jeanjellybean

[the-holy-ghosted]

healing is possible just letting you know. btw. its real

[beehunterkisser]

Have you watched the season 2 premieres of Hamster and Gretel?

I HAVE!!! Im assuming you want to know what i thought of em so spoiler warning for any dwampyheads who havent watched it yet. LOOK OUT!!!! also this is long as hell so be careful

Hakuna Ma Kevin

ok first and foremost. the ANIMATION WAS INCREDIBLE I WAS SO SHOCKED.. The budget mustve been crazy everything was so smooth. It really impressed me.. especially the action scenes and the hair movements. it was all super good

his va did a great job of being like annoyingly calm. its so kevin to somehow take a relaxation camp way too seriously (also the fact his life was so ruined by his date with hiromi flopping that he had to go on a 2 week retreat to find inner peace).

i was actually really interested in how they were gonna tackle that but a timeskip makes sense.

skip past kevins initial extreme misery and leave it up for the audience to make up. i am still curious as to what his friendgroup looks like because. did thjey stop hanging out. ARE hiromi and kevin too awkward to see eachother. anthony and fred are children of divorce. its so sad. well we'll see what happened eventually

It was great to see veronica hill back again too i missed my queen. i hope she finds love on the open sea.

actually speaking of that i was so sure that that was gonna be the boat from that sinking feeling and it was going to change the trajectory of the dwampyverse timeline forever but i think that was just a tease or a really really vague reference

the villain was also incredibly funny. great voicework too im sure it was some guest voice or something that i just dont recognize because it just feels that way to me.

great guy hope he comes back. and the reocurring THERE ARE NO LAWS ON INTERATIONAL WATERS BABY was actually funny.

also i cant not mention the CANON DWAMPYVERSE LESBIANS were BACK BABY women FIND EACHOTHER AT CLAM FEASTS ITS REAL AND TRUE.

it really made me happy to see that especially since i was so positive that we werent gonne get any rep from dwampyverse but obviously im WRONG and there are 2 beautiful women loving eachother and eating clams out there.

he played it so cool too. an ally.

I was almost disappointed the song was so early because i wanted a dramatic clam musical number but thats literally minimal complaint i have about that episode because it was such a strong opener.

also congrats to the newlyweds lunchlady and piano key vendor i think they will have a long lasting and beautiful relationship.

also when i saw those 2 old man leaving i was like wow are we getting a double whammy with gays but that was just a cameo. next time though

The Great American Telenovella

THE RETURN OF MY QUEEN. the opening in the hospital made me think it was gonna go in a completely different direction.

Both of these episodes had the songs super early on interestingly enough. i didnt even realise the Fresas De Amor theme song was THE song of the episode. i thought it was just a jingle..

i was really happy that we got a carolina-centered (well a stretch but she was there a lot) episode. i really like her.

the animation was back to normal in this episode too which was a little sad and maybe skewed my opinion of the episode a little bit but not TOO much. i think.

despite being tricked on where the episode was going the gimmick with making fun of telenovella tropes was really really fun.

it felt almost like a rarity investigates type thing where they get really into character trope LOL

the first lady they interrogated (THE VILLAIN IS THE VILLAIN!!) had such a great design too i really like her.. the whole bit with her abandoning the show to become a taco crunchies commercial star was great too she gagged me.

and also her being like ok ill just sit here and watch all my personal belongings burn. I giggled..i cant lie..i did giggle a little...

ok i cannot dance around it any longer but THE RETURN OF LA CEBOLLA. I REALLY DIDNT THINK ITD BE THIS EARLY I WAS SO HAPPY.

i saw her in the back as the lunchlady and i knew everything was going to be ok.. I was safe in her hands..

also her powers were used super clever i really enjoyed the Onion Fists. and also the dramatic shot of hamster getting concussed by an onion.

this kind of goes back to me being shocked the telenovella intro was the episodes song because i was really hoping we'd get another la cebolla number akin to fighting facial hair again

i also get another shot of her lying in a hospital bed. the one from her song is literally one of my favourite pictures ever so its great to have another equally as bizarre one

shes definitely maybe my FAVOURITE hng villain so it was great to see her again.

im biased so i wished she had gotten more time to shine but also i think that entire scene with hamster pretending to be her son la cebollito.

