to her, but she very clearly needed her medicine more. Jason settled for breaking Freakshow’s arm before knocking him out and cuffing him. Surprisingly the rest of Freakshow’s victims had vanished into thin air once the staff left his hands. 

Dick carried Ellie back to the rooftop where they had left Danny. The whole time she kept her eyes closed and shook in his arms. Jason carried the staff Freakshow had used, though he held it like it was something foul and offended him personally. Danny had been watching them come and as soon as they were on the roof as well had his arms out for his daughter. Dick handed her off willingly, and Danny almost immediately collapsed to his knees in relief. 

“Daddy?” Elllie croaked the word, barely able to open her eyes. 

“I’m here, Ellie. I’m here. I’ve got the ecto-dejecto.” 

“I tried to fight him.” Her voice was soft and hoarse and hurt Dick just to hear. 

“You did amazing, sweety. You were absolutely amazing.” 

Danny pulled a syringe out from what looked like his own arm. A syringe filled a green gel that glowed softly. Jason stared at the needle as Danny readied it for Ellie. She tried to shove his hand away, but he moved around her. 

“I know you hate it, I know. It’s awful. But you have to take it. Please Ellie, I’ve got you, you’re safe.” 

Dick flinched back in horror as Ellie’s hand melted into a similar green goo. The glowing goo fell from her body to the rooftop but she didn’t seem to react, only mewling softly at Danny as he pushed the needle into her chest, close to where her heart would be. Danny pushed down on the plunger and Ellie threw her head back and screamed. Dick had to cover his ears while even Jason with his helmet stumbled back before the force of her scream. 

Their horror only increased when her entire body fell apart, glowing chunks splashing onto the roof leaving a pale green pearl in Danny’s hands. The puddles of green flowed up into the pearl until there wasn’t a trace of Ellie left other than the pearl. Danny rocked back and forth as he held the pearl, and whispered quietly to it. 

“Please, Ellie. Please. Come back. I was fast enough, please Ellie, just this once, please let me have been fast enough. Please, Ancients, don’t let me lose anyone else. Please, Ellie. Please.”

Danny’s voice was broken with grief and desperation as he begged the little sphere. Dick stepped forward to comfort the grieving father, his own regret heavy in his heart, but Jason’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. The two of them could only watch as Danny begged and begged, still rocking. Only the slow tightening of Jason’s hand on Dick’s shoulder showed his grief and fear rising as well. The three men stared at the little orb in Danny’s hand, two of them hardly daring to breathe as any last remnant of hope faded. 

Then, just when Dick was certain he had been too late, a flash of light came from the little sphere. He blinked the light from his eyes and when he could see again he saw Danny clutching a much more lively Ellie to his chest, sobbing in naked relief. 

“Oh Daddy! I knew you would come and that stupid jerk would pay.” Ellie cheered, hugging him back just as strong. 

“That’s right baby, I’m always going to come for you. I’ll always protect you.” He stood, lifting his daughter easily and turned to show her the two bats. “And these two heroes were the ones who stopped Freakshow and brought you back to me.” 

Ellie smiled at them and they couldn’t help but notice that her smile was just a little too wide, and showed just a few too many teeth. Then she seemed to recognize them and they saw actual literal stars in her eyes. 

“Oh my gosh! You’re Redhood! You’re Aunt Jazz’s favorite hero!” Jason preened for a moment before Ellie continued. “She says there’s something deeply wrong with your entire family and she wants to study you like a bug. She says all of you need ‘like decades of therapy.’”

Jason and Dick didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended by the kid’s words. And they had both rescued children often enough to know that they were often brilliant mimics and considering the intonation she had used, had probably heard that phrase way too often.

“Now Ellie, be nice. They did rescue after all. Give them a proper thank…” Danny’s voice petered out as he saw the staff that Jason still held in his hands. Ellie happily thanked the two heroes as he glared at the staff, analyzing and examining it, his face twisting with more and more rage. 

The staff itself seemed to have been broken before and then sloppily repaired with glowing green and silver technology. It was at this modified portion of the staff that Danny focused his ire. Ellie seemed to notice her father’s fury as her babbling words to the heroes ceased and she turned in his arms to lightly pat her hands on his face. He blinked and looked at her before letting his face relax. 

“Daddy, are you ok?” 

“Yeah, Daddy’s ok sweetie. This is just something bigger I’m going to have to deal with.” 

“Ok.” She hesitated for a moment. “Just promise to be safe, I won’t be able to protect you until I’m bigger.” 

“I promise, munchkin.” 

Jason quietly cleared his throat. They both hated to disrupt the tender moment, but if this was a larger threat they needed the facts as soon as possible. 

“I know, I know. I promised you details.” Danny said as he adjusted how he was carrying Ellie. “This isn’t exactly a topic for the rooftops. Do you have someplace private we can talk? Preferably somewhere I can put the kiddo down for bed after the hard week she’s had?” 

Dick and Jason glanced at each other. There were a variety of safe houses and interrogation rooms the Family had available in the area, or the Batcave, but none were exactly the best for putting a potential ally at ease where they could also have a child sleep over. Hell, Dick’s apartment was barely safe for him to sleep, the pile of dishes in his sink practically counted as a biohazard. Well… there was one place… but that meant revealing…

“B’s out of town for the week for that JL thing isn’t he?” Jason asked, clearly having read Dick’s mind. “He’s not here to disapprove.” 

“Seems like the perfect place for a conversation.” Dick agreed and turned back to see Danny’s slightly worried glance between the two of them. “How about it Danny? Would you like to ride with the kiddo on one of our motorcycles?” 

“Oh, don’t be silly!” Ellie said with a smile. “Aunt Jazz is the one who likes motorcycles. Daddy and I will fly!” 

.

Danny did in fact fly, invisibly and intangibly, with Ellie still in his arms. He followed along in the air over the two bikes as they weaved dangerously in and out of traffic. The two were obviously brothers in so many ways, but their playful daring of each other to push a little faster, to get a little closer to the cars made it even more obvious. Danny couldn’t help the small smile that crept up his face, but speaking of siblings he had to make a call of his own. Jazz answered on the first ring. 

“Danny? Did you find her?” Jazz asked, she had been driving herself crazy for the past week trying to find where Ellie had been taken to. 

“Yeah, I’ve got her safe and sound-”

“Hi Aunt Jazz!” Ellie interrupted to yell into the earpiece Danny was using. He could practically feel Jazz’s wince at the volume, but they were both used to Ellie’s exuberance. 

“Hi Ellie! I’m so glad to hear you’re safe!” Jazz shouted back, making Danny wince this time, but Ellie nodded even though she wasn’t wearing the earpiece and settled back against Danny’s chest. “Talk to me Danny. What happened?” 

“Freakshow was controlling her. And a bunch of other ghosts, but I was able to scoop up the rest while the heroes had their backs turned. I’ll be dropping them off in the zone as soon as I can.” 

“Heroes? What heroes?” 

“I had a little help from Gotham’s beloved Knights. Or at least two of them. They were the ones to take out Freakshow since I couldn’t risk getting closer to him while he held his staff.” 

“I thought you broke that staff the last time you faced him.” 

“I did. It was fixed.” Danny hesitated for a second before dropping the bomb on her. “It was fixed with Fentontech.” 

He could hear the gasp from Jazz at the same time Ellie shivered in fear. Jazz took a steadying breath and Danny could practically see her going through her breathing exercises to control her own panic. 

“I guess that problem will need to be dealt with sooner rather than later.” 

“Mm. I’m hoping that with the help of the local heroes I won’t have to take care of everything myself, but…”

“Some things are personal.” Jazz finished for him. “I understand Danny.” She took another breath before changing topics, now sounding calm and professional. “Could you stay on the line? Tucker is tracking your location, and I would like to confirm for myself that the two of you are ok.” 

“Of course Jazz. Do you want to talk to Ellie?” Danny was already removing the piece from his ear before Jazz could even confirm. Of course Jazz wanted to talk to Ellie. Jazz loved her niece more than oxygen. He slipped the piece into Ellie’s ear so they could talk. 

“Hi Aunt Jazz! This is Ellie, I’ve missed you so much!” Ellie started talking excitedly greeting Jazz again as if Danny would just hand his earpiece to anyone. 

Danny mentally checked out from their conversation as he stayed flying over the two Bats. His parents had already shared their technology with the GIW making it more dangerous to be a ghost or liminal. Even Jazz had been attacked once by GIW agents, though she had left all the agents with concussions and multiple broken bones once she was done with them. 

If they were sharing their technology with other criminals like Freakshow, it was going to be even more dangerous. How long would it take until some of the big rogues get their hands on anti ghost tech? What could someone like the Joker or Luthor do if even the dead aren’t safe from their machinations? 

.

Jason and Dick lead the two ghosts to a large manor on the outskirts of Gotham. Danny eventually recognizes it as Wayne manor. He would have to tell Sam she won their bet on Batman’s secret identity, not that they would ever tell anyone. He and Ellie were welcomed into the house by Alfred, the manor’s butler. The two of them settled in the dining room where Ellie was plied with dinner and dessert after her stressful time with Freakshow. Danny makes a mental note for his daughter to spend time with Aunt Jazz so she can talk things through free of judgment. 

The two bat boys joined them shortly out of costume and the rest of the family trickled in throughout the day as their patrols ended. Damian, who was probably the stabby Robin, glared at them as if they were a threat to his family. Danny couldn’t help the thought that he puffed up like an angry cat. Cassandra and Stephanie, Black Bat and Spoiler respectively, worked together to pull Ellie from Danny’s lap to keep her entertained away from the serious discussion that was happening at the table. Timothy, or Red Robin (Yumm!) was on the receiving end of several stern looks from Alfred for having a computer at the dining table but he was taking rapid notes on everything Danny said. 

Danny told them as much as he felt comfortable with. About ghosts, and over shadowing, and Infinite Realms. He tried to keep the conversation light and focused just on the simple details until Alfred escorted in Jazz at close to three in the morning. 

“Aunt Jazz!” Ellie ran to her and jumped into her arms, Jazz swinging her up into the air easily. As if Ellie had been waiting to be reunited with her family she almost immediately fell asleep in Jazz’s arms. Alfred escorted the two to the guest room he had prepared hours ago. 

Once Jazz had returned to the dining room it was time for the serious conversation. The GIW. The Anti-Ecto Act. The very real threat of extermination that every ectoplasm contaminated person now faced, which included more than half the bats currently at the table as well. Promises are made to get the League looking at the laws. Eventually the conversation turns to talking about Danny and Ellie. 

“Technically she’s my clone.” Danny confessed. “My fruitloop god-father wanted to make me his perfect son, so he stole my DNA and cloned me. She was unstable for a long time and had to keep coming back for injections. We finally figured out what was going on two years ago.”

Danny rubbed a hand up and down his face as he gathered himself. He always hated that it had taken him so long to understand what she needed. 

“Because he’s terrible at biology, he forced her human half to grow at an accelerated rate to match my age, but he couldn’t do the same with her ghost half. The two sides were at war, and it turns out she really was a baby ghost all along, but didn’t have an adult ghost around to be able to depend on. She changed her form to match her actual age, and I’ve been her ghost parent, so I’ve helped steady her core. Until Freakshow came along and stole her away while she still needed me.” 

He glared at the table top as the temperature around him plummeted. Freakshow could have killed his little girl. It would have been all too easy and if Dick and Jason hadn’t helped take away his staff, Danny might have been too late. If Freakshow’s actions had led to Ellie’s death there would have been no safe haven for him in this life or the next. Jazz grabbing his hand brought him back before he sent the dining room into the next ice age. 

The arrival of the daylight hero, Signal, aka Duke, reminded the lot they should have been asleep hours ago. Jazz and Danny retired to the same guest room Ellie was currently snoring away in. They settled down on either side of the bed from her, cuddling Danny’s daughter in the middle. 

“What are we going to do about the Fentons?” Jazz whispered from across Ellie’s still form. 

“If they’re helping villains, they’ve crossed a line. I’ll have to deal with them myself.” Danny hesitated for a bit. “I’ll have to wait until Ellie’s stable again, but then would you mind if she stayed with you? You’re family too, even if you don’t have a ghost form, so she should be stable with you too.” 

“Of course I will, Danny. You don’t even have to ask.” Jazz said, she hesitated as well. “Are you going to bring them in to serve jail time?” 

They had been his parents once. His mom and dad. Jazz still caught herself sometimes referring to them as their parents. But they had crossed too many lines. With Jazz’s childhood, after Danny’s accident, now with Ellie’s health. He took a shaky breath and shook his head. 

“Their crimes are against the dead. And the dead are going to come for their due.”

Jazz nodded, small tears shining in her eyes, before she closed them and let the tears fall. The trio fell asleep, a small, strange family, reunited again after so long. Tomorrow would be a new challenge, but eventually they would know peace. 

[jonathankai]

I was going for a text post, but ended up with a drabble about sharing bed on cold nights, getting used to non-sexual intimacy and Xue Yang loosing at his own games and being surprisingly content with it. Hope you enjoy!

During their first winter on one particularly cold night Xiao Xingchen offers his outer robe to A-Qing to use as a blanket. When she asks what about him, Xue Yang interferes, saying that they shall sleep together to keep each other warm. He just wants to tease, but Xiao Xingchen suddenly agrees. More than that, he seems to be... enthusiastic about it? 

Later that evening, Xiao Xingchen reveals that since nights can be pretty harsh where he came from, it was common for children to share bed and sleep together. Xue Yang plays it cool despite being mildly irritated that instead of embarrassed (as was originally planned), Xiao Xingchen looks happy. However, after some time, this happiness dulls into nostalgia, sadness even, and Xiao XIngchen shyly asks Xue Yang if he can hug him.As they fall asleep, Xiao Xingchen shares stories from their sleepovers back at home in a hushed tone. And Xue Yang...

Xue Yang is not sure why he agrees to all of this – to this hug, to these stories. The whole thing clearly doesn’t go in his favor. Unlike certain someone, he’s never slept next to another person and he lets Xiao Xingchen share his stupid stories, so he doesn’t have to do the talking and can focus on his feelings instead. It does feel very nice and warm. He was worried that he will be repulsed by foreign presence, but Xiao Xingchen is not the problem. The problem is: since it’s an unfamiliar situation and since people only got this close to him when they tried to kill him, part of his brain is writhing, looking for a catch, waiting for an attack. Reasonably, Xue Yang understands that since it’s daozhang Xiao Xingchen, the worst thing that could happen is that he would drool in his sleep, but that doesn’t stop the alarm ringing in his head. Xue Yang falls asleep to warmth, to gentle hands around him, to soft whisper, but also to uneasy feeling in his gut.

That’s why, when he wakes up, the first thing his brain processes is that there’s someone close enough to kill him. Xue Yang’s hand flies to Jiangzai, but it’s not on its’ place next to him, so instead Xue Yang kicks as hard as he can and rolls back.

Xiao Xingchen wakes up to being kicked in the stomach, which sends him in a coughing fit. A-Qing wakes up then and immediately starts shouting at Xue Yang. Out of three, it’s daozhang who first accesses the situation. Everybody has a story, for many people their stories are tragic, and Xiao Xingchen has already figured that his new friend is one of them. So he assures A-Qing that everything is alright, and then tries to calm down the man.

Xue Yang has hard time remembering where he is, why fucking Xiao Xingchen is there, and why he tells him that no one will hurt him. It’s hard to get a hold of himself and remember the persona he’s supposed to play, but eventually he manages.

The winter is being pretty harsh that year, and soon enough Xiao Xingchen offers his outer robe to A-Qing again. He asks Xue Yang if maybe they could sleep together. and Xue Yang agrees on a whim. The thing is, that time he woke up disorientated and scared, and it took a while before he could bear his surroundings. And if he was to live with Xiao Xingchen, it just wouldn’t do. He has to train himself better.