it was really funny karina did great with the line delivery there. i loved how she was like But why are you so small!??!?!?! i love that she runs on telenovella logic. a true method actor

i really did enjoy that episode but hakuna ma kevin really felt like the stronger episode to me maybe SOLEY because of the animation. im an artist im easily pleased. they cant just tease me with god tier animated hng and then rip it from my hands as soon as i get it. its ok...ill get over it..ill forget it soon... (single tear falls from my eye)

I HOPE THAT WAS READABLE i might do more of these for the rest of the episodes as they release its actually really fun. we;re so back. hng season 2 Is already peak. Its my favourite dwampy show for a reason. i am hng strongest warrior. WERE SO BACK

[voiceofsword]

every1 that voted rinne as worst husband is so wrong... its literally canon that he cares SO much and fakes his insane persona hes just awkward and embarassed when he gets noticed

i have so many things i can say about this but im really bad at words but theyre stewing around in my brain explodes

what were your thoughts?

i do agree with the ones that mention niki haha those are true rinne is absolutely smitten but the ones that say its like. because hes rinne amagi. and others thay were probably filtered out by the OP... people that either didnt read the main story or just dont want to look further lmao

(cracking my fingers) okay. this may or may not be long. i fear you have struck a bit of a nerve with this (NOT YOU but just as like. a general statement. i feel like u dont know what ur asking. but that is ok)

this whole thing might seem really aggressive at times bc this situation did get me a little heated... plz keep that in mind going in! AGAIN IM NOT ANGRY AT YOU ANON ILY AND THANK YOU FOR ASKING you just happened to ask abt smth i feel very sourly about – not the poll itself but the answers to it – but i tried to be as. tactful as i possibly can while talking abt this

overall im very disappointed in a lot of the answers given for the voting so ive stayed off twitter almost all day today and yesterday. i fear like with stuff like this a very silent population of eng side shines through, the one that specifically Doesnt actually engage with the story and goes off fanon interpretation. look, im not saying its necessarily a bad thing. but when it comes to stuff like this, where people grossly mischaracterize a grand majority of charas or narrow them down to be the butt of a joke, or use it as an excuse to be plain racist/ableist, i feel like people really need to reassess where all of this is coming from. like. not rinne, but KANAME couldnt even be included because the answers used for his votes were, in their majority, apparently ableist, and op (definitely in the right, i think this was the right choice to make) chose not to post at all because they feared the qrts would be just as bad. because for some reason people seem to think that because they're fictional characters that being ableist is somehow ok, that saying they would "pull the plug" on charas like him and eichi is fine because theyre not real people – as if there werent disabled or chronically ill people in this fandom, in every fandom, or hell, around you?

and lets not mention tatsumi and people blatantly misinterpreting his christianity as something he would force upon others – first of all, western christianity does not apply to tatsumi. at all. i understand that people might find it easy to just associate him with that and make "haha, he would make me convert" or "haha he would be a homophobe" quips, and obviously its not necessary to have extensive knowledge on kirishitan history in japan and how they are, to this day, a minority that was persecuted for a lot of japan's modern history. LIKE, EVEN FROM HIS DIALOGUE IN ANY STORY.. when has he given off that impression? cite your sources, he's literally one of the most inclusive and accepting charas in the whole cast! not a prejudiced white christian middle aged mom...

i think that if you absolutely must reduce a character to tasteless jokes, stereotypes that arent even funny to begin with, and you refuse to even read the source content at all to correct yourself, you really need to think about how you engage with any media, not just enstars. if you want to look at the pretty characters just say that! but dont be like this, and don’t speak on things you don’t fully understand as if you did just to make a point or be funny! 

OKAY RINNE SORRY LOL i hate it. i hated all of it and judging by the ratio many people seemed to dislike it as well (god bless!). if you havent seen it i wont link it bc tbf i dont feel like looking at it again (peace and love) but the answers summed up are like "oh he would steal my money" "hes selfish and would take stuff from me and not gaf about my wellbeing" "hes married to niki already" the last one being the only one i agree with. and it makes me think about a lot of issues with how a good portion of the fandom sees rinne. ive seen a lot of people read rinne in bad faith, regardless of whether theyve read main story, hot limit or any story rinne is in. and i dont get it, genuinely. YES he can be upsetting! he can be an asshole, he can be rude, he DOES steal money from niki! but these people neglect to see or mention that he gives it back and then some. they fail to talk about how he spends a lot of his time trying to make niki see his self worth!! since hiiro was BORN he's been trying to get him to understand that he's deserving of love!! that YES he can be a dick but ultimately treats crazy:b and his friends with love and wants what's best for them! these are the same ppl that think he's abusive or something idk i can only assume. like yeah rinne has a carefully crafted persona where hes a complete dickhead and ig some players cant really bother to see past that act

unfortunately rinne himself is built on a few harmful stereotypes of ainu culture irt the drinking, being portrayed or viewed as more 'uncouth' by other characters, etc which is why the initial more explicit ties to ainu culture were removed altogether from his and hiiros design and background. it is understandable, which is for example why it's not really my place to say whether he can be interpreted as ainu or not, and even so, i try not to rely on those aspects of him because it still veers into sensitive territory. and its an unfortunate part of his character, but undeniably, rinne amagi DOES drink, (he's one of the only characters in main cast of drinking age anyway) does partake in harmful behaviors, but fsr suddenly that means hes nothing but a drunkard, to a lot of people. when reading rinne you really have to take these things and ofc, consider that theyre relevant to his character, but it's not all there is...? in the slightest..? there used to be a tweet thread explaining this link further but it's either been taken down or the account has been locked. either way, just a bit of googling goes a long way. i'd rather not go into too much detail here because i don't feel informed enough beyond pointing these issues out, and i personally feel like it's not really my place. if anybody wants to add onto this post to cite more specific sources please feel free

he's such a fun loving, cunning, caring guy who helps people get jobs (dance of the white tiger), who volunteers to play with kids at a daycare (asobi), and wishes so badly to become an idol and grant everyone the same opportunities if theyd like to be, as well (main story, sudden death SUDDEN DEATH IS MY FAV STORY AFTER HL BUT THE TL IS DOWN....SORRY. but i really really think it's one of the most important ones when it comes to rinne's character and motivations. also if u can read it in app it's even better bc it's voiced and theres a line where he's like "oh this guy's [niki] is engaged to me" when talking to kohaku's sister AND HE SOUNDS FULLY SERIOUS TOO....)

don't get me started on people who dumb him down as if he wasn't one of the most clever characters in the game. and unknowingly, people that continue to make rinne's character out to simply be a gambling flirty drunkard who doesn't know how to control himself, as if there weren't other facets of him – they lean into stereotypes, bordering on racism, even if its not malicious or theyre not aware. and it makes me so sad. a lot of the time these interpretations are spread around and then liking characters like him becomes some sort of moral debate, esp in current fandom (which is one of the reasons i think this stereotyping? happens? b/c ive found that fandom sometimes has the tendency of grabbing characters and mischaracterizing them so BADLY that liking them makes you a bad person..? not necessarily villains either! i promise it's okay to just dislike characters without making stuff up!)

that aside also suggesting he'd be an awful, neglectful spouse is simply incorrect. i very firmly believe that if rinne is devoted, he will drop every vice, every pretense, to make the other person happy. he's Like That in the story and towards niki because they keep tiptoeing around the subject but the second he gets an inner monologue, or is truly being genuine, you can tell he would do anything for him, if niki would just let him. to say that rinne isn't capable of being a good partner because he'll treat you badly or not care about you just proves to me that you're not reading any scene he is actually in. if rinne loves you, romantic or not, he will go big or go home. read hot limit btw

im not about to pull the story caps out no wait yes i am lol rinniki4ever ✌️

these arent in order bc i had to scroll up like 2k pictures because i take caps of this game every time i blink. i was considering adding hiiro caps, to show his dedication to him as well, but given that this is for like a marriage poll id rather not. either way he cares about his family and loved ones a lot. read chapter 155 if you want to know the exact scene i was thinking about/referring to while typing this

um ok (breathes out) im fine now. theres things i didnt address because it's 1 am and i want to go to sleep. congrats kuro on getting #1 most marriageable tho u deserve it KURO NUMERO 1 CAMPEAO DO MUNDO 💯💯💯🔥

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

ok so here's my idea

czerny taps horns/antlers with ebenholz and its just a gay little thing they do.

and hibiscus sees it and goes "what was that"

and theyre both like.. "uh oh that? oh. thats embarassing. you werent supposed to see"

(I've actually had similar thoughts before about Ebenholz showing affection through little goat-headbutts...but this idea is super cute. Now you've gone and inspired a ficlet. I hope you're happy. XD)

As with most habits Czerny had picked up since joining Rhodes Island, this one was Ebenholz's fault.