It’s Xiao Xingchen’s idea that they should sleep next to each other, but not too close, so dear friend won’t get... triggered in the morning. So they do, and this time they talk about their day, what else can be done to make coffin house hold against the weather, whether they have enough logs stacked for winter or not and stuff like this. Xue Yang falls asleep mid-sentence, his last coherent thought being that it was a stupid idea, because it doesn’t get much warmer this way.

Xue Yang has always been adaptive and pretty soon he learns to wake up without as much as a shiver. Besides, they’ve been slowly scooting closer to each other in their sleep anyway, seeking the source of warmth.  He rarely gets to wake up before Xiao Xingchen (seems that he’s pretty adaptive too and one kick in the stomach was enough for him), but when he does, he likes to throw his arm and leg around daozhang and pretend he’s sleeping, so when the other man wakes up, he always tries to disentangle himself as discreetly as possible. Xue Yang found out he can make it harder if he tightens his hold and makes a protesting sound “in his sleep”. The first time he does it, he kind of hopes that Xiao Xingchen would admit defeat and stay close for as long as he would entertain it. But even if Xiao Xingchen halts and doubles his efforts at being accurate, he always gets up and leaves Xue Yang.

One morning Xue Yang wakes up with Xiao Xingchen’s arms around him. He hasn’t hugged him since that first time, but they’ve been sleeping close for a while now, so Xue Yang doesn’t freak out. In fact, it feels nice, adds to the warmth, so he just spends some time in thoughtless bliss. But then he wants to get up. He tries to be sneaky about it, but the arm around him tightens. Xue Yang stills, waits a little bit and tries again, but the embrace tightens further. Each try only makes Xiao Xingchen’s grip grow stronger. Who knows how long it continues, until Xue Yang hears the voice of a clearly very awake person right next to his year:

“I bet you’re very proud of yourself”.

Xue Yang smirks.

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“I knew you were awake each time. I just thought I’ll indulge you for a bit”.

“And what’s happening now? Payback time?”

“Well, I thought maybe this time you’ll indulge me”, Xiao Xingchen says, his voice soft with amusement, fingers lightly tapping some rhythm on the other man’s back.

Xue Yang closes his eyes. He lost. He got caught. By all accounts, he should be mad, but somehow, he isn’t. Somehow, he feels good.

Xiao Xingchen must have interpreted his silence in his own manner, because his hold becomes slack and he moves away so Xue Yang could see his face.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t bother you. I should have thought about it sooner”.

“No, it’s okay. I got used to you by now, so you can hug me whenever you want. I won’t kick you again... I think”.

Xiao Xingchen’s eyebrows go up.

“You think?”

Xue Yang grins.

“Yeah. Scared?”

He finds it incredibly funny when the other man actually thinks about it until he smiles resolutely.

“Worth the risk”, he says.

As the worst of the winter cold passes, Xiao Xingchen ends up offering his outer robe to A-Qing three nights in a row, and she declines his generous offer each time. On the third night Xiao Xingchen looks so defeated that Xue Yang can’t hold it anymore: he breaks into laughter and says that if Xiao Xingchen wanted to sleep together, he should have just said so. This makes A-Qing’s hackles rise. She makes a snarky remark how there is literally no reason for them to be sleeping together since it’s not so cold anymore. Somehow, this makes daozhang look even more sorrowful, and Xue Yang decides that just this once, he will save him.

“But sharing bed reminds him of home! He does so much for an ungrateful brat like you, and now he can’t have even one good thing!”

“My friend, A-Qing is only pointing the obvious: we started this, so we could all stay warm”.

“Yes, but we don’t have to stick to this reason. Let’s create another one and move on”.

This makes Xiao Xingchen freeze for a moment just like he used to when Xue Yang played his tricks in the morning.

“Alright”, he says eventually, and all the sorrow he had before leaves him at once.

Xue Yang looks at him a little dumbfounded, suddenly realizing that their routine just went through permanent changes.

They are all quiet for a while, before A-Qing asks in a far more pleasing tone:

“Daozhang, if you are sleeping with him, can I have your outer robe?”

Winter slowly gives way to the spring.

[lyxreallylovetheimage3]

Statments

The theme of my three images is that “knowledge is power”. I was inspired by my life now. The first picture is of a character studying in the dark against a street lamp, just like when I first started university and didn’t know anything. As a foreigner, I was unfamiliar with everything and needed to spend more time learning than others. The second picture shows the character sitting on a book and studying. It represents I am more familiar with how to study. And this one also has a much brighter environment than the previous one, showing that I am looking forward to the future. The last picture is the brightest. The character is standing on a book with her finger pointing in the direction of the sky and surrounded by planes. This represents my hopes for my future. I hope that I will have a bright future after I have studied hard and graduated.

Artistic creation is inseparable from learning. For the art world, the logic and object of art are often abstract. On the one hand, the main body of the artworks’ meanings are often hidden behind the surface. I thus believe that I must dig the fact behind the surface. This project is to be introduced in the exhibition and clearly describe my concept in accordance with knowledge power. In the course of reading the relevant text, I found that Oliveira’s sentence was very close to what I wanted to say: If it is true that photographic practice does not depend on the definition of theoretical concepts to guide it, it is equally true that concepts are extremely attractive to institutions and other agents, whose role is to disseminate photography and operate in a competitive environment (Oliveira, 2016).

I have also read about Socrates, who once protested against any technology that helped people express themselves in writing, claiming that “the written word is the enemy of memory”; centuries later, the German cryptographer Johannes Trithemius exclaimed that the printing press would adversely affect the honesty of the monks responsible for transcribing religious texts. And yet, in today’s electronic culture, all information and thinking is constantly being rewritten and edited as it travels, and when it falls in pieces on each individual node, it looks very different from the beginning.

I want to notice in this project that knowledge becomes real power only when it is organised into a clear plan of action that leads to a clear goal. While an educated person is not necessarily one with a wealth of general or specialised knowledge; An educated one, on the other hand, is certainly one whose ideology has developed considerably.

In reality, press releases and artists’ discourse are common in the art world. The simple linkage of elements has been gradually replaced by the art media, which is being asked to take on more responsibilities. But what is the “objective and neutral” approach to describing a work, an exhibition, or an artist at this time, beyond the obvious “sycophancy”? Rather than some kind of “fake news” or “rumour”? I think we need to think about this more.

The popularity of “retro” effects used in smartphone photography represents an effort to stabilise images that are actually invisible and unstable (Chopra-Gant, 2016). From the perspective of the nature of images, if anything, the slide projector and photographs represent an important shift in the teaching and study of art history from a “language-based” to a “visual-based” approach, and have a demystifying effect: the slides not only provide the evidence for the thesis, but mainly determine the structure of interpretation, becoming a dominant factor in the production of knowledge. And that is something meaningful, which is the concept that I really want to convey through my project work.

References

Chopra-Gant, M. (2016). Pictures or it Didn’t happen: Photo-nostalgia, iPhoneography and the representation of everyday life. Photography and Culture, 9(2), 121-133.

Oliveira, A. A. D. (2016). Post-photography, or are we past photography. Post-screen: intermittence interference, 68-75.

[bleachification]

— should have been us // megumi drabble

in any other circumstance, on any other day, you would care about the very expensive evening gown you just wrecked by running six blocks in nothing but it and a pair of satin slippers. you would also care about the wedding you effectively ruined after not-so-gracefully running out in the middle of your great-aunt’s vows — it was her fourth marriage, you doubt it would last past christmas.

but as you walk up the steps of a familiar building, you can’t help but ignore all the tiny, irrelevant things you probably should concern yourself with, because the only thing, the only one you care about at this moment, stood somewhere on the other side of the door.

steeling your jittery nerves, you knock, and you wait.

it takes less than ten seconds for the door to swing open and for you to lose your ability to breathe as he comes into view.

“hey.” your voice is shaky, and you aren’t sure if it’s from the temperature drop or the anxiety bubbling up in your throat.

megumi doesn’t answer. instead, he stares at you as if he’s seen a ghost.

in retrospect, he isn’t too far off. the sight of your face reminds him of the dead relationship between him and you, or so he thought it was dead, until you showed up at his front door at eleven at night, dressed in a pile of silk that looks like it got run over by a steamroller.

he doesn’t answer you, so you rush out a sentence you hope is coherent, the sight of your ex-boyfriend is messing up your basic senses, and you barely register your following words.

“i know i look like i just came from a black-tie event set in hell, but it is really cold out, and im pretty sure my silk dress is falling to pieces, so can i please come in?”

and you aren’t lying, it is freezing outside, but it’s nothing compared to the chillingly blank expression on megumi’s face.

nevertheless, he opens the door wider, allowing enough room for you to shuffle past him into the dimly lit and much warmer living room.

megumi has to fight the urge to inhale in that split second you walk by him; all his senses fill with you. it brings forth a wave of nostalgia, longing, and heartache, feelings that he would rather keep locked up and sealed away in a tiny corner of his soul for the rest of his life than ever experience again.

he closes the door and locks it shut behind you, gesturing to the velvety couch to your left. “sit. i’ll be back in a minute.

you do as he says, and you sink into the plush seat as you wait for him.

he comes back a moment later, a steaming mug in one hand and an oversized hoodie in the other.

“here.” he sets down the tea and offers you the hoodie, and as you thank him, megumi notices how similar this situation is to when he first offered you one of his shirts four years ago as a junior in high school when he had started dating you. it was the same year he had voluntarily gone to gojo for relationship advice — not because he wanted it — but because gojo was the only option, and megumi was desperate not to screw up the best thing that had happened to him: you.

megumi watches as your gaze roams his face searching for something, anything.

he pretends not to notice, and his face shutters, wiping any semblance of emotion from it. the last thing he wants is for you to read him, to see him.

“why are you here?” he sighs.

it’s a simple question but unbearably difficult for you to answer. there isn’t a precise reason for why you decided to show up a week after you dumped him — or maybe there is; you’re just too afraid of his reply to speak.

you try anyway.

“i was sitting there at the wedding, my great-aunts, and all i could think of during the ceremony was how that should have been us, you know? it was supposed to be us, standing there side by side as we promised our vows to each other. i mean, wasn’t that our plan?”

it was. in fact, the first thing that came to mind when he met you was something along the lines of, “i’m going to marry you one day,” a sentiment he shared with you during your first anniversary together.

megumi draws in a sharp breath, and you flinch, expecting a dismissal. you look up in surprise when he doesn’t automatically tell you to leave.

“you were the one who ended it. not me,” he stresses.

for the last seven days, he’s tirelessly gone over the breakup hundreds of times, trying to figure out why. why did you break it off? what went wrong? why did you leave? those questions tormented him to the point where he could barely sleep as you haunted his dreams and invaded his every waking thought, so now, all he could hope for was an answer.

“i know. i’m sorry.” you sniff and shift in your seat, the movement causing the couch to dip even further under your weight.

“why now?”

you swallow. “do you remember my niece?”

he looks off to the side for a second as he recalls an image of a bubbly little eight year old girl he met last year. “yeah. she was at thanksgiving, i think she liked me.”

“i think she loved you and tried to take you away from me,” you snorted.

the irony makes megumi smile bitterly. the force of the entire world couldn’t take him from you if it tried, yet here he was, sitting across from you as a stranger.

“what about her?” he asks.

“she came up to me and asked where you were, asked me why you weren’t there with me,” you trail off; unwanted emotions sit heavy in your chest like an anchor and stops you from continuing.

“what did you say to her?” megumi’s voice is barely above a whisper. any louder, and you’d surely hear his voice crack.

“nothing,” you chuckle humourlessly, “i sat there staring at her like an idiot because i couldn’t give her a single reason as to why you weren’t there with me, not a valid one at least. i didn’t even have the heart to tell her we broke up.”

all of a sudden, megumi’s kneeling in front of you, and he’s looking at you in a way that sucks all the air out of your lungs. it’s a look full of hope.

“i need you to tell me why,” he’s all but begging at this point.

in that moment, megumi is desperate for an answer; he needs it more than he needs to breathe.

“i didn’t want to-,“ your voice breaks, “be a burden to you. we both got busy, and i know how important your career is to you. i wasn’t going to make you choose between two things you loved, i won’t ever do that to you.”

megumi’s hands fall onto your own, gently enveloping them. the simple touch does more to warm you than the tea and crackling fireplace combined, and as he gives your hands a small squeeze, he thinks to himself that he would have chosen you.

the tears you’ve tried so hard to hold back come streaming down your face in rivers as you choke out your next words. “i want to fix us. we can do that, can’t we?”

say yes. god, please say yes.

you feel a familiar calloused hand on your face. and megumi tenderly wipes away the tears falling down your cheek. it kills him to see you in pain, and he’ll do anything to take it away.

he opens his mouth as if to answer, and your breath hitches, but before a word leaves his mouth, he suddenly straightens as if remembering something important.

“stay here,” he says, and you do. you wait for him a second time, on that worn-out couch where you first exchanged “i love yous” three years prior.

you take another sip of tea, it’s cold now, but you don’t mind; anything megumi makes for you tastes good.

“it should have been us, right?”

you turn to him, a ready response on the tip of your tongue, but the object in his hand steals your full attention and stops you from speaking. once you realize what it is, your mouth drops open and tears once again well up in your eyes; at this point, you’re subject to dehydration.

“is that…” you’re in such a state of shock, you’re barely coherent.

he makes his way back to your side, the item still sitting against his palm.

“i bought it the day you told me you loved me,” he smiles, his features soft.

“that was,” you hiccup, “almost three years ago.”

he reaches for you again; this time, he cups your face and tilts your chin down to meet his gaze. it’s hard to make out his eyes through watery lenses.

“my love, if you keep crying, then i’m going to start crying, and then we’ll never be able to get through this.”

that drew a laugh from you, a short one in between your sobs, but a laugh nonetheless.

a warm press of megumi’s lips to the corners of your eyelids undoes what little success he had in halting your tears earlier. at this point, it’s acceptable to classify what you’re going through as a complete breakdown.

“i don’t deserve you,” you mumble.

megumi’s next to you now, and your head gently falls against his chest as he pulls you into the comfort of his arms. he’s warm, and it lulls you into a state of peace.

“no, you don’t, but i don’t deserve you either, so i guess it cancels out,” he murmurs.

you snort and snuggle closer to him. “that doesn’t make any sense.”

“no, not at all, but at least it made you stop crying.” another second of your visible show of heartache and megumi’s sure his already fragile heart would shatter into a thousand pieces.

megumi maneuvers his body, so that his arm is free to hand you the box he has been holding onto, and the moment you open it and the glittering ring comes into view, you’re shaking so hard megumi’s concerned for your well-being.

“marry me?”

now he’s the one praying for a yes.

you stare at him for a moment longer before he receives his answer in the form of a searing kiss.

“yes.”

[dreamsclock]

big thoughts about how bad dream's conditions have been and how much worse they might get. big thoughts about dream being starved for a literal fucking month. big thoughts about syndicate dream and dealing with food.

have a snippet from the syndicate au i’m currently writing !! cut for length + also for mentions of food/behaviour regarding food that could be triggering.

warnings: mentions of starvation, unhealthy attitude regarding food/eating, ed behaviours/thoughts, food, unhealthy eating habits, mentions of nausea, abuse implications, death mentions

“I’m not hungry,” Dream mutters, laying his head on the table, “I don’t want food.”

Behind him, Phil sighs. “You have to try and eat, mate. You can’t go hungry again.”

Dream cringes internally at the thought. I can, he thinks sullenly, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes until his world crumbles into static and grain, I absolutely can.

“Just soup,” Phil encourages, “soup and... I don’t know, fucking bread. That’s all you have to eat, just a couple of spoonfuls.”

The thing is that even the thought of a spoonful is enough to make Dream’s chest tighten and his stomach cramp painfully. He doesn’t look at Phil, doesn’t want to see the annoyance that surely is going to be on his face when he shakes his head. “I don’t need food right now. I ate a few... last w...”

He trails off. Time hadn’t been a friend of his recently, and so he realises to his dismay that he... doesn’t exactly know how long it’s been since he’s eaten. He’d escaped from the prison when the sun had been high in the sky, had collapsed when the sun had disappeared from the burning red and golden sky, but he has no idea how long it had been since then. Even if he could work that out, time in the prison had been nonexistent - how long had it been since Sam had given him food? He’d last eaten when Tommy had left: a potato to ease the worst of his hunger, but how long ago had that been?

Phil waits one beat, two, three, for Dream to finish his sentence. When he doesn’t, he sighs, sounding resigned enough that Dream actually looks at him, terror shooting an arrow through the fog in his muscles and mind for a second, a terrifying message of he’s angry he’s going to hurt me he’s angry he’s going to hurt me angry angry angry-

“Okay,” the man says in defeat, “I mean, I can’t force you to eat. Will you at least come to the kitchen with me? Maybe you’ll feel more like it when you get there.”

Dream swallows, forcing the alarm from his gaze and trying to relax his muscles. Phil’s presence is quiet, calm - as much as he feels constantly overwhelmed by having someone around, he doesn’t want to sit alone.

And maybe, just maybe, the thought of smelling food other than raw potato is appealing.

He gets to his feet, almost falls, steadies himself against the wall while his mind settles again. Phil waits patiently.

“Okay. I guess.” It’s barely agreement, but Phil smiles anyway as he turns away, leading him to the kitchen. Dream follows, marvelling at the feeling of cool wood under his burned feet and the crisp air curling over his skin like he’s never known anything other than the boiling prison heat.

Maybe he hasn’t. This version of him anyway. He’s died a hundred times in prison, regenerated his body each and every time - this version of his body doesn’t remember winter air, doesn’t remember snow or wood or kind patience like Phil is displaying. It knows cruelty and pain and fire hot enough to parch him dry constantly.

It certainly doesn’t know the unfamiliar smells of food in the kitchen, and it doesn’t understand the nostalgia and nausea it awakens inside his mind.

[waybrights]

Hey, hi! I love your prompts. The way you write is marvelous. This is a little gift for you, some Sashanne angst and hurt/comfort. Enjoy!

-------

Anne found her sitting on a log, watching the stars. After returning to Amphibia, she never imagined seeing Sasha again but in a new light. Not as an enemy anymore but an ally, protecting Wartwood in her place, gaining more support to defeat Andrias. It felt surreal.

Thinking about Sasha filled her heart with mixed feelings. Love, hate, care, anger, longing, disappointment, nostalgia, annoyance. It was like cooking orange chicken with explosives as weird as it sounded. And knowing they were kind of avoiding each other, Sasha more than Anne, was becoming exhausting. There was fear of what she would do; many times Anne had thought Sasha would do the right thing just to be let down again, though, for Sasha to be all distant it made Anne wonder if she had given up after she had yelled at her that she was done with the blonde's shit.

Another issue needed to be let out of the surface too. One that had tormented her dreams some nights, not as much as Marcy being stabbed but it was still nasty and soul-breaking.

Her feet moved on her own, the crunching on leaves and twigs and dead grass alerted Sasha. She stood up quickly, unsheathing her sword just to relax marginally at the sight of Anne.

"H-Hey"

"Hey" God, if that was the only thing they were going to say to each other, this conversation would never start.

"There's something I want to talk about with you."

"Oh... Well, I was going to talk to you tomorrow but now that you're here..." Sasha scratched the back of her head and swallowed. She inhaled and exhaled deeply before opening her mouth.

"I'm sorry." Both said and looked at each other, flabbergasted.

"Were you going to say--?" Sasha started until Anne interrupted her.

"Oh, you were going to--" Yeah, this was awkward.

"Were you planning to apologize to me?" Sasha looked at her as if Anne wasn't Anne anymore but a clone. Alright, time to explain.

"I missed you, Sasha. I missed you and I hated you." The blonde flinched at the last part but didn't avert her eyes or try to. "I was so mad at you and I even wondered if you cared about me at all, or if you just cared about a version of me that would always do whatever you wanted. No agency, no opinion, nothing, just doing your way."

"It was wrong though. Everything I did was wrong and it took the whole disaster in the castle for me to understand that's not how people should act, how friends should act. But I know that you're done with me and anything related to me, so...I have to accept it. And whether you forgive me or not, I'll respect your choice and leave you alone. I just want you to know that I'm truly sorry for everything I've done to you. Before and during Amphibia. You were right, I am a horrible person. I'm trying to be better and I want to be someone you deserve but I've screwed up too many times for you to keep putting up with me. Anything you decide, Anne, forgiving me or hating me or even just pretending I've never existed... I-I never meant to..." Sasha sniffed, cursing at herself for not keeping the vulnerability at bay, feeling tears gathering fastly on the corner of her eyes "You and Marcy are the most important people to me. I'm so sorry I made you feel like I've never cared...w-when I-I love you so much..."

The dam was in pieces. Tears fell to the ground while she waited for Anne's judgment. A punch, a scream, a long lecture, an insult, or just leaving, she forced herself to not turn around and run away. That never worked in long term.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her chest. Since when Anne had approached her?

The girl glanced with a mix of pain and fury at her hand, placed where Sasha's heart.

"I killed you." Anne's voice was too low but Sasha could hear the words, her blood freezing at that sentence.

"I killed you. In my dreams." She closed her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears from falling, her voice from breaking. "We were there...on the Newtopia Gates. We were fighting and I was so, so mad at you. B-But... But I wanted it to stop. Something was off with me. As if I was being possessed by a demon. And you were having trouble defending yourself... I-- no, that person, whatever it was using my body, it disarmed you and then... My own sword went through y-your heart... I-I couldn't... I couldn't stop it...! You were bleeding, you were dying and I was unable to save you..." Anne leaned her head on Sasha's head sobbing. The blonde debated mentally what to do. Comfort her? But what if that was translated as intrusive? Giving some encouraging words? She wasn't good at feelings. Without more choices, she slowly raised her arms and wrapped them around Anne carefully and kindly.

The other girl glared at Sasha with an intensity that was scary even for the fearless warrior, then a fist hit her chest. It stung a bit but not much as Anne's pained and furious face.

"I killed you! My own best friend! Even when you were the most massive jerk in the history of most massive jerks! You manipulative," a second hit "idiotic," a third one "arrogant," a fourth one "selfish" a fifth one "and insufferable asshole!!" Six hits. Sasha took them all. She was crying, silently to let Anne express all the wounds and stress she unconsciously put her through. The words were like knives slicing her heart but true. Dark reminders of how toxic she had been with the people she loves the most.

"I killed you! Even when I was done with you, I would've never forgiven myself! I love you, I missed you, I hated you and now I don't know anymore!"

"Anne..." Sasha searched for the right words, but what kind of words could help in a situation like this? Her only option was the most difficult path: emotional honesty. "Anne," she carefully lifted her chin to be eye to eye "I would never hate you. Even if you had...killed me, I never would. I hurt you so much. I took you for granted. I betrayed you and attacked your frog family. You were mad for good reasons. That's not your fault, it was mine. I-I know this is up to you. Deciding what to do or what to feel, but please Anne, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve this kind of burden. Not with everything else you're dealing with."

Anne sniffed and rubbed her eyes angrily. Sasha stepped back a bit, thinking the Thai girl needed space to calm down but her friend, (ex?) friend, grabbed her by the arms, her expression between angered and desperate.

"I'm still so mad at you, S-Sasha. I don't know if I can forgive you"

Sasha deflated but nodded. Respect her choices, no matter what, she told herself like a mantra.

"B-But I missed you, s-so much. And I'm so glad you're ok. I thought... I thought you were gone, j-just like M-Marcy." Both teenagers grimaced by remembering what Andrias did. "I thought Andrias had done the same to you. I don't know if I can accept you in my life again after all the shit you have done. It's just hurt so much."

"You don't have to. I-I won't force you to do whatever I want ever again. Even if you-you don't believe me, I mean it."

"Fuck... This is so messed up." Anne laughed bitterly.

"Y-Yeah, it is."

"I lost Marcy. We both did... I... I don't want to lose you too."

"You won't. Not by Andrias' hand or my stupidity."

"How can I trust you?" Anne spat.

"You don't have to. But I'll try my very best. It's the least I can do to-to show you that I regret how horrible I was and that I won't let you down."

Anne didn't say anything else. The hug Sasha received took her by surprise. It was both aggressive and affectionate. She wrapped her arms around her again, both crying, sobs shaking their bodies.

Things weren't ok between them. There were still too many wounds and mixed feelings to face and mend if there was a chance to start over again.

However, as hard as it ended up to be, this little conversation was a start to rebuild the bridge of their friendship. It would be a slow and tough process, but for Anne and Marcy, Sasha would do it.

[souryogurt64]

do you have a ranking of all of FOB's albums?

sorry this got buried under taylor swift discourse but here is my half assed chronological album commentary because every fall out boy song and album is good

EOWYG: obviously this album is not good and obviously rushed, which is why they did not want it released. however, i think it has "good bones." i live right by the (closed) cafe where the album cover was shot and walk by it pretty much every time i leave the house and i get chills every time knowing that was where so much started. a lot of lines are very bad and do not fit the beat and obviously are slapped together but there are certain lines that i feel really capture the essence of fall out boy and also make my chest hurt. this album really captures this sort of rough midwestern wannabe wes anderson 80s romance protagonist indie coming of age energy in such a potent, ugly, and raw way. lines like "when the moonlight hits your bright eyes i go blind" and "do you mind if i stand next to you and watch you smile, ive seen your boyfriend and i dont think he treats you right, but thats none of my business is it" are a little ham fisted but theres just something about it. "the next time the phone wrings my neck." "switchblades and infidelity." you can also tell how much potential patricks voice has and sense this building energy hiding under the bad production and slightly off kilter performance that demonstrates how much potential they had.

i feel similarly about the arma angelus album, where its largely terrible but you can sense this sort of energy. and i feel like eowyg was such a good demonstration of petes businessman recognition that tons of lovesick teenage girls were showing up at hardcore shows and stalking his livejournal with intense fantacism, and he realized if he bottled and marketed this machismo ridden boys club to girls in a way that appealed to them as a "boy band" it was going to be his big break. its also so authentic, with "five tired boys" as a gutwrenching nostalgia for a life youve never had love song to throwing your life away for the sake of the scene whether theres payoff or not, especially the bridge. i think i can trace the emotion i felt hearing that song off a zip file i torrented to my mp3 player in middle school (along with seeing later tttyg music videos) to fighting with my parents constantly 10 years later because i want to be a waitress and wear beat up shoes so i can afford to do unpaid tours

i didnt expect to write this much about this bastard child of an album that is largely considered to suck and few people know exists, but i also really love how pete looks on the album cover. i feel like it'd be rude to say that it captures their personalities since andy is missing, but i like that joe is mid-sentence and mid-hand-gesture, i like that patrick is sitting basically on top of pete and so hunched down and barely visible behind his glasses listening to whatever the waitress has to say. and pete. pete is wearing this cunty white collared shirt and tie that isn't tightened all the way like hes trying to pull chicks when thats undoubtedly tucked into bootcut jeans, staring at the waitress with some stupid lemme smash expression that shows off his jawline like the egotistical, tabloid heartthrob hed later become. go to hell

TTTYG: i think TTTYG is weak in a lot of places. i think a lot of the songs sound incredibly similar to each other so its hard to pick out any one good song thats stronger than any of their later sings, except for "grand theft autumn" which is the "national anthem" for a reason. that being said, the album taken as a whole has a very powerful and distinct feel and i enjoy the screaming a lot and the unbelievably angsty and deliberately double-entendre homoerotic lyrics like "he just made my list of things to do" and "he is well hung and i am hanging--"

a lot of people either love or hate tttyg and im not sure why, i dont feel like its exceptionally terrible or particularly strong. i really like it though, i would probably rank individual songs lower than a lot of other fob songs but i like the overall feel of the album all together

FUTCT: also an incredible album. i really like how bitter and kind of dark and sardonic this one feels. the last one was obviously rageful and there was a lot of screaming and stuff but it all felt a lot more childish and superficial— and there’s a time in your life for those emotions but the emotions on this record just felt a little more complex.

also all the songs sound much different which wasnt really the case with tttyg. i also really like the experimentation with spoken word and the deliberate homoeroticism, particularly in get busy living. snitches and talkers was taken off this album and is a bonus track, but i love it a lot. i also love petes experimenting with whispered hidden messages on various versions of the album, a few of which have not been decoded to this day, which im sure hes very pleased about. i also think the album kind of gets progressively darker generally except for maybe 16 candles, but the video for 16 candles was pretty dark so idk. i also really love a lot of the guitar on the album, it just stands out to me for some reason. the lyrics on this album grew up so much compared to take this to your grave or tttyg and you can really see pete starting to play to his strengths as a writer and how his and patrick’s relationship started to get into a system that brought out the strengths of the band at the time,

Ioh: this is probably widely considered fobs best album and was at the height of their career, and i really like it. if i had to pick one favorite fall out boy song i feel like i would pick hum hallelujah. i really like how pete explores religion and christianity/catholicism in fall out boy and i feel like this record is where you see the most of that, except maybe mania, although its on srar and futct as well.

my favorite tracks are probably carpal tunnel and ive got all this ringing, and hum hallelujah and im like a lawyer, and youre crashing. too many favorite tracks. i feel the way this album explores general human conflict through being famous and through religion is really cool and feels very real. i also like a lot of the more unconventional stuff they did like the choir in crashing or the sort of toy noises in afterlife or the windup sounds in mmrs, those are some of my favorite parts of the album. im sorry im not writing more i just feel like everyone knows this is a really good album and it did really well and its just so big and biblical culty feeling i dont need to write a novel

fad: this was my favorite album in high school, so i kind of listened to it too much and am still recovering from that (im not afraid to flex that i was in the top .001% of fob listeners this year so i am serious about listening to them too much lmfao). folie is widely considered now at least to be ahead of its time.

a lot of the album feels really grand and i really like all the instruments they used, it felt like an intensification of what they were doing with infinity on high.

some of my favorite tracks are west coast smoker, headfirst slide, was, and 27. headfirst slide is my favorite song of this album right now, its so good. i also appreciate the return to slam poetry on this album complete with the slam poetry percussion. committing to the bit. i feel like everyone on tumblr loves this album anyway

srar: i was 13-14 when this album came out so this was my introduction to fall out boy and holds a really special place in my heart because of that. i feel like its got a sort of anger that wasnt on any of the albums since tttyg and i really just loved that as a middle schooler and wanting to be a part of something angry and put on my war paint or whatever, especially when mcr were on the tail end of their killjoys shit around the same time. the youngblood chronicles were also amazing. i wont ever watch the youngblood chronicles again because i dont want to lose my memory of watching it in someones basement at age 14 not knowing literally anything about fall out boy and thinking it was totally amazing.

i also really love the album art, i usually dislike photo album art but this one is very good.

my favorite tracks are where did the party go and just one yesterday. my least favorite track is probably mighty fall EXCEPT for big seans verse, thats one of my favorite parts of the album. i dont know if big sean wrote his own verse or not but i feel like “i know you said not to call unless im dying but im driving and i cant stop staring at my eyelids” is such a pete wentz line. miss missing you is also excellent.

young volcanoes also has a soft spot in my heart, i didnt really listen to anything except justin bieber and one direction and taylor swift at that age and i was raised on a lot of kidz bop and vacation bible school type garbage so this music was a little hard for my tastes except for that song which i couldn’t stop listening to even though it arguably had the most traumatizing music video.

a lot of people older than me fucking hate this album, probably for the same reasons i initially hated mania, but i really like it and i really dont think it sounds that different than the rest of fall out boy and think its really good.