Czerny had never been big on physical affection. Hands to himself, content to acknowledge others with a nod or even a half-bow, not too keen on unexpected contact with anyone. Ebenholz tried to carry himself in much the same way, was nothing but unfailingly polite, but it was clear to anyone who spent more than five minutes with him that the Caprinae was starved for touch and attention both.

The first time had caught Czerny off guard. He'd been working on a composition, practicing a progression so quick he had to play hand-over-hand to reach the notes in time, when he'd felt a solid tap against one of his antlers. He'd startled, wracking his brain over what he might've accidentally hit with them (it had taken quite some time to get used to most of the landship's doorways), only to find Ebenholz standing there.

"You've been here for hours now. It's dinner time. Up with you."

"Right. Did you...knock on my antler?"

"You didn't hear me the first time, but I also did not want to risk being smacked."

Czerny almost retaliated that he would never, but then again, he did once accidentally give Chiave a bloody nose after the man had unexpectedly slapped him on the back. That had been embarrassing enough, though it also somehow earned the so-called gang leader's respect. A confusing man, that one.

He'd thanked Ebenholz, and joined him for dinner in what quickly became routine. Seemed that wherever Czerny might end up, Ebenholz could always seek him out if needed, and would always catch his attention by tapping one of his horns to Czerny's antlers. It was reminiscent of the Caprinae and Elafia children back home, often headbutting each other to play or get attention from their parents. (Not that Czerny had ever done the same...much.) Perhaps such was a habit Ebenholz had never quite outgrown?

Still, Czerny didn't realize how routine it had become until one day when he was asked to grab Ebenholz from the trading post. The young man barked orders and verbally cut down traders who tried to swindle him with all the authority of a former Graf Urtica, and Czerny certainly didn't wish to throw him off. So he approached quietly, waited for an opportune moment, and leaned over to tap an antler against Ebenholz's horn.

The young man turned, and broke out into a grin that somehow made his entire ashen-pale face seem bright. "Ah, Czerny. Is my shift over already? Forgive me for losing track of the time...shall we get going, then?"

Something about that expression did a funny thing to Czerny's stomach. He must've been hungrier than he thought. Surely that was all. He shoved the idea that it might mean anything more so thoroughly out of his mind that he didn't think about it again until months later.

A combat mission had just wrapped up. Ebenholz had made it back to the transport first, sitting in a dark corner with his eyes shut to block out an oncoming headache. Czerny took the seat next to him, waiting a moment to announce his presence with a tap. Ebenholz glanced up at him from under his bangs and smiled.

Except this time, someone noticed. A someone called Hibiscus. "Oh, what was that? Some sort of Leithanien greeting?"

Czerny's eyes shot up to meet hers. She was smiling, but it was more than her usual peaceful grin. No, there was a spark behind this one. Sly, some might call it, as if "sly" and "Hibiscus" could ever be put in the same sentence together.

"It is..." Czerny found himself at a loss for words. What was this, really? It had long gone beyond a simple greeting, but he didn't have the words for what it had become. It was a way to say "I'm here" without words. A halfway point between needing to touch and not wanting to be touched at all. An assurance. Trust.

"It's just a little thing we do," Ebenholz answered, soft but with an air of finality that invites no further conversation on the matter. "Do not worry yourself overmuch about it, Fraulein."

"Right, of course. Well, if neither of you are hurt, I'll let you get to it." Hibiscus had the audacity to wink at them as she walked away. The duo waited until she was gone to look at each other and silently ask: what were they really doing? What was this thing between them, really?

They didn't answer aloud. Ebenholz inclined his head. Czerny tapped, antler to horn. The pair smiled and settled in for the ride back. And when Ebenholz leaned against him and closed his eyes, Czerny found he didn't mind that so much either.