ABAP: i listen to AB/AP the least, and i think its my technical "least favorite," but not because its a "bad" album, because i was in high school and very into fob when it came out so some of the songs feel a bit overplayed to me, like uma thurman and centuries. its also my least favorite album cover by a long shot and album art is very important to me. immortals is also probably my least favorite fob song of all time. it also was for a movie so it feels slightly out of place. pete has talked about how rushed AB/AP was and i think its a solid album, especially for the timeframe, but feels a bit rushed-- centuries wasnt their song, their 3 major singles were overplayed and associated with high school for me, and songs like novocaine feel like SRAR songs because they were SRAR songs. however, songs like irresistible and kids arent alright are absolute knockouts-- i feel like irresistible is such a fall out boy and such a pete wentz song despite having the more modern production and musical style, and kids arent alright is heartwrenching. irresistible is one of my most played songs of this year.

mania: full disclosure, when young and menace came out, i was a senior in high school and i snuck out of class to listen to it and i literally cried in the bathroom because i hated it so much. It was on the radio too and whenever it came on my friends and family would comment on how terrible and unlistenable and annoying it was and it made me so embarrassed to be a fall out boy fan and not give the song another chance because I was more focused on fitting in than actually forming my own opinion and also refusing to give something another chance based off the wrong expectations. I felt like it was a bad song but it’s not a bad song, it just is a non traditional song that’s more of an art piece than a catchy single. I didn’t really give mania a chance because it was different and not what I wanted— and I liked ABAP and SRAR, I wasn’t a whiner about their new music up until that point.

However, now mania is one of my favorite albums and I literally ration how much I listen to it because i like it so much. It’s shorter than i’d like, but rock albums are much, much shorter now. I think it’s a really good exploration of being in a state where you’re not sure if you’re fully in touch with reality or if you’re really experiencing things that are rare, like fame and greatness and true love and religion. i used really like to listen to this album on substances, especially y&m and bishops knife trick, and its amazing. the only other fob songs that i personally think are super fun on substances are headfirst slide and afterlife of the party.

i also think the album art and (some of) the merch was really pretty, and its some of the only band merch ive purchased that i consistently wear and use. i got the vip pack and i didnt feel like it was overpriced. some of their other shit not in the pack was some of the ugliest and most overpriced garbage they’ve put up for sale. however the album art was so pretty i cant get over it. its my favorite album art definitely. i didnt like the llamas though— my roommate was a llama so im allowed to say that. i did really, really love their intro and what they had on the screen during hella mega. it was so much better than the emoji shit during abap, i loved it and it was very immersive and child-like but also grown up in a way the llamas were not. but pete is a furry so he needs his stupid costumes

[effeminateboyninja]

I had a dream last night that I had an unrequited crush on Shikamaru since forever but he and Temari had started dating.

(In the dream I had me and Shiki we’re walking and joking then Temari came over and then they went for dinner together. As Shikamaru’s friend I was like -arm punch- go on bro, have fun. And they walked away together leaving me feeling heartbroken, inadequate and inferior.)

You can do any scenario you want. I literally have an unrequited love playlist lol 😂❤️

oh anon, i've been there 😭 let us wallow in our unrequited love for Shikamaru together

~ Almost enough ~

(Shikamaru x fem!reader) angst // 1.7k words

Ten years. An entire decade with Shikamaru by your side, getting into the carefree mischief that defined such childhood friendships and growing so close people were surprised to see one of you without the other. More than half of it spent trying to ignore the butterflies and daydreams that would force you to admit you wanted him to be more. In hindsight it seemed inevitable, the way he’d snuck into your heart before you could even notice. With his striking intelligence and those penetrating eyes, the way he so readily discarded his lazy demeanor and replaced it with hardened determination when his friends needed him — how could you not love him?

You accepted it too late though, spent too many months agonizing over how to tell your best friend that you were head over heels for him, and by the time you were finally brave enough to take the plunge and make your confession he had one of his own. That day was cemented in your mind now, a stinging reminder of your own inaction. Against your better judgement you drifted back into the memory...

It was beautiful out, the warm air offset by a gentle breeze that carried the spring blossoms through the wind as he sat across the shogi board from you, his sharp brow furrowed in concentration as he analyzed the pieces to determine his next move. One of the petals caught in his dark hair and your hand moved to brush it away, but before you could he sat back with a sigh, “Do you wanna do something else? I’m not really into the game.”

“Why? Because I’m winning?” you teased.

He rolled his eyes and cracked a small grin. “You’re only winning because I’m not giving it my all,” he objected.

“Sure, sure,” you threw a light punch at his shoulder and you both laughed. He looked so pretty when he laughed. Not the snarky chuckle he used so often in public, but this unapologetically cheerful one accompanied by a toothy smile that was so carefree and genuine it transformed his serious face into something softer, more innocent. The words never seemed easier to say than it that moment, and without your permission they slipped through your lips as the laughter died out.

“I love you.”

He didn’t even skip a beat, returning your confession with an eye roll and a gentle shove. “Shut up dude, I love you too. You’re my best friend, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Your heart sunk a bit at his misinterpretation and you parted your lips to explain that yes, he’s your best friend too but he’s also so much more, but before you could he went on, “Speaking of love, I wanted to ask for some advice... about Temari.”

His eyes darted to his hands and a soft blush crept across his cheeks. You’d have thought he punched you in the stomach, not timidly asked for your help by the way your body tensed at his words. You didn’t know disappointment could feel so tangible until that moment, the way your stomach dropped to your feet and your hands went cold. “Temari?” you questioned, clearing your throat to rid it of the lump that had formed, “you love her?”

He jolted up and the red in his cheeks deepened. “Nono of course not!” he stammered, “I just… I like her a lot and like, you’re a girl right? How do I win her over?”

For the first time in your life you regretted being so close to him. Couldn’t he have gone to literally anyone else for help with this? Why did it have to be you? To him you were the only one he could approach about such an important topic. It wasn’t just because you were a girl that he asked, but because he valued your opinion above anyone else's. It was because even if it wasn’t the way you wanted, he wasn’t lying when he said he loved you too. So you pushed it all aside — all the heartbreak and sadness that threatened to overwhelm you — you buried it deep down inside for the sake of your friend, looking so nervous and vulnerable as he sat in front of you and put on a fake smile as you did your best to be what he needed in that moment.

“Well you’re a catch so it should be easy, but if you really want to impress her you should…”

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Shikamaru waved his hand in front of your eyes, pulling you out of your recollection and back to the present where you walked easily beside him through the streets, no real destination in mind.

You blinked a few times to reorient yourself and apologized with what you hoped was a reassuring smile, “Sorry, I’m just a little distracted today.”

He snickered, “Who has their head in the clouds now, huh?”

“You’ve been a bad influence on me,” you retorted with a smirk and he laughed.

“You’re probably right,” he conceded. “Hey, do you remember when we were kids and we would skip class to go cloud watching?”

He wore a thoughtful smile as he posed the question, his eyes lost in a content nostalgia. God, why did he have to look so damn perfect when he smiled?

You cleared your head and scoffed, “Of course. I still get grief from my mother about all the absence notes Iruka sensei sent home.”

He snorted, “You actually gave her those?! I always ripped mine up before she could see them,” his sentence trailed off into a laugh, one of those real ones that you lived for the sound of and you joined him, forgetting momentarily about your unrequited feelings.

But of course the moment ended much too soon. You noticed her at the same time he did, and you were glad the Nara man’s intense gaze was so singularly focused on the blonde woman ahead that he wouldn’t notice the way your face fell as your laughter cut off abruptly. She waved excitedly from her position a few blocks down and rushed towards you guys, her short pigtails bouncing behind her as she ran.

“Hey you guys!” she greeted the two of you excitedly as she arrived, giving Shikamaru a quick peck on the cheek, causing a small wince you hoped went unnoticed. “Ready for our date?”

“Shit! I almost forgot,” he palmed his forehead and turned to you apologetically, “we’re supposed to get dinner tonight, we have a reservation and everything. Sorry to leave you like this but we’ve gotta go.”

“No worries!” you flashed them a bright smile, one that was uncharacteristically wide in an attempt to compensate for your disappointment. “Go on and take your girl out. Have fun.”

You shoved him towards her lightly and Temari smiled, “Yeah! Listen to (y/n), she’s got the right idea.”

He looked at her the way you’d dreamed he would look at you and laced his fingers through hers, moving to lead her away in the direction of the restaurant. He looked over his shoulder and called back, “See ya tomorrow!” They both waved before turning back ahead, swaying gently as they matched each other’s steps.

“See ya…” you whispered to yourself, their shared giggles echoing off the buildings as they turned the corner and disappeared from your sight.

Nowhere else to go and not wanting to return to your empty apartment you turned to continue walking the sandy streets of the village and ponder. After a while you found yourself at a small pond, where you sat at the edge and peered into the calm water that reflected the crescent of the rising moon in it’s glossy reflection.

What was it about her? Why her and not you? Maybe it’s because she’s so beautiful, you thought forlornly as you traced the lines of your own plain features in the watery mirror below. You hit your hand over the surface to disturb the picture of yourself, water splashing back and mixing with tears that had started to fall on your cheeks.

That wasn’t it and you knew it. Shikamaru wasn’t that shallow. If he was this might be easier. He was with her and not you because she was perfect for him. Even you could admit that in spite of your own feelings she was his ideal match. He just lit up around her in a way that he never did when you were together, and as painful as that was there was an unselfish part of you that appreciated her for it.

You’d spent a lot of time trying to hate her. Trying to find a reason, any reason that they shouldn’t be together to justify telling him your truth and ruining it all — but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Underneath the hard exterior she really was kind, extremely so. She was more perceptive about matters of the heart than he was, and you suspected she knew of your true feelings for her boyfriend… but she never once made you feel bad about it or told him. Not that she needed to try to make you feel guilty, the feeling overwhelmed you everytime they were around, and even more so when it was just the two of you.

The small part that was left of you still concerned with self-preservation told you to cut them both off. To just stop answering his calls and disappear from their lives before you could slip up and lean in for the kiss you imagined millions of times. But he was addicting. No one else made you feel so at ease, made you laugh so joyfully except him. So you’d wade through the guilt and the knowledge that you were only hurting yourself just to spend a few minutes with him whenever you could, even if it meant watching him fall in love with someone else. Being his friend was enough. Almost.

[junosartsthetic]

Nostalgia.

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Pairing: ModernAu!Erwin Smith x female!reader

Word Count: 1876

Warning(s): Mentions of virginity loss, mild language

(Taken from my Quotev)

--

Photos scattered across the wood floor. The fan spun lazily in the spring air. Through the window, a breeze fluttered in. A cardboard box sat in the center of the photo collection, on it written ‘ERWIN’ in large scrawl. 

Hands delicately flipped through the photos, brushing at the figures within them. You remembered these moments fondly. 

A certain camera strip caught your eye, and you grasped at it from its location in the corner of the box. 

The edges were worn. ‘XOXO’ was written at the bottom of the four images.

You glanced at the large stone building in front of you, unsurprised at his choice of a first-date location. Though he was barely 18, Erwin acted so mature and refined. The local history museum fit his character perfectly. 

You glanced about, searching for the tall blond. Spotting the familiar gelled hair, you strolled over to where he was reading a paper on a stone bench. 

He looked up and his face glowed a faint red at the sight of you.

You wore a yellow sun dress with a jean jacket, though the weather was warm. The highlighter dusted on your cheeks shone in the midday sun, and he took a breath. 

“You ready to go in?” you prompted, giggling at his frozen posture. 

He regained movement, standing up and holding out an arm for you to take. “I’ve been here a lot, so I can give you a tour. Just let me know if it gets boring.”

You nudged him with your shoulder. “Oh, nothing you could say would bore me, Erwin. You’re too fascinating of a person.”

He cleared his throat, cheeks glistening pink. Rather than responding, he gave a swift nod, smiling gently. “Shall we, then?”

You winked. “Lead the way.”

He guided you inside, stopping at every exhibit to describe it to you. Each sentence enraptured you. The way he spoke so passionately, so confidently, like he was on a podium delivering a battle plan and not with you discussing an old plane engine. 

His eyes lit up when he talked. His hair became breeze-blown by the air conditioning. 

A bashful smile graced your lips the longer you two wandered. You held onto his arm like you’d known him forever, as though you two were soulmates.

When you spotted a photo booth near the gift shop, you knew you had to capture this moment. You had a feeling this first date was going places, and you knew you had to look back on it when it did. 

For the first photo, you two smiled awkwardly, sitting on opposite edges of the photo booth. By the third, you two had migrated and were laughing together, you grabbing onto his arm.

When the notification flashed for the fourth one, you glanced to your side, noticing his gleeful expression. His eyes were shut, his mouth open in a laugh at something you’d said. 

Quickly, you placed a light kiss on his cheek and the camera flashed.

His cheeks were red and his eyes were halfway open, shock just beginning to appear on his face. You were turned to the side and the lip gloss you wore could be seen glistening on his cheek as you started to pull away. 

You let out a lighthearted sigh. You remember how bashful the two of you got afterwards.

You set the picture aside, glancing back into the box. 

An old polaroid caught your eye, and you pulled it out, examining it. It was a rather blurry and too bright picture of a homemade cake. A giant red ‘X’ ran across the word ‘virgin’ and behind the cake sat the pair of you. Your arms were across your face in embarrassment and Erwin was in the middle of laughing, a bright red blush on his cheeks as he pointed to Hanji, who had just set the cake down on the table. 

“What are you all even doing here?” you asked, arms still firmly covering your face. You were wrapped in only a robe, your hair a wild mess. Erwin only had his boxers on.

One moment, you two were asleep in his bed, exhausted from….. Not important. The next moment, arms were pulling you out of bed as Hanji shoved a cake in front of your faces.

“Congratulations, you nerds!” she said, a large grin on her face. Behind her lurked your other friends, all mildly amused. “You’re no longer virgins! How does it feel losing your virginity in your twenties? Is it embarrassing? On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

As Hanji continued to ramble, Mike grabbed each of your arms and sat you two at the kitchen table, the cake now in front of you. 

The cameraman was Levi, his usually stoic expression replaced with a slight smirk. Your arms raced to cover your face as Erwin laughed.

The camera flashed. 

You laughed at the memory.

Returning to your reminiscing, you gazed into the box once more. This time, a rectangular photo drew your attention. You reached out, grasping it gently.

Your eyes began to swell with tears as you looked at the photo.

You had your arms around Erwin’s neck, you two locked in a kiss. A bus waited behind the two of you. Erwin donned an Army uniform, a bag at his feet. 

You sniffled as you grabbed onto Erwin’s arm, the bus pulling up. You knew his dream was to become a great military leader, but you didn’t want him to leave. 

You knew his friends were accompanying him, but you didn’t care. 

When the bus finally came to a stop, you looked into Erwin’s eyes. He gave you a soft smile as though to say ‘everything will be okay.’

You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him one last time before he left for an entire year.

The camera flashed. 

Wiping a stray tear from your face, you set the photo aside, continuing to rummage. 

The photo which gave you pause was a Polaroid. There was a hospital bed and two figures. The first lay in bed while the other hugged them.

As soon as you pulled into the hospital, you ran out, racing towards the entrance. A familiar face gave you pause. 

At seeing Levi, you sprinted towards him, pulling him in for a hug.

He gave a light squeeze back before gesturing for you to follow. 

Upon entering the desired room, you spotted him. Erwin was currently asleep, his normally pristine form now messy, his hair swept about. Bruises littered his body. You spotted scars that weren’t there before.

Most heart wrenching of all was one of his arms. Where it once was, a bandaged stump remained. 

“A grenade,” Levi said. “I tried to—”

You looked behind you, giving him a sad smile. “Levi, this is not your fault.”

You stepped slowly towards the bed, moving to his good side. 

Reaching a hand out, you cupped his face, tears splashing onto the hospital bed as you sobbed. “Sweetheart,” you prompted, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Can you hear me? You were hurt badly, baby. I’m worried about you. Can you open your eyes so I know… you’re okay?”

Slowly, two piercing blue eyes fluttered open, and you let out a cry of relief, clutching at his hospital gown. 

A large calloused hand rested on your back, rubbing soothing circles. “It’s okay, darling. I’m here. I’m okay.”

Erwin glanced towards Levi, who held a camera. Levi had an almost unnoticeable smile on his lips. 

The camera flashed.

You blinked away your tears, moving to the next photograph which interested you.

A vibrant and large photo was pulled from the box. A man and woman were kissing. People along the edges of the photo cheered.

You tried your best to keep your eyes tear free as Erwin recited his vows. He’d written them on a piece of bright pink paper. He said it represented how he felt around you. 

Hanji, who managed to snag a license just to officiate your wedding, stood between the two of you.

After Erwin finished, Hanji spoke up. “Without further ado, you may kiss the bride.”

With that, Erwin swooped you towards him, still dipping you excellently despite his missing appendage, and kissed you so hard you had to wrap your arms around his neck to keep your legs from giving out from under you.

The cheers of your friends echoed in your ears. A vintage love song played over the speakers. The breeze lilted through the outside venue, cherry blossoms scattering about. 

The camera flashed. 

You let out a dreamy sigh. That was only two years ago and now you two were living in a nice suburban house together. 

The grandfather clock in your living room sounded.

You snapped out of your daydreams. You knew he’d be home any minute now, so you quickly gathered up the photos, placing them back in the box before setting it back in the basement. 

You jogged up the stairs, hearing a doorbell ring.

You opened the door to find all of your closest friends and beckoned them inside. 

“So what’s up?” Hanji asked, taking a seat on the blue sofa. “You sounded urgent over the phone. Something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s just… I feel like I need to tell everyone I love at the same time, not just Erwin.”

Levi quirked an eyebrow. “What, you getting a divorce?”

Mike nudged Levi, who shrugged. “Just asking.”

Hanji let out a laugh. “Even if they did, she’d never fall back to you so don’t get your hopes up!”

Levi’s pale face gained a red color at that. “That’s not what I was implying, you shitty-shit.”

Hanji went to respond, but the door opening stopped her. 

Erwin looked shocked at seeing his wife and closest friends gathering in his living room.

“Uhh, darling, what’s going on? Did I miss a holiday?”

You laughed, strolling over to kiss his cheek and take off his coat. “No, just sit down please. Someone get a camera ready.”

Hanji pulled out her phone, as did Mike and Levi. Once all of them found a seat, you cleared your throat, still standing. “Okay, now, Erwin, sweetheart, don’t panic.”

He threw you a concerned look, eyebrows furrowed. “Panic?”

You took a deep breath, intertwining your hands before placing them on your stomach. You gazed about the silent room. “Okay, here goes…” You formed the biggest smile you could. “I’m pregnant!”

Hanji shrieked in excitement. Mike flashed a look of extreme concern. Levi clicked his tongue. Erwin remained silent, a hand running through his hair.

You looked at your husband, eyes searching for any emotion.

He made eye contact with you, and you soon realized he was crying.

“Sweetheart, are you—”

Your words were cut off when he stood up before gently kneeling in front of you. He placed his hand on your stomach, looking up at you. He looked so infatuated. So in love with you. “I’m going to be a father?”

You sniffled, nodding. “Yes. You’re going to be a father.”

He leaned his forehead against your stomach, his hand still resting there. Tears fell down his face. “I’m going to be a father…”

The camera flashed.

[lightns881]

DTeam Tumblr Demographics Survey Results (Part 1):

The Gifted Child Syndrome is Real with this One...

*Rubs hands together in preparation for some juicy data and in-depth analysis of the typical member of the DTeam Tumblr community*

Ooooooooh boy! Here we go!

I want to start of by thanking you guys for over 400 responses to the demographics survey! Y’all have no idea how much I appreciate it! We have so much to cover, so I’m going to divide up different sections of the survey into several posts to make it more digestable and do justice to each topic explored in the form! We’re going to start of with, you guessed it, personality types!

Strap yourself in because we’re about to thoroughly dissect your sub-conscious innerworkings and find out how the typical DTeam Tumblr Fan thinks! (And judging by the majority personality types, you guys will probably enjoy it)

The Delicious Data

From the 449 responses we received, this is a pie chart displaying the personality types of all respondents.

Image Description: INFP (40.5%), INTP (15.1%), INFJ (8.9%), INTJ (8.9%), ISFP (6.9%), ENFP (4.2%), ISTP (4.0%), ENTP (3.8%), ESFP (1.6%), ISFJ (1.6%), ENTJ (1.3%), ENFJ (1.3%), ISTJ (1.1%), ESTP (0.4%), ESFJ (0.2%), ESTJ (0%)

In comparison, this is a pie chart displaying the personality type percentages of the population as a whole according to the MBTI website.

Image Description: ISTP (14%), ESFJ (12%), ISTJ (12%), ISFP (9%), ESTJ (9%), ESFP (8%) ENFP (8%), ISTP (5%), INFP (4%), ESTP (4%), INTP (3%), ENTP (3%), ENFJ (2%), INTJ (2%), ENTJ (2%), INFJ (1%)

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sensing a tiny difference here... Oh, right!

INxx’s on the Loose!

It’s funny. When I first found one of the 18+ DTeam fan servers through Tumblr, I asked everyone what their personality type was. I was pleasantly surprised when a lot of them told me they were INFPs like me!

It actually reminded me of MatPat’s (Game Theory) survey for one of his Life Is Strange theories that found the majority personality there was also INFP...

Funny enough, can you guess what the second leading personality on that survey was? The third? The fourth?

You probably guessed it right. MatPat found that out of the fans who responded, the leading majority was INFP while INTPs came in second, INFJs came in third, and INTJs came in fourth. The exact order for the personality types in DTeam Tumblr.

But why is it that some of the rarer personalities of the world are dominating DTeam Tumblr or Game Theory’s fanbase? What is it about these communities that attract the rare introverted Intuitive Perceivers (INxP) and Intuitive Judgers (INxJ) of the world like magnets?

The Gifted Kid Syndrome

To answer this question, first we have to examine our leading personalities. As we can see from the data, INFPs and INTPs make up 55.6% and INFJs and INTJs make up 17.8% of the total respondents. That’s nearly 3/4′s of the DTeam Tumblr population made up of INxx types!

Now, here’s me calling y’all out.

A lot of you probably relate to the quiet kid sitting at the back of the classroom who’s put into some type of TAG, gifted program, or some authority figure has probably called you smart and/or “gifted” at some point in your life. Academics probably came easy to you at one point, maybe they still do.

You’ve probably felt your chest swell up at the shower of compliments about your intelligence and at another... you’ve probably felt like people put you in a pedestal and overrate you so you’re stuck with this inherent fear of failure, and it causes you to completely shut down when the things that came easy to you at one point no longer do so. 

It’s gifted kid syndrome hitting you like a brick to the face. And if it hasn’t yet, oh you’re in for a surprise, honey.

And I’m sure many of you have come across funny, relatable posts like this:

And you want to know why most of you relate?

Image Description: INTP, INTJ, INFP, anf INFJ’s rate the highest in a giftedness per MBTI Type chart

No. You’re not hallucinating. It’s not even a joke at this point. It feels true because it probably is true.

(Granted, the study that captured similar results to this graph is long lost to the internet, but the best source I found with it was a reddit post I will be citing in the reblog.)

Now, my next point is where we find a split.

INFPs and INTPs and their Need to Question Everything (even if it’s about one sentence [insert creator here] said that one time during a 4-hour long stream)

The strongest connection I found between the two leading personalities of DTeam Tumblr is they share Extraverted Intuiting (Ne) as their auxiliary cognitive function.

I’ll use a quote that explains Ne better than I could ever explain it in my own words:

“Extraverted intuition or Ne is very much focused on patterns and making connections from information they gather... Ne dominant users enjoy being able to explore things in a much more open manner, not wanting to feel closed off to the possibilities around them... They are also highly imaginative people, who enjoy being able to come up with unique hobbies and experiences... They are not afraid of imagining things which seem almost impossible to others... [For INFPs,] Ne is what creates this detailed and incredible thoughts process which keeps them busy for long periods of time.”

And another:

“Auxiliary Ne manifests in people constantly questioning the world around them, but unlike ENxPs, they can be more pick and choose about this. But generally, they don’t take people, things and events at face value.“

Now, think about the community you’re in right now. Think about the post you’re reading at the moment.

DTeam Tumblr is full of over-analysis posts, whether about Dream and George’s secret love for each other or about the inherent problems with Dream’s shipbait and gay jokes or theories about what’s going to happen next in the dream SMP lore and the dramatic betrayals and creator’s descend into madness and more theories about sexuality and charts depicting creator’s personalities and what they’d be likely to do in different scenarios and... ooof, I’m out of breath here. You get my point.

DTeam Tumblr is literally a group of ex-gifted or gifted introverted people who love to read or write analysis, theory, and discussion posts about sweaty Minecraft Youtubers because they’re probably too overwhelmed by real life and find joy in obsessing over “dumb” things.

That’s it. That’s literally the post. I might as well end there.

But I won’t. 

Because obsessions is exactly what I want to focus on next.

The Inherent Nature of the INFP and their “Micro-Obsessions”

This is me having a one-to-one conversation with all my INFPs reading this.

Do you sometimes just set your mind on a goal--like, let’s say, writing a book--and you spend so much time obsessing over it to the point where you burn out and suddenly it never sees the light of day because you move onto your next goal or obsession because now you’re getting ready to launch your freelance website so you can start a business on [insert new hobby here]?

Or do you just suddenly find a fandom or a show or a channel you really enjoy and you spend the next few months doing nothing but engaging with it and reading fanfiction and drawing fan art or making dumb analysis posts on your main Tumblr account where suddenly you get an influx of followers from that community and now people are expecting you to just post about MCYT!?

Oh, sorry, I got a little carried away at the end there...

Anyhow, my point is, do you ever develop an obsession over something all the sudden only for it to just disappear when you find something new or just fall into the deep crevices of your mind only for it to maybe reemerge a few years later after you get a deep sense of nostalgia remembering it?

I call them micro-obsessions. And I recently found out, I’m not the only one who does this!

Here’s another quote for you: 

“According to Carl Jung’s theory of cognitive functions, when an INFP makes a decision, Ne comes in second to another process known as Introverted Feeling (Fi). Fi does not use logic to make a decision. It uses how we feel about the decision according to our values. In other words, it asks, “Which choice feels right for me?”

Ne, on the other hand, craves new ideas and experiences to explore, which causes INFPs to always be on the lookout for something novel.

Unfortunately, INFPs can get stuck in a loop, going back and forth between their Ne and Fi. They search to understand their values by constantly trying new things. They ask themselves, “Does this feel right?” then throw it over their shoulder as they move on to something else.”

So, you’re probably asking right about now, Light, how the heck does any of this have anything to do with the Dream Team and MCYT!?

Well, my friend, it has EVERYTHING to do with the Dream Team and MCYT and DTeam Tumblr as a whole.

Because INxx’s are predisposed to end up in places like this--fandoms on Tumblr, channels that speculate whether Mario is evil, watching dramatic Minecraft smp wars and elections as opposed to looking at the news that depicts Murphy’s Law as 2020′s new favorite epigram. 

The introvert in them causes them to prefer socializing in small communities online where they’re not forced to engage in conversations if they don’t want to or put into uncomfortable situations where they have to talk to that one friend of their friend who wants to make meaningless small chat.

Their Intuition causes them to wonder into places like Tumblr where they can engage in deep discussions about their newest obsessions, and they won’t be judged for writing a 500+ word post about why Dream’s shipbait tactics are a genius algorithm strat or simping over sweaty Minecraft boys.

DTeam Tumblr is a safe haven for INFPs and INTPs who might be placed in the “other” category or marked as weird for being interested in “childish” entertainment or being different from the general population overall, whether that’d be sexuality, point of view, age, gender, etc. A place where you can fully be yourself and not have to worry about disappointing people.

INFPs are predisposed for drowning themselves in their micro-obsessions to avoid all of the madness in the world--even if that means giggling like a little girl while reading memes about your favorite Minecraft YouTube creators.

That is a deep-dive into the mind of a typical DTeam Tumblr user. What do you think? Is it accurate at all? Is it completely off? Let me know in the comments!

And with that, I digress. I’m not sure whether I’ll be covering general demographics next week or diving into the topic of ships (could be a mix of both), but I will be posting about it eventually, so make sure to hit the follow if you got to the end of this post and enjoyed it or learned something new from it!

Friendly reminder that this survey and post is in no way supposed to be taken 100% seriously. These are just the ramblings of a math major INFP with too much time on her hands and way too big of an obsession for MCYT. My asks are always open for literally anything, whether if you want to ask me about this or any DNF related subject, my own opinions, or just criticize the whole of this post and tell me it’s complete trash! I’ll answer as long as it’s appropriate!

And, again, thank you everyone who filled out the survey. Without y’all, this post wouldn’t be possible. I really enjoyed writing it! Adios!

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

A Childhood Promise

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - None I don’t think

Word Count - 2.5k

Other Comments - I hate posting on Tumblr I’m not gonna lie to you guys. Trying to get this shit to post has been so hard. Please I just want a crumb of recognition tumblr. Let people see my posts.

      Life used to be so simple when you were younger. You had a lovely close knit family, you went to a great school, you had great friends. All around you were a happy little kid. The best thing you will ever remember from your childhood was your best friend Ajax. Everything was so simple.

Ajax was the poster child of a “perfect kid”. He was well liked by his teachers and peers, he had superb grades, he was becoming a young prodigy in his combat class, and above all, he was your all time best friend. You two were inseparable ever since you had met when your parents had all gotten to know each other once at an event.

     No one ever really saw one of you without the other, and if they ever did come across such a sight, it would never last long. You two also almost went through the entirety of school being in the same class, and if you weren’t, Ajax would always find a way to catch you right as you were being dismissed. You two had the most innocent yet cliché childhood friendship, as you two played with each other or hung out day after day.

     “One day (y/n) I’m going to marry you! I promise!” Ajax enveloped you in a hug as the two of you giggled.

     This lasted for quite some time, that was until Ajax had turned eighteen. His combat skills had skyrocketed since his adolescent classes and competitive matches. Combat came like second nature to him, and that didn’t go by unnoticed. Very quickly Ajax got an offer for a job, one that he would never tell you details about. You remember the shock that enveloped you when Ajax excitedly spouted the good news to you.

     You didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. You wanted to be happy for your childhood friend because this was an amazing offer for him, and an incredible opportunity to keep growing. But on the other hand you wanted to be sad because you knew you would see him less and less as time went on, not only that but you were still just so uncertain about this job. Ajax never withheld information about what was going on in his life until now; what if he got himself into something awful? Nonetheless you quickly plastered a shocked and excited expression on your face, as you rambled different forms of congrats and praise for being so good. Before Ajax left to go back to his home you gave him the tightest hugged and made him promise to stay close. Ajax was floored that you valued your friendship with him so much you would make him promise something he would never give up.

     Time had passed and you noticed yourselves slowly drifting apart. It went from calling each other less, to only texting, then to texting less until you guys barely talked. You understood Ajax was busy, but it still stung seeing you what you thought would’ve been your life long friend slowly forget about you. That was until you had received something in the mail with a very familiar name on it. Ajax.

     A small black box containing what looked to be a hand made scrappily hammered ring along with a letter at the bottom landed on your desk in your bedroom, assuming one of your parents must’ve dropped it off in there. All doubts about Ajax in your mind had been eased as you delicately slid the heavy polished ring on your finger. After you did you giggled in excitement as a delicate pink blush found its way to the tops of your cheeks and ears. You had almost forgotten about the note neatly folded, awaiting to be opened and it’s contents to be discovered.