[soo0mi]

When the sun hits .. — 14. so cute yet pathetic 🫶 (written / 1427 wrds)

warnings !! kys jokes, suggestive jokes, love 😂😂🔥

wordcount ‼️ 1.4k wrds / 1427 wrds

__incheon (22:34)

you were giggling your ass off, swinging your feet in the air, and twirling your hair. you look at the time, 22:40, he sent the message 6 minutes ago but luckily he lived 20 minutes away plus traffic. it was friday so everyone was heading back home to their families.

bzzz . a voicemail message appeared on your homescreen. you didnt realize that someone called you, you were trying to find a comfy outfit that won’t appear as you trying hard but still looking pretty. “ill be there in about 18 minutes, i didnt think the traffic was gonna be this bad, sorry.” he said through the phone, it sounded like he was pouting. cute..

it’s okay, don’t worry!! stay safe, don’t crash and die 🙏🔥— ( 22:44 ) you sent him a text message.

you search through your makeup bag looking for your black cherry lipgloss, blush, and mascara. you applied a cool toned blush, coated your lips with strawberry lip balm, layered it with the gloss, and finally put the mascara on to make an natural yet doll-ish look. you grabbed your favorite perfume, it had a surprisingly deep scent considering the light pink color. a heavy swirl of vanilla with a hint of black coffee.

ring ring .. your phone rang on the kitchen counter, “hey, im outside your door.” you rush over to the kitchen area, grabbing your bag and house keys, “alr, ill be there in a sec!” you look at the mirror beside your front door making sure you looked pretty, “okok, see you in a sec!” its pathetic how you were laughing at his lame joke, you grabbed your shoes and slipped them on.

you’d be lying if you said that you were nervous opening that door, your heart was beating as if it was trying to escape your chest. you take a deep breath and open the tall, dark brown door. not expecting to see his face so close to yours, your soul jumped out of your body.

“you okay?” he had a big teasing grin on his face, trying to stop himself from bursting out laughing.

“ahh, why were you so close to the door!! i thought you’d be at the first step, jeongin!” you cover your face with your hands, leaving spaces in between your fingers to uncover your eyes.

“HAHAHA,” his laugh was like sun on a rainy day, it was perfectly warm you couldnt help but laugh as well.

you were both out of breath after laughing, “lets go!!” you managed to say in between laughter and teary eyes. leading him to his car, you grabbed his arms and it felt so strong, you were almost blushing.

you both get in the maroon car, out of breath and teary eyed, “IT WASNT THAT FUNNY..” cooling your cold cheeks with your fingers, you fingers were warming up but your cheeks werent.

“c’monn, it was that funny” jeongin noticed you were struggling, he grabbed his hand warmers from his jacket and cups your face. you felt red, heart beating faster than a cheetah, “is that better?” he looks at you with the prettiest eyes ever, you were mesmerized.

���y—yeah..” you make contact with his dolly eyes and return it with your glossy eyes. “thank you..” suddenly feeling shy, you turn your gaze to the scenery beside you.

what the fuck is this feeling..?

__masian beach ( 23:18 )

The breeze waved against your skin, it was cold but there was a warm feeling inside of you. not knowing where it originated from, you ignored it. you turn your body towards him, “its so pretty!”

“right, the clouds are so pretty as well.” he was mesmerized by the view, his smile was one of happiness growing. you could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him, his voice was so relaxed, it was beautiful.

you turn your body back to the body of water, the murmuring of the waves was hypnotic yet peaceful. you could stay there forever without ever getting bored. you turned your head to get another glimpse of the pretty man behind you and to your surprise he was staring at you.

soo y/n who is effortlessly so beautiful. to jeongin, you were the view, you were the one who was worth suffering for. he was so deep in thought that he didnt feel your gaze.

you walk up to him as he keeps his gaze on you, still not realizing what you were doing. you lightly drag your fingertips over his arm, trying to build up some courage.

fuck it.. you place your arms over his shoulders and lean into his warmth, he smells like everything you’ve come to associate with safety and home.

jeongin was finally out of his trance, you felt his heartbeats get faster and faster. not knowing what to do with his arms, he places it on your waist. the butterflies inside you grew and intensified, your first romantic hug. you slide your hand down to his back, softly rubbing it and the other is playing with his hair. it was surprisingly soft considering how bleached it looked, his hair smelled like watermelons.

he places his head on your shoulder, he loved the coffee scent that you project.

__ansan (23:45)

on the drive back to his house, you two got to know each other. he told you about his past, his interests, and his hobbies as you also told him about yourself. opening up to each other felt like youve fallen for him again. you two sang your hearts out to your favorite songs and even had a duet.

you followed jeongin to the front door, his front yard was so unexpectedly pretty. it was full of grass and flowers.

“it’s pretty, huh?” he sounded so proud of himself

“very.” you say with a smile

“come on! ladies first” he opened his dark brown front door and reached put his hands for you to grab

of course, you werent going to refuse so you quickly grabbed it. you took a look inside of the house, still holding onto his hand. jeongin led you to his room, his wall mounted shelves were filled with legos. he had your dream legos on display, your eyes glowed when you saw the fender set.

“no fair, youre so cool jeongin” you exclaim

he giggles as he crashes on his bed, “alexa, play my playlist.”

playing: broken clocks — sza

while you two were chatting and building the mini lego sets jeongin had laying around, two cats that coincidentally looked like you two and miffy with a turtle, you both heard meows outside his bedroom door.

he walked up to his door and opened it, the grey kitty rushes to his bed and rests on his pillow beside you.

“nari, i was there first!” the kitty suddenly rests her head on your lap

“awwe, she likes me more than you!!” you giggle

jeongin walks back to his bed but further away from where he was before since it was occupied by nari. you two get back to building and talking.

playing: seesaw — o.o.o

the day passed by so quick, you two didnt even notice that it was midnight. you went downstairs to get water and some snacks but suddenly jeongin felt his eyelids get heavier by the minute.

you open the door with caution and saw him on the bed passed out beside nari. a picture wouldn’t hurt, right??

snap you couldn’t help it, the scene was adorable. you tried to get up to get the scissors from the desk but he had his arms around you, “don’t go ..” he says in his slumber.

you felt so red, it was insane. “okay then, i wont go” you whisper, “but im still hungry..”

the rest of the night was just you eating chips, scrolling on tiktok while jeongin’s hands were around you. you couldn’t focus at all.

playing: blue dreams — jhene aiko

you place your phone and the chips on the nightstand beside you, grabbed the led remote, and turned the light off. you laid your head down and faced him, your face was so close to his. he hugged you tighter, bringing you closer to his warm body.

at this moment, you felt so safe burried in his arms. you drift into a deep sleep as jeongin gently scratches your back.

i am still sleeping in my blue dream and i know the meaning for all the seasons you are the reason my love.

jhene aiko makes me feel so lonely omfg😞

prev. // m.list // next

[misterradio]

okay here are my renfield 2023 thoughts [peace sign] you have been spoiler warned.... and long-post-warned.....

okay first off this is the first movie i have watched in a theatre in years and it was really fun ::-) i do have a headache now though. there werent a lot of people in the theatre and apparently at some point someone came in just to have a muttered conversation in his phone and left? RUDE! also the seats were very comfy.

anyways here are some actual movie thoughts:

the set design and lighting was so cool ESPECIALLY for dracula's lair with the eerie lighting around the blood-bag throne. so cool!! i liked renfield's house which was very much the opposite where it was very colourful. him finding his own modern sense of style was a neat detail.

did not care for the cops. didnt even really care for the crime ring plot. actually i didnt really feel invested in any of the characters even though i feel i shouldve... i watched this movie bc i wanted to see how it went and that i did! i wish i could have had stronger positive feelings.

my brother said that it was a very "modern movie" and i have to agree... i've been watching a lot of various older movies in general, this one definitely had a very different vibe. maybe im just not familiar with the genre? it just had like... modern humour / sensibilities... i dont knoowwww

re; the last two points: a lot of this movie was focusing on analyzing renfield and draculas relationship, but it used very clinical language to describe everything, so it did a lot more talking about the idea of an abusive relationship than really making me feel like that's what was happening ??!?!??!!?? also they were really throwing the concept of narcisists under the bus.

i liked the music during the credits but i have to admit i didnt think about the music during the movie. the credits in general were also cool they had really neat visuals ::-)

F--K COPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! what else can i say.

one review i read said the gore was over the top and played for comedy aand they were RIGHT i was actually quite shocked at first how much gore there was. it wasnt even good most of the time but that was kind of making it funnier.

it was fun and good in a way that a lighthearted action comedy splatter movie would be good. do not expect emotional depth? (which seems like it wouldve been an important factor to get strong in this movie?) also remember this is following the concept of the 1931 movie not the book lol. i dont think you need to know either of them to enjoy this movie but the background knowledge is nice.

i wish i could see a dracula (book) adaptation where the characters are intact and also renfield is actually 59 years old... he is so young all the time please age this frickin guy

----------

le more thoughts i am adding on after thinkin on it more....

i didnt think of it while the movie was going but they never quoted dracula ever. bit sad. i would have been delighted by any book references (besides the obvious). the most they do is have a characters father be named 'morris quincy' (like quincy morris from the original novel).