      You gently unfolded the letter, almost scared that you’d rip it. Inside was the most beautifully written borderline love letter you had ever read, it was almost like romantic poetry, and at the very end was a sentence you wanted to burn into your memory ‘remember that promise?’. Your mind was immediately flooded with all the fond memories you had with Ajax, blushing more and more as you uncovered them. By the end of your daydream session butterflies were fluttering around excitedly in your stomach. You didn’t want to be friends with Ajax anymore. You wanted to love him.

     It had been years since you last heard from him. Not a day has gone by that you haven’t worn the ring Ajax had given you so long ago. You moved away from Snezhnaya after you turned eighteen, now residing in Mondstadt whilst you were going to college; you planned to move back after getting your degree but you made some great friends and the carefree culture of the windy city really called to you. Though after one of your parents' health took a turn for the worst you had made quick plans to go visit with your family.

     It had felt like ages since you last stepped foot out into the familiar icy air, looking around to see the sheets of snow and ice covering the ground. Luckily the streets were plowed, which allowed you to maneuver through the city. Your visit has been great since setting foot in your childhood home. You were happy to be home for the time being, happy to relive the nostalgic moments of your younger days. Everything had changed so much since then. You had barely even thought about Snezhnaya or even Ajax for that matter despite wearing his ring every day, wanting to start fresh when you left for college.

      You suddenly realized you had let your head drop accidentally dozing off, jerking yourself out of melancholy memories. You decided it was probably jet lag, but it was far too early to go to sleep so coffee sounded like a good solution. You remembered an old coffee shop you used to study at whilst you were in high school, that was conveniently within walking distance to your house. With a quick five minute walk to the outdoor shops that littered the local streets you lived by, you located the coffee shop taking a minute to stare at the outside. It hadn’t changed at all.

     Smiling to yourself you walked in and politely ordered a coffee before sitting down at a high table by the window. The stand for the table had a heater built in, keeping you warm as you looked out the thin glass shielding you from the icy winds. You took in the old streets, smiling as you once again lost yourself in the nostalgia of everything. You hadn’t noticed a strikingly tall ginger walk into the shop, and you also hadn’t noticed the considerably loud gasp and call of your name. You only noticed the man's presence when he tapped on your table, causing you to jolt and promptly turn in his directly. It took you a minute to realize who you were staring at.

     “(Y/n)? What the hell are you doing here?” Ajax. There he stood, at the side of you bent over at the hips slightly so he wasn’t completely towering over you. Ajax didn’t want to see you here. He didn’t want to see you at all. You were still fresh in his mind just like you were the last day he had seen you. He missed you. His eyes fell to your hand where he saw the ring he had made and sent to you still on your finger after all these years.

     Your face was almost unrecognizable after all the time that passed, you had grown so much since then. Something unsettled Ajax about your demeanor, you were like an open book to him when you guys were younger as you wore your heart on your sleeve. Looking at you now though, there was no glimpse at the emotions you were feeling in this moment. Were you happy to see him again, since you wore his ring? Were you upset with him breaking his promise? Ajax couldn’t tell as you stared blankly at him for what seemed like ages, giving it enough time to make the air solidify and turn stale and uncomfortable. You finally shook yourself out of this trance you were in, as you suddenly stood up.

     “Wha- Hey, wait a minute (y/n)! What are you doing here?” You didn’t acknowledge Ajax’s voice, subliminally yearning to fall into his strong arms. You were upset. How dare he ask you what you’re doing here. You weren’t the one who had completely abandoned everyone in your life for some sketchy job. You grabbed your coffee before swiftly beginning to exit. Something in Ajax was different. He didn’t really take kindly to you ignoring him, as you felt a vice like grip grab onto your wrist, causing you to flinch and whip around to angrily rip your arm out of his grasp.

     “Don’t touch me Ajax! How dare you have the audacity to ask me what I’m doing here! This was my home! I didn’t abandon everyone I knew and loved on some sketchy ass whim!” Ajax stared at you. Were you joking?! Some ‘sketchy ass whim’?! You supported him when he first told you!

     “What the hell is wrong with you (y/n)?!” Your eyes narrowed as you grit your teeth, you grip on your coffee tightening. Without even thinking you threw it in his face.

     “What’s wrong with me?! You’re so fucked up Ajax! We were best friends and then you completely vanish from reality! You promised me we would stay close!” Now it was time for Ajax to grit his teeth. So you were upset with him about that.

     “(Y/n) that was years ago!! We grew up! That was just a stupid childish promise!” As soon as those words left Ajax’s mouth, he went silent as his eyes widened in horror at his on voice. The entire coffee shop was silent as they all watched your argument break out. Ajax didn’t mean to say that, he knew he had fucked up his promise with you and he hated himself for it; he just didn’t know how to explain what he was doing without scaring you off or pushing you away. Turns out he was already doing that by vanishing. He wanted you to forget about him, he knew that when he took the job to join the Fatui and serve the Tsaritsa he would never be able to give you what you deserved. A normal and happy relationship. Ajax was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a sniff and realized you were beginning to cry.

     “Ah… So that’s what it was. Just a way to get me to get off your back. I suppose the ring served the same purpose? Whatever Ajax, you’ve changed and I don’t ever wanna see you again.” You quickly ripped the ring off before throwing it in the trash as you stormed out, trying not to audibly cry, as you had already embarrassed yourself enough in that shop. Ajax stood statuesque still. Holy shit he had made everything so much worse. He sighed before snapping out of his position to grab some napkins, to hopefully dry himself off before venturing back outside. He had to fix this.

     It had been a couple days since your argument with Ajax and you were in shambles. This could not have come at a worse time. You were just happy that this Gods awful trip was coming to an end soon. You sighed as you flipped onto your back in your childhood bedroom, trying to reminisce on the old memories you had here, but all of them had gotten tainted by Ajax. He had ruined everything for you. You regretted everything with him, with getting so close to him. Tears had started to well up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away before they had gotten the chance to fall. You hadn’t noticed before, but there was this weird tapping sound coming from your window; which caused you to anxiously investigate. You pulled your curtains back to be greeted with Ajax, who looked at you sheepishly. You blankly stared at him for a moment before closing the curtains and going back to lay on your bed, trying your hardest to ignore Ajax’s protests and calls of your name. After a while everything had gone silent, until your door opened and Ajax emerged one again.

     “Uh… I’m sorry about coming into your room uninvited but one of your parents called me inside and said I could just come in. In hindsight I probably should’ve knocked before coming in and-”

     “What the hell do you want Ajax.” You cut off the young man's babbling without looking at him, you were on your side laying down on your bed with your back facing him.

     “I wanted to make everything up to you. I want to explain everything and I want to tell you about my job finally.” Ajax was hopeful that you would allow him the opportunity to explain himself.

     “No. Now get out of my house.” Ajax’s heart sunk. No… No no no you had to let him explain himself, he needed to explain. He needed you.

     “Please (y/n) I know you don’t owe me anything, not even your time, but please I owe you this.” You sighed, before slowly sitting up and facing him finally. You stared at him for a moment before speaking.

     “Fine. But you have two minutes, so you better speak quickly.” Ajax’s heart fluttered. He spent those two minutes exactly, explaining everything that happened. You were silent for the most part, staring at your hand and you fiddled with your fingers. Ajax waited anxiously for your response. When you didn’t give him anything he took this as a sign to move onto faze two of his apology. For the last couple of days he had been running all over Snezhnaya spending preposterous amounts of mora. He had presented you with flowers and food; but above all he presented you with a ring.

     “That is one promise that I am going to keep true. Please (y/n) forgive me and make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.” You stared at him with large eyes and Ajax took a hold of one of your hands and gently slid the beautiful ring onto your ring finger. Tears once again began to well up in your eyes, and suddenly your arms were wrapped around his torso as you cried into his chest. You missed this. He still felt the same way he did when you hugged him last, he even smelled the same.

     “Is that… A yes?” You nodded furiously, face still buried deep in his chest. You were willing to forgive him, but above all, you were willing to love him again.

[sunlightwoo]

Spring Snow

☀︎ pairing: spy!sunwoo x reader

☀︎ genre: spy-au, warning: mentions of death & blood, angst, but there is a happy ending :)

☀︎wc: 2.7k

☀︎ plot: It was pure coincidence that the boy you always caught eyes with at the cafe happened to be on days that it snowed. However you knew that he was someone that you couldn’t find yourself being with, because he was someone that you should’ve stayed away from in the first place.

☀︎ a/n: i’m not gonna lie, i struggled writing this for weeks cause i wasn’t sure how i wanted to go with the idea for it, however i did like how this kinda ended up being even though i suck at endings hehe. anyways, happy march everyone!! i hope you’re all ready for the sunwoo angst that i have yet to provide :)

[ gina is listening to: end of spring - onewe ]

COLLAB MASTERLIST | MY TBZ MASTERLIST

There was snow today, you took note of mentally, as you stared out the window with curiosity in your eyes. You weren’t sure what it had meant as it was already mid March and well into the season of spring, as the flurries of snow continued to fall from the sky. Sitting by your window with your thoughts jumbled in your mind, you listen to the small silence that was filling into your room, just seconds before it was interrupted by someone knocking on your door frame.

“Are you going to stay cooped up in here, or are you actually going to leave for class soon?”

The owner of the sarcastic statement happened to be your best friend and roommate, Hyunjae, asks and he gives you an intrigued look on his face just as his arms were crossed over his chest. For as long as you can remember, he had always been the one to bring you out of the thoughts that made you occupy the window for hours on end.

“They were all canceled today because my professors didn’t want to teach while it snowed.” You reply, giving him a small smile and he gives you a jokingly exasperated look before walking over to hand you an envelope that was in his hand.

You look up at him in confusion, unsure of what was on the note knowing that on the outside was an unfamiliar handwriting that was sprawled on it with your name on it. Without any return addresses or a name to go with it, you carefully take the envelope into your hands and examine it closely just as you were able to smell a familiar scent of cologne that overtakes your senses.

Had it already been that long?

“It’s been two years, Y/N.” Hyunjae whispers quietly as he takes a seat right where your feet were currently resting as you knew what he had meant by that, and it was all because you were too scared to face the inevitable that you had created back then.

You continued to stare at the envelope when you held it up to your nose slightly and could smell the stronger scent of the cologne easily wafting up to your nose as the semi-sloppy handwriting that was sprawled on the cover brought back the nostalgia of the first time that you had met him. From that moment then you recalled meeting him whenever it had started to snow in the middle of spring, up until that one day that you decided to leave first before he could even do it.

“I thought I told you both that I didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. There’s nothing left for me to talk or solve.” You whispered softly before holding out the envelope back for Hyunjae to take when he gives you an appointed look on his face.

“Don’t you want to read it for closure?”

Your last encounter with the owner of the letter wasn’t as graceful as you wanted it to be, remembering the yelling and arguments that came from both sides of the party that one night. The memories of that night being as clear as the moonlight that shined then was like a record playing on repeat, and you hated how much you often thought about it despite the fact that you had moved on from those precise moments.

“No. I hate him, and want nothing to do with Kim Sunwoo.”

A lie that you often told yourself for two years since you first witnessed him leave past the front door of your old apartment complex.

And just like that, he became a flower that had yet to blossom in the snowing spring.

It was the year of 2017 when you had first found the quiet little cafe that had been closeby the apartment that you moved into for the new college that you had transferred to. Being ready to start the next two to three years of your life getting your bachelors degree and experience, you thought that you were finally at peace with yourself when you noticed that it had begun to snow mid-March when you had moved in.

You recall how quiet your neighborhood was that twentieth day of March, and after putting on a warm coat and your newly made keys for the apartment, you decided to check out the cafe on your own in attempts to find something to warm you up. Entering the cafe, however, felt like you were welcomed with a new sense of warm that had yet to envelope you like you were entering another territory of heaven.

The smell of rich coffee beans and freshly baked goods filled your nose as your eyes had already found purchase on the menu that was right across your peripheral vision and it amused you how delicious everything sounded. You remember ordering a cup of hot chocolate and a warm melted chocolate chip cookie that day making it your regular order, only changing it on occasions that you were in a rush or in need of a sudden burst of energy.

But you remember when you had first seen him that day, and you often thought about whether or not you regret that very moment every second of the day.

There was something about the way that he strode his way across that had captivated you at the time, and you were most definite that he knew you were looking at him even after you locked eyes, but that didn’t stop him from taking a seat with you. That day, the two of you had gotten to know each other and you learned his name as he did with yours.

Kim Sunwoo, you remember hearing him introduce to you that day and maybe it was the light in his eyes that sparkled which might’ve made you want to learn more about him. The memories of you both instantly clicking that day haunts you, because you remember only finding him in that cafe whenever it happened to snow in the spring, and it carried on into the next spring the year after.

“What do you even do for a living, Sunwoo? I’ve only seen you when it snows here in the spring.” You remember saying to him then, and the rest was history as you remember him asking you out the following evening after he had told you what he did.

He told you he was part of a spy group and you had gotten the pleasure to know each of the members that were in the said group that he was in. They treated you like family and you were grateful to have met them when you did, since you didn’t always grow up in the tight friend groups that people often had around them in college, however with them it felt safe.

Sunwoo had always kept you away from the dangerous spy scene, and at first you were scared with how it might’ve worked out considering your life could’ve been in danger at any given point. However, as you were dating Sunwoo and moved in with him eventually, you were more protected and you never thought of it as anything as he was always the normal guy that you had stumbled into at the cafe with secret dates in the city.

You knew that it was a dangerous living, what they always did, and you couldn’t imagine how Hyunjae could’ve been part of it for years, but somehow with him being your roommate it felt safer than being with Sunwoo. That night when it all happened two years ago could’ve been your worst night that you’ve ever had, because it was something that snowballed from pent up anger and thoughts that neither of you talked out.

It was another night where you were spending it alone at your apartment knowing that the only time you’ve ever seen Sunwoo was at the little cafe when it snowed in March because of how often he was sent on missions by Sangyeon. It was rare for him to come home, and you thought that maybe you should just leave considering you weren’t even sure of the last time that he held you properly after almost two years of dating.

“You’re overreacting, love.” He sighs to himself quietly as the rag that he just had in his hands was tossed into a laundry basket that was filled with old clothes and towels that needed to be cleaned due to the fact that they were stained with blood.

Something that he had come home more often with, and you started to hate this side of him.

“I’m overreacting? When was the last time that you actually came home safe without any blood on your hands, or someone else’s life hanging by the very thread?” You retort and the vivid memory of feeling frustrated with him still sat at the pit of your stomach.

“I’m doing this for the both of our safeties, Y/N-”

“And if one of us doesn't make it through the end of the night, what then?”

That very sentence itself held a lot of tension as the spewed forgotten words were tossed around like fire and oil. With a slammed door and fire still waiting to be ignited at the tip of your tongues, you decided that you didn’t want to be involved with him anymore and go back to your old place to finish off your degrees and find the dream job that you wanted.

With now just a year left before you can graduate and get your masters, you are sitting at your window with thoughts pondering and infiltrating your mind, wondering if those nights should be filled with regrets. The envelope that was outstretched to Hyunjae felt heavy in your hands, and his words of possibly reading the letter for closure continued to linger in your mind up until the point where you thought that maybe it couldn’t hurt to read what the male still had to say to you.

But you felt tears in your eyes by the time that you had fully opened the letter to look at the sprawled words that were written on the small piece of paper, and with every word came a beautiful piece of him that you remembered loving.

It’s been a while hasn’t it, love?

By the time that you’re reading this, it’s way past the time since I walked out on us and I know it’s not your fault.