how does dracula exist in this universe? ppl seem to acknowledge familiarity with him, but is it as a fictional character thru a book, or a mythological figure, etc..?

i said this in another post but, i would have liked to SEE renfields rocky relationship rather than having it be stated for the audience via narration... i also would love to know how renfield went from the wacky ~insane~ guy in the 1931 movie (which they acknowledge renfield in the asylum here!) to being a regular plain guy in the present. how did he change so much.... was he delusional or did dracula make his delusions real......

also tumblr was dropped by name. in this movie. and i have to say. it was actually funny.

they should have had nick cage look gorey and gross more often. i liked his look when he like had his skin on his face just barely on there. so cool.

[hanasnx]

Jealous ani has me going feRAL + thinking about if the roles were uni reversed lolz

Like at first he’d be confused as to why you wouldn’t reciprocate his affection after that one event and you’d make a grumpy comment about that one girl that made it very clear, how attractive she found him. He wouldn’t even really have registered her as you’d be the one and only he’d ever think of in that way (we love a loyal man). However all of a sudden it would click and ani would be like ‘oh!’ … ‘oh??’ and would let out a surprised laugh followed by a self satisfied/cocky grin. “How silly of you to even think that way” he’d say with a slightly condescending (but in a smexy way) tone. He’d tower over you and let his cold mechanic hand graze slightly over your lips and then put his thumb and index under you chin, guiding your embarrassed gaze to meet his sultry and all consuming one. “Just like you’re mine completely, I am yours, and although I think you’re very hot like this, I better remind you” “Can’t believe you’re enjoying this,” you’d half heartily huff.” “Can you blame me??” For once the roles being reversed. You’d want to utter a response but his lips would be on yours, needy and urgent, making everything else seem irrelevant. You’d tug on his hair, earning a surprised groan, needing him as close as humanly possible and he was more than happy to comply (Pls Bear with me, English is not my first language)

anon ur so right anakin is a loyal man to a fault. even at the times u didnt expect him to be loyal (like when the two of u were first going out) he would still be completely faithful.

i feel like anakin is demisexual like he can only like and find someone sexually appealing if he knows them. sometimes u forget that fact. that, paired with the way that woman not only shamelessly hit on anakin in front of you but undermined you while she did it. it was so subtle, anakin was clueless to it.

he would revel in this situation. because youre not easily jealous, she just happened to press the right buttons.

and the fact that anakin, as polite as he is in some social situation, played into her little game without realizing it. you were pissed off.

☥ she grabbed hold of his arm when he made her laugh— at a joke that was probably only funny if u wanted to sit on his face— and she was like “oh! general skywalker, you’re so big,” and squeeze “do you work out? what am i saying-? of course you do!” he would politely pull his bicep from her reach, and she wouldn’t notice he was uncomfortable

☥ “oh this war,” she muttered in disdain. turn it around on him, “do you have any time for yourself?”

anakin glanced at you. “oh, you know, we do alright.”

the woman, without looking at you and without missing a beat, “i’d make time for you.”

☥ you were in the middle of a sentence, and she interrupted you, “general skywalker, do you have any stories from your time on the battlefield?” her hand came to trace over the back of his metal hand— but since he doesnt have any fycking feeling in it he doesnt even notice— “i’m just dying to know!” you rolled your eyes

☥ you didn’t mean to get as worked up as you did. truly, you were usually so impartial. but she didn’t even acknowledge you. pretended you werent there. unless it was to make some sort of pass at you. and anakin? he just stood there! let it all happen! like he didnt even know what was going on. how could he not when that woman was being so obvious? (he had no idea)

in an effort to keep the peace, you held your tongue. inhaling through your flared nostrils.

“come now, my love, i’m ready to go home,” anakin stretched in his seat in the cruiser. when he leaned over to steal a kiss from you before he began the trip home, you inclined away. puzzled, he furrowed his eyebrows. “something the matter?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he tilted his head at you. “you can’t lie to me.”

“can we just go home? please? i don’t feel like being touched right now.”

☥ at home, you were silent. throwing off your clothes to change into clean ones. tossing whatever you could. slamming doors as you rushed through things. “you wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

“nothing! i’m fine.”

“you say that, but you’re doing all the things you do when you’re pissed off.”

“fine. fine! i am pissed. wanna tell me what you were doing letting that woman touch you?”