I think when I walked out that night, it was the idea of you being in constant danger because of me that always made me fear for the worst, hence why Hyunjae is still staying with you as your roommate. I convinced Sangyeon to let him stay with you rather than me, because well I think we know the reason why.

I haven’t been the best boyfriend to you, and there were many times that I wanted to just say sorry and let you hit or yell at me, but you didn’t. I know you couldn’t.

Do you remember that night when we celebrated our first anniversary at our place, just talking about how someday we can just go somewhere that can only be our own home? I always thought that it was in you whenever I always came back from a rough or long mission that led me away from you, but I guess it did more damage than I thought…

I regret a lot of things, Y/N, and I know that one of them was letting you go after I walked out the door, because I know that was my fault.

However, I want to make it right someday and try again after we talk it out, because I don’t think I can love anyone else the same way that I loved you, even if you may not feel the same way after all of this.

Until the next spring snow?

- KSW

The words left an unsettling feeling in your heart as you closed the letter in your hands and left it on your window porch as you curled up your knees closer to your chest. You weren’t sure when Hyunjae had left you in the middle of reading it, but you did know that he had left the house keys right beside your feet and you knew that he had left it there in case you did want to find Sunwoo again after reading it.

And you did.

You remember that it was yet another spring that it snowed and decided to grab your coat and shoes, before heading out of your home to head towards the one place that you used to call your own spot. With your heart practically beating out of your chest you can only imagine what you want to say to him in comparison to what might actually be said if you were to see him in the park that he first took you to in the city.

You were fearful of the idea that he wouldn’t change, but rather keep the dirty side of his job in his life and to put you aside again if you were to go back to how things went before, but you also had never called it off either you think as you had gotten closer to the park that was just five minutes away.

However you already saw the back of his head by the time that you had reached the rows of cherry blossom trees that bloomed and were currently being covered by the flurry of snow. You were breathless, to say the least, with the fact that he had came back on a day like today, and you weren’t sure what to say as you had stood only a couple feet away from him.

“Sunwoo?” You whispered in a quiet voice and watched as the latter turned around at the sound of his name being called, and you weren’t sure what to say.

“Hi, my love.” He whispers back with a small smile on his face and takes one step forward to test the waters, up until you decided to take it upon yourself to throw yourself onto him to embrace his warmth, afraid that he would leave again if you didn’t take advantage of the fact that he was here right now.

“You came back.”

“I only came back because I still love you,” He says and pulls back to look into your eyes, the same ones that he knows that he has fallen in love with from then, when he gently takes your face into the palms of his hands while brushing away the stray snowflakes that had fallen on top of your cheeks.

“Do you still-

“I still love you, if that’s what you want me to say- I’ll shout it out right now. I love you, Kim Sunwoo, and am so in love with you that I am willing to humiliate myself multiple times by waiting for you whenever it decides to snow in the spring-”

He immediately cuts you off with a rough, but also passionate kiss against your lips that had taken your breath away from the first touch. To him, it might’ve felt like he was doing it because it might’ve been the last chance that he had as you kissed him back, but somehow you knew that this might be your last chance with him as well, which was why you thought that maybe fate had let you choose him again during this time with a new plan in mind.

“So we can meet again like we always did, right?” He whispers quietly against your lips when you both pull away slowly as your eyes flutter open to look into his own.

You nod in response with the adrenaline from the kiss still makes you dizzy in your mind as you clung onto his arms tightly. He gives you a small smile as he places one more peck against your lips and moves his hands down to where you were still gripping onto him as he took your hands before warming them up with some newfound hand warmers that he had in his pocket.

“Then I love you too, Y/N. For every time that it snows in the spring, and for every day after that, because I’m not letting you slip past my fingers this time.”

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Fangs//i bet you're real sweet with her

Request: You my friend are the queeen 👑 of songfics. Any chance you would want to write a fic for the song Bitter by Fletcher? With any of my boys Malachai/Reggie/Fangs/Pea you can choose 😘

hey! brit! @wayward-river this is for you, my love! enjoy! also, this is the last request i have! i did it!! well done me!! requests will be open soon, so keep your eyes peeled! 

The world may have moved on and evolved, but when you’re stuck in Riverdale, it feels like you’re still in the same unknown decade, no matter how long you stay for. 

Four years after graduation, you’re still waiting tables at Pop’s, despite the rest of your friends moving on. The only people left behind is you, Toni, Sweet Pea and Fangs. But what was once known the four musketeers, now has a huge divide between them. 

You still talk to Toni, but she talks more with Fangs. You and Fangs don’t talk to each other anymore due to a very messy ending of an almost six year relationship. Sweet Pea and Fangs only really talk to each other when they have to. Sweet Pea’s pissed because of what Fangs did to you, despite you telling him that you don’t want to be the reason they fall out, but he still sticks by your side. And Fangs is pissed at him for taking your side. 

Toni and Sweet Pea are still close but not as much as they used to be. The only plus side is the fact that you and Sweet Pea are closer than before, but that comes at a cost, because he’s stuck in between the messiest breakup in Riverdale history, and there’s nothing he can really do except sit and listen to you complain. 

Not that he minds though, as long as you keep giving him secret staff discount on his food, he’s fine listening to you mope about Fangs. 

“I just-” You sigh, your head dropping to rest on the table. The clock ticks above you and you can feel some of the other waitresses glaring at you, as they will time to move quicker so they can have their own breaks. “Do you know when you’re on the outside of an inside joke? And everyone else knows it but you have no idea what they’re talking about and it makes you feel really lonely.” 

“Lime.” He chuckles and you stare at him confused. “Sorry, you weren’t there.” 

“That doesn’t help Sweet Pea.” You slump in the stool and stare out of the coffee machine.

In the reflection you see a group of teenagers sat at the far end of the diner and you’re taken back to when that used to be you. You and the rest of the serpents would sit for hours, just talking and eating. Now those days are far gone, the only time you would ever be in the same place as Fangs would be to fight him. 

“Hey. Sorry to interrupt.” An older woman invades your thoughts and casts a shadow over you. You pull your gaze away from the shiny metal and stare up at her. “I really wanted Coke but you guys only seem to have Pepsi.” 

“I’m on my break sorry.” You force a smile. The rehearsed customer service voice coming out naturally. “But I’m sure one of my colleagues would be more than happy to help.” You add and point to the various members of staff trying to look busy. You glare at the newest member, Emma, who has the coldest eyes and fakest smile you have ever seen. She’s been a pain in your ass since she got here, and she hasn’t stopped since. You’re just hoping the new girl starting today is going to be a lot nicer. 

“Ughhh.” You groan and lean your head on the counter again. “I just remembered I’m training a new girl today.” 

“I thought you’d just done that.” 

“I have.” You grumble and look up at him. “But because I’m the most experienced member of staff, apparently it’s also my job to make sure they don’t put tea in the coffee machine and to keep the condiments separate.” You add and fiddle with the salt packet lying in front of you. 

“Well, I’m gonna be here for a little bit longer. I don’t start till three, so I can keep you company.” 

“Thanks.” You smile. “Where are you going today?” 

“Just to Greendale and back.” 

“Come round when you finish...we can drink what will be left of the night away.” 

“Deal.” He smiles and grabs your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Sweet Pea’s phone lights up beside you and you peer over his arm to see who it is. 

“Don’t bother.” You say when he reaches for it. “It’s just your mom.” You add when he looks at you confused and his face soon falls. 

“Oh.” He grumbles. “I told her to leave me alone.” 

“I’m sure she’ll get the message soon.” You try your best to sound convincing. But you’ve been repeating that sentence for seven years and she still doesn’t seem to get it. No matter how many times Sweet Pea tells her that he’s better off without her. 

For a while you thought it had worked. Nobody had heard from her in almost 6 months, but then she popped back up and ruined the progress that Sweet Pea had been making of having a stable life. 

“And if not. I’ll make sure she does.” You add making him snort a laugh. A soft smile twitches at your own lips as you watch him laugh and then shove a few fries in his mouth. Your hand reaches out to steal some but he catches it and shoves you away making you pout. “Hey! Technically I paid for those. The least you can do is share.” 

“What?” He asks through a mouthful of food and you pull a face. “I can’t hear you over the chewing.” He adds and shoves the rest of them in his mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” You shake you head making him laugh loudly. For a good minute, everything feels normal. It feels like you’re just sat with your friend and praying for time to slow down so you don’t have to go back to work. 

But eventually time does catch up with you, and as soon as the clock strikes quarter past you have to haul yourself back up, grab your rag and get on. The song on the jukebox flips and you’re suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. 

The opening notes float through the air, and all of sudden you can see you and Fangs dancing right in front of you. 

3am in December during a snowstorm. The worst Riverdale had seen for years and the two of you were hiding in the warmth of Pop’s until it went away. You were the only ones in and so Fangs decided to make the most out of the empty diner, and the two of you danced stupidity around the entire place, much to the amusement of the very bored and very tired workers. 

Tears spring to your eyes and you let out a shaky breath before fiddling with your fingers. 

“Y/n?” Sweet Pea asks. “You okay?” You nod and Sweet Pea stares back at you. Your shiny eyes and wobbly lip really doesn’t help your case of ‘i’m over it!’, but for now he decides to leave it. In the three months since you broke up, you’ve already cried more times than he can count, and that’s just at work. He doesn’t want to see you cry again. If he had his way, you’d never cry again. Not ever. 

“I’m fine. I know you think I’m stupid but it’s just how I feel.” You shrug and his expression softens. He grabs your hand, stopping you from walking away and you look at your intwined fingers. 

“I have never once thought you were stupid.” He says seriously and you swallow thickly. “Well, apart from the time I dared you to steal FP’s bike and you actually did it.” He adds, the atmosphere being too serious for the two of you. 

“I never got caught though.” You point your pen at him, a smile curling the corners of your lips and Sweet Pea smiles back at you. 

“It was still stupid.” He replies and you roll your eyes. 

“Hey, Pea?” You ask. “Do you know if Fangs is with anybody. I just, I can’t shake the feeling that somebody else is in my shoes right now. You know, doing all of the stuff we used to do.”  

“I don’t think so.” He shrugs and you nod slowly. 

“Good.” You nod and hold your head higher. “I’m the best he’s ever going to have anyway.” You add making him chuckle. 

“Very true.” He laughs. “Y/n? Do you think you might be-I dunno, maybe just a bit bi-” 

“I’m not bitter.” You defend and he sends you a look. 

“Sure you’re not.” He sips his coffee. “You are dressed in yellow though. And what fruit is yellow?” 

“A le-” 

“A lemon!” He interrupts, a stupid grin taking over his expression as waits for you to answer. 

“Okay.” You nod and grab your notepad from the table. “I’m walking away now. There you go Emma, you can sneak out the back to text a man that is definitely not your husband. 

“Oh, hi.” Someone taps your shoulder as you’re walking away making you quickly spin around. The girls almost walks into you and a string of apologies fall from her mouth as she quickly looks around to make sure no one saw. 

Her brown hair stops at her waist and curls a little bit near the end. Her bright blue eyes sparkle under the florescent lighting, and her pink lips curl into a nervous smile as she looks around. You glance at Sweet Pea and roll your eyes when you see him not so subtly checking her out. 

“Can I help?” You ask and she quickly looks back at you, a bright red blush creeping up her cheeks. 

“Yes. Hi, sorry. I’m Olivia. I start today.” She says and sticks her hand out in front of you. You shake it and send a glare to Sweet Pea who is still checking her out and he rolls his eyes at you before scrolling through his phone. 

“Lovely to meet you Olivia.” You smile. “Follow me and I’ll show you the ropes.” 

“I would so not mind seeing either of you with ropes.” Sweet Pea mumbles and you grit your teeth. 

“Would you excuse me for just a second?” She nods, eyes wide as she watches you slap Sweet Pea over the head with the rag. He jumps and yelps from the sudden attack before rubbing his head and scowling at you. “Okay, where were we?” You ask, a smile returning to her lips as she just stares at you in disbelief. “It’s fine. We’re friends.” You shrug and walk her to the counter. 

“It doesn’t make it okay!” Sweet Pea shouts. 

“Do you want your bill yet...your full one?” You add and he slumps back in his seat, his arms crossed in defeat. 

“Okay, so do you have any waitressing experience?” 

“Yes!” She smiles. “I used to work in a diner like this one back in New York.” She says and your eyes widen at the mention of New York.

“Oh, so you’re an out of towner?” You ask while showing her around. “This is the kitchen. Basically you get an order, you clip it on there and then the food will come through here. The only time we ever really need to go into the kitchen is if there is a mistake or it’s your turn to put the bins out. There’s a rota in the office but I’ll show you that later.” 

“Got it.” She nods. “Yeah. I moved here a few months ago. I’ve been trying to find a job since I moved but there’s only so much you can do in a small town.” She explains and you nod knowingly. 

“Why would you ever leave New York for Riverdale. Did you get lost or something?” You tease and she rolls her eyes playfully. 

“No.” She shakes her head. “I came here just as a little break to get away from the city, and then I met a guy and I haven’t been back.” She says and your eyes widen. 

“You stayed for a boy?” You ask in disbelief and she nods, with an embarrassed smile. “Wow.” You add. “This is the main eating area as you can see. We all have our sections, again, the rota, but you’ll be paired with me for today so you won’t need to know where you are until your next shift. And be warned, if you see him-” You point at Sweet Pea and he waves in return. “Ignore everything he says.” You finish and his face falls. 

“I’m gonna stop keeping you company if you’re not careful.” He huffs and you roll your eyes. 

“How else are you going to spend your free time if not here?” He shrugs and spins around the chair. When you had more friends, you used to need a booth to fit all of you in and even then you had to steal chairs from other tables. Now Sweet Pea just sits on the stools by the till so he can chat to you. 

Sometimes when it’s late and you’re nearing the end of a long shift, you’re sure you can see the ghosts of past versions of yourselves sat in the corner booth. Their laugher filling the air and reminding you of a happier time. 

“You guys are a cute couple.” Olivia coos and you and Sweet Pea stare at each other in disgust. 

“We are not a couple.” You say quickly and distance yourself away from him. 

“You would be lucky to be called my girlfriend.” He says and making you laugh. 

“Yeah, I’m really missing out.” You reply. “We’re not a couple.” You repeat, looking at Olivia this time and she nods while trying to suppress a smile. 

“Got it. Not a couple.” 

“Anyway, tell us about this man that seemingly turned your world upside down.”  

“He’s amazing!” She starts and you suddenly start to regret asking. This is definitely not going to help the ever growing feeling that you’re going to be alone forever. “He recently got a new job as a truck driver. At the minute he’s just doing to make some money, but it’s not what he wants to do. And he got a new little flat with his friend and it’s great. He’s an amazing cook...like the best. And he’s so handsome. Sometimes I look at him and I seriously wonder if he was crafted by God himself. He is that good, he has made me believe in God.”

“...wow.” You choke a little. 

“Yeah...wow.” Sweet Pea adds and the two of you share an impressed look. She chuckles shyly and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“He sounds sweet.” You smile and a blush creeps up her neck as she fiddles with her apron. “Who is he? Maybe I know him.” 

“Fangs. Fangs Fogarty.” She replies and your jaw drops. The cup in your hand wobbles and you scramble to catch it before it smashes on the floor. Olivia quickly moves forward to help you, but you stand up before she has the chance and she’s left awkwardly standing just a bit too close to you. 

Sweet Pea coughs and coffee dribbles down his chin, making both of you look at him and he forces a smile until Olivia is called away. You and Sweet Pea stare at each other for a few seconds, your eyes wide and jaws slack and then you both start an incoherent flow of words as you try and figure out what the hell is going on. 

“I thought you said Fangs wasn’t seeing anyone!” You start and slap him over the head with your rag again. He ducks and catches it, but his face crinkles when he comes in to contact with the soggy fabric and he quickly drops it. 

“He said he wasn’t!” He argues. “I asked him the other day if he was seeing anyone and he said no. It’s not my fault he lied.” He adds and you huff at him, crossing your arms while staring at the door. 

From your peripheral, you watch him roll his eyes and sigh before mumbling a quiet sorry. 

“It’s fine.” You sigh. “It’s not your fault.” The two of you watch her make her wander around the restaurant and talking to a few of the other servers, the smile never leaving her lips and a scowl slowly makes its way onto your own. “If I were her I would start packing my bags already because we all know Fangs does not do commitment. It doesn’t matter if its two months or six years, one day he will just up and leave, turning your whole life upside down because he’s a selfish di-” 

“Okayyyy.” He says and grabs your arm pulling you over the counter. “Y/n, listen to me.” He grabs your cheeks. “You have got to pull yourself together. One. you are much hotter than her. Seriously, I only checked her out once and that was when she first got here. But I check you out literally every time you walk into a room.” 

“Than-” 

“Two. Now that it’s official that Fangs has moved on, it means that you can too and you don’t look like the bad person because he did it first. So Friday night, you’re going to get dressed up and then we’re gonna go to Greendale and go to that club, Brightstars and then you’re gonna get bu-” 

“You don’t need to finish that sentence.” You reply and he nods proudly before letting go. You drop back onto the floor and smooth your uniform out. 

It’s fine, you got this. You can be the bigger person and you can put any petty differences aside for an easy working environment. Fangs has already ruined enough of your life, he doesn’t need to ruin this to. 

Apparently he does though, because not two seconds after you’ve had that life-altering thought, does he walk through the doors of Pop’s. The bell rings to announce his presence and everyone turns to look at him. 

Sweet Pea buries his head in a menu, despite having already eaten. You frantically look around the place to try and find somewhere to hide, but instead you just watch as Olivia’s face lights up as she greets her boyfriend. The two of them kiss, his hands grip her waist and there is far too much tongue involved to be doing it in public. 

Before you can stop yourself, a disgusted expression has already settled on your face and when Olivia turns around to introduce you to him, you try your best to smile through it. 

“Do you guys know each other?” She asks while leading him over to the counter. Sweet Pea shuffles further away and grabs another menu to cover his face. You mumble a few curse words at him and vow than the next break you’re not just going to hit him with the rag, you’re going to choke him with it before you muster the politest smile you possibly can. 

“Yeah. We went to school together!” You say before Fangs can say anything. He looks at you surprised and you narrow your eyes at him before looking back at Olivia. “We all did. Didn’t we Pea.” You add and snatch the menu’s from him. 

He sits up straighter, forcing an awkward smile before nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, we-er. We used to hang out.” He adds and Olivia looks at Fangs surprised. 

“You never mentioned a Y/n and a-” 

“Sweet Pea.” He says and you grab the empty plate and glass from in front of him. 

“Wait, is it because they’re friends with that crazy ex you told me about?” She wonders and you freeze. You raise an eyebrow at him and he gulps. “Fangs used to date this girl and they were together for a really long time, but then he broke up with her because well, I guess he just wanted other things. She was crying and begging him to stay and it was a whole mess. Funny story we met when he was throwing away all her old furniture. I asked him what the smoke was about and he told me he was just burning some bad memories.” She laughs and the glass breaks under your grip. The noise causes you all to jump and suddenly it’s all too much. 

Tears spring to your eyes and you quickly dump the apron on the counter. 

“I’m gonna go clean this, can you cover for me Pea?” You ask and he stands, his face full of concern as he watches you disappear out the back. 

Olivia grabs a dustpan and brush and starts cleaning up while Fangs just stares at the floor. Guilt burrows further into his chest as he stares at the broken glass and his new girlfriend cleaning it up. 

“I didn’t mean to upset her.” She says. “Where they friends or something?” She asks and Sweet Pea shrugs. 

“Yeah, something like that.” He sends Fangs a glare. 

“I’ll go see if she’s okay.” He says suddenly and Sweet Pea’s glare only worsens. 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” He asks. 

“Nope.” He takes a deep breath before following you through the kitchen and into the office. The door swings open and you sigh, too busy trying to pick glass from your hand to look up at it. 

“I’m fine Sweet Pea. Could you just pass me the first aid box?” 

“Here.” Fangs says and you quickly look up, your eyes widen at the dark haired boy standing in front of you. They soon darken once you snatch the box from him and place it on the desk. 

“What do you want Fangs?” 

“I’m sorry.” He kneels in front of you, forcing you to look at him. The already small office feels suddenly a lot smaller once you look into his eyes and suddenly you feel like you can’t breathe. 

“For what? For breaking my heart, betraying my trust or for telling your new girlfriend, which you found after just a month, that I’m somehow the bad guy in this story?”

“Ye-” 

“You know what Fangs.” You stand and slam the box on the table. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear about you or your new life or how sorry you are. I don’t give a fuck.” You shout and back him into a corner. 

His eyes drop to your lips and your breath hitches under his stare. Was he really thinking about kissing you after everything? But even worse, were you really thinking about letting him? His hands grip your hips, pulling you even closer to him and your lips ghost over his own. 

“Do you think about me when you kiss her?” You whisper in his ear and he nods slowly. “Do you think she can taste me when you kiss her?” You add and his eyes flutter closed. The grip on your hips tighten and he leans in, but the door swings open and he quickly jumps away from you. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” Olivia apologises awkwardly. “Are you guys okay?” 

“Just arguing.” You reply and force a smile. “We’re good now though aren’t we Fangs?” 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Just fine.” 

“Come on Olivia. Tell your boyfriend to get out because we have work to do.” You say and smile at the two of them. They share a look and a short kiss before Fangs disappears back through the kitchen. 

You follow closely and watch from the kitchen door as he looks back one last time before leaving. Olivia forces a tight lipped smile at you before busying herself with cleaning some of the booths down. 

“Sweet Pea?” You ask and he hums in reply. “You’re right...I am bitter.” 

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the one. | knj

“Do you remember the last time we danced?”

“Your parents’ anniversary.  They were playing ‘She’s Always a Woman’ - I was singing along and you were laughing at me.  You left for London the next day.”

“You were meant to follow me.”

masterlist | playlist

→ Namjoon x Reader

→ w/c: 2.1k

→ exes to lovers

→ no warnings, just a little bit of angst I guess

→  a/n: did i proof read this? who’s to say.

You’re swaying on the dancefloor of your best friends' wedding, in the arms of a man you never thought you’d see again.  Jimin is making very exaggerated eye contact with you over Yoongi’s shoulder.  You break it first, closing your eyes and breathing in Namjoon.  Even after all these years he still smells the same.  It’s fresh, comforting.  Nostalgia washes over you.

“Do you remember the last time we danced?”

Namjoon doesn’t reply for a moment.  You wonder if he heard you.  Then you wonder if you want him to.

“Your parents’ anniversary.  They were playing ‘She’s Always a Woman’ - I was singing along and you were laughing at me.  You left for London the next day.”

Once upon a time you knew Namjoon better than yourself.  Every little tick of his jaw or lilt in his voice was a language only you understood.  But those are muscles you haven’t exercised in a long time.  They’ve atrophied.  Now you’re standing here head on the shoulder of man who has become a stranger, unable to decipher if it was bitterness, sadness or regret colouring those last words.  You don’t know if you want to know.  Rolling you lips between your teeth you hesitate before replying;

“You were meant to follow me.”

You feel like an idiot, dredging up the past like this.  But your self control has never been stellar when it comes to him.

“You said you wanted space.”  This time his reply is instant.  You’re ricocheted back to being nineteen and falling in love with a boy whose brain worked as fast as yours.  Evenings present jumping off each other’s words, finishing the other’s sentences, leaving your friends in the dust.  Things just made sense with Namjon there, knowing how your thoughts ended before you did.  Explosive arguments where both of you were ready to rebut before the other had finished speaking.

“I didn’t mean forever,” you say in a small, disgustingly vulnerable voice.  Namjoon stills for a second.  He breathes your name.  You’re unsure whether it’s a warning or a prayer.  It’s so familiar and sends a bolt straight to your heart.  Taking a deep breath you step back, out of his arms.  His beautiful face, which has never stopped haunting you, is marred by crumpled confusion.  You won’t ruin Jimin and Yoongi’s night by having this conversation here, with an audience.  Seeming to understand, Namjoon takes the hand you offer, allowing you to lead him away.

There’s a bench in the gardens outside the reception hall, that’s where you take him.  It’s mid July.  Heat is lingering in the air.  The sun is only beginning to set, colouring the world pink and golden.  The two of you sit.  There’s enough space for two between you.  As has always been your fashion, you speak first.

“Why didn’t you come?”

Once again Namjoon hesitates, running a hand over his face to buy himself sometime.

“You were doing so well, I didn’t want to distract you,” he says eventually.

“So you let us die?”

“That was a two person job.”  

It comes out sharply but Namjoon doesn’t shy away from it.  He’s right, of course.  You also stopped replying to texts, started forgetting to call.  You moved on first, throwing yourself into a new life like the old one never happened.  You woke up in a stranger’s bed and finally deleted his number.  You’re just as responsible.

You think about how this looks from afar.  Seeing two college sweethearts as far from each other now as they were with the world between them.  You see the cracks that were always there.  The fast words that you held up as a sign of fate were actually a result of no one listening.  The competition.  The fights that could last days because you were both so stubborn.  You wonder if things were ever as good as you’ve told yourself they were.  And you’re still selfish - you always have been.  Selfish for always keeping him burning in your heart, always leaving an escape route just in case he called.  Selfish for opening this door, one you should have locked five years ago when he never bought that airplane ticket.  You shouldn’t have opened this can of worms.  Now it’s sitting in between the two of you, spoiling.  But he’s the one that asked you to dance.

“Are you happy,” you ask, breaking the thick silence.  How rare that was between you, there were always so many words floating around.

“Most of the time.  Are you?”

“I think so.  I have a dog, and I grow herbs on my balcony.

“Yeah?”

You know he’s thinking of how close that is to the plan.  How you used to lie on his bed, naked but for the necklace he gave you for your one year anniversary, staring at the ceiling and the two of you would work out exactly how your lives were going to go.  You’d spend your twenties hustling.  Making names for yourselves while living in a shoebox apartment in the city and growing a garden on the balcony because Namjoon thinks better when surrounded by green.  At some point you’d get a dog.  A small, lazy thing that’s content with spending most of the day inside while the two of you work.  One day, when you’re both stable and confident he’d take you back to your university.  He’d show you a road map of your relationship.  It would end with him on one knee asking a question you’ve both known the answer to for years.  It’s a beautiful picture.  One you destroyed.

“Yeah, at first I couldn’t keep a plant alive for the life of me -” a hollow laugh leaves Namjoon, he is well aware of your struggle with horticulture “- but I’m managing now.  Tam likes sunbathing next to them.”

“Tam? Like -”

“Yeah.”

Tam as in River and Simon from Firefly.  Just after you’d started dating Namjoon got you to watch the show with him, he’d watched it so many times by then but he convinced you to join him on his new rewatch.  You’d loved it, making him laugh as you rocked out to the theme song and got far too invested in this show that got cancelled before it could really start.

“I have your book.  I’ve read it like five times, it’s amazing.”

“Really?”  His eyebrows would raise to his hairline if they could.  But there’s a shy smile on his face.  He rubs the back of his neck, that familiar nervous tick as he continues at your flustered nod. “I, uh, I didn’t think you’d read it…”

“Of course I read it.  I couldn’t read the first draft and not the finished product.”

“It was always your story anyway.”

Your eyes bore into each other.  There’s a lump in your throat that you’ve come to associate with the dark nights where you lie alone in bed, wishing you could reach out and find him there.  How can you be so close to a person and miss them so terribly?  How can you love a person so much and still fall apart?  Awful thoughts for a wedding but here you are.  The silence is heavy, the weight of so much left unsaid suddenly hangs between you, dredged up by the book that once belonged to both of you but is now solely his.  You don’t begrudge him it - you were a muse and editor, not a writer - in fact you are so unendingly proud of him.  But seeing your soul on shelves, bestseller lists and in your mother’s hands when you went home for Christmas was an experience.  It didn’t help the longing you’ve never truly been able to escape.

“I wanted to marry you,” Namjoon says, breaking the silence as he twists to fully face you.  He’s devastating like this; so open, a supplicating hand reaching out towards you.  You just stare at him, wide-eyed.  Why is he saying this now?  “Before you got the London job I was going to it.  But I couldn’t hold you back from your dream.”

You wonder which is more clear on your face.  The confusion or sadness.  If he’d asked you have said yes.  You would have cancelled London because he was more important to you than a dream that you could still follow at home.  Or you wouldn’t have asked for space.  And you have walked into this wedding with him beside you.  The only reunion tonight would have been when you come back after popping to the bathroom.  It would have been a beautiful life.  You can feel the tears threatening in your eyes, joining that lump in your throat that you can barely breathe past.  You take his hand.  He takes a deep breath, hesitating for a moment.  But then he loves down at your joined hands and it seems to give him some sort of resolve.

“I came to this wedding for you.  I love Chim and Yoon but when I heard that you were part of their wedding party I knew I had to clear my calendar.  I saw, laughing with Tae and JK when I walked in and I was a kid again, blown away by this beautiful girl in my lit seminar that showed me up.”

A tear strangled laugh falls from you.  The first time you two had sex you’d asked him after when he caught feelings.  You were both sweaty and naked, intertwined on the single bed in his dorm.  That’s what he’d said.  You’d gone toe to toe with him in your second seminar together and that’s when he knew you were it for him.  You laughed at him.  At eighteen you were not ready to be “it” for someone.  But you couldn’t ignore the warmth the idea put in your chest.  Namjoon had asked you the question in return.  You pretended to think for a moment - in all honesty you knew instantly.  You see the moment in your mind as clearly now as you did then.  It was a Tuesday night in the library, you had an essay due at midnight, you and Namjoon had spent the day at the same table in the library.  He bought you a coffee and placed it down beside your laptop on the desk without saying a thing.  It was exactly how you liked it.  You felt understood, seen.  Who doesn’t catch feelings after that?

You scoot closer to him.  Namjoon’s hand comes up to cup your cheeks.  You lean into his touch.  Dancing with him reminded you of how good it felt to be held by him.  You can’t help but seek it out.

“I have thought of you everyday.  When I decided to come to this wedding I wondered if seeing you would be like seeing a stranger.  I didn’t know which would be worse, recognising you or not.  But it didn’t matter, because you’re still you and I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.”

“Namjoon…” you breathe.  He’s a poet.  It’s hard not to fall into him and his words.  Your heart aches for him but the last five years have made you cautious. “I’m not the girl you fell in love with anymore, and you’re not the boy I did.  We changed, we don’t even -”

“I’m not asking us to be the same.  God knows we had our problems.  I see you now, a woman I have spent five years listening to Jimin sing the praises of, and I think we could be better.  We weren’t ready before.  But we’re better now, we can love each other better.  Y/N, if soulmates are real then you are mine.  Can’t we try again?”

It’s a good speech.  For a moment you wonder whether he rehearsed it in his hotel room this morning.  You know your answer.  You’ve known it in your soul since he appeared in front of you, asking you to dance.  Maybe even longer.  At least since he walked into the ballroom where the ceremony was held.  Or when you were drunk in Jimin and Yoongi’s living room after breaking off your engagement to another man and all you wanted to do was call Namjoon.  Perhaps even as you sat in the airport lounge five years ago and wished he’d come running up to like this was some kind of rom-com.  You’ve always known that if Namjoon asked you would be his again, in less than a heartbeat.  

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.  Namjoon’s eyes widen.

“For real?”

“Yeah, for real.”  

A tiny teasing smile makes its way onto your face.  It is quickly wiped off as Namjoon pulls you into a soft, reverent kiss.  It’s quick, but perfect.  You see the dopey smile on his face as he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours.

“God, I missed kissing you,” he breathes.