“the drunk one?” he was taken aback. he hadnt registered anything hideously inappropriate. besides his discomfort that he didnt voice in order to not make the woman uncomfortable.

“intoxicated or not, anakin, she was all over you and you were just eating it up!”

☥ that whole thing of “oh!… oh?” is so HIM kdjfkljs. “oh yeah?”

“yeah!”

“if i didn’t know any better, princess, i’d say you were a little envious.”

“that’s preposterous.”

that glint in his eyes would be so challenging.

☥ “tell me who i belong to,” he whispered, stars in his eyes as he pleasured you on his fingers. “tell me, my love.”

“me,” you choked out as he curled his digits against that perfect spot inside of you. “you belong to me,”

“that’s right. i’ve given myself to you completely,”

“well then don’t let other women touch you so carelessly.”

he snickered.

[clementinesjourney]

Record Shop Funk - Pt. 1 Like real people do

A.N. : Hey guys, so i had this idea yesterday, and i really hope you'll like it. <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Words: 1,9k

Pairing: camboy!Steve x Reader, roommate!Bucky x reader, Stucky x reader (as the story goes)

Warnings: nothing yet :)

Summary: Who knew that having a secret crush, then a hearbreak will end in such a sweet thing..

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Bucky shared an apartment above the recordshop you both worked in. Your aunt was the owner of both, so it was a fairly good payment, and a fairly good apartment for a cheap price. It was a bright and big apartment with two bedrooms, so your decided to rent it out, all while searching for a helper to the shop downstairs. When Bucky came in applying for the job, you asked out of joke if he needs a place to live since you had seen around 5 people already and none of them felt right. His eyes lit up as he said he is in fact looking for a place. Since he was fitting for a job, and looked like a decent guy, you congratulated him on his new job, and asked if he wants to see the place today. You still had one and a half hour to close, but after it you would gladly show him the apartment.

He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to it, feeling happy about having a job he might actually like and a coworker he might actually will get along with.

-Do you drink coffee? I was thinking of getting one in the meantime. My friend works close by, and they make the best coffee in town. - He asked.

-I could go for one thank you - you smiled at him - iced cold-brew, no sugar, i'm sweet enough.. - you said with a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back at the joke. When he arrived at the café, he saw his friend Steve flirting with a girl whom he could visibly see trembling just cause he talked to her. Steve always had his way with girls, ever since the serum of course. After he broke up with Peggy, it was mostly just hookups, never finding a girl worth keeping around. Not as if they werent kind, pretty or good to him, it just never felt right. Bucky smiled at his friend, Steve immediately shifted his gaze from the girl, to a very happy Bucky.

-Did you get the job?

-Better.. I got the job, and she has a room for rent which i'll see tonight.

-Wow Bucky, i didn't know you were even better then i am.. sooo how does she look? - asked Steve with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. He wanted Bucky to get a girl since ages and hearing this, his mind immediately ventured there.

-5'7, ginger, green eyes, freckles, curvy just the right places. why?

-Nothing Buck.. nothing.. - Steve said smirking at his friend.. Bucky never realized when he liked a girl, so he never really acted on it. He last had a woman back in the 40's.

-Sooo i know you didn't come to have chat with me, one black coffee and.. ?

-ah, iced cold-brew, no sugar..

After paying for the coffee, he hurried back to the shop, hoping to get to know his coworker a little bit better.

You thanked him for the coffee, and when you tried to pay, he refused.

-Next round's mine then. - You smiled at him with your 1000 watt smile, which again he couldn't help but smile back at.

-So tell me about you Bucky, what do you do in your freetime?

-Nothing really, just reading, spending time with my friends, kind of thats it.. I have a boring life really. What about you?

-Well, i work here, then i go home and listen to music, cook, god i love to cook, thats a big pro for the apartment.. just saying. - you said with a playful wink. - besides that nothing much. Sometimes i go to a nearby bar with my friends maybe concerts and thats it.

-I like washing dishes if that helps with the application for the room. - he said with a shy laugh which made your heart skip a beat.

- It sure does.. Do you leave your stuff around?

-No i'm a tidy person.. thank you very much. - he said cockily (just for the sake of being funny really).

-Okay okay, if you like it you can have the room, just promise to tell if you bring up a girl so i can leave. The walls are kind of thin.

-It's okay, i don't really...

-Oh um i'm sorry, i didn't meant to intrude, it just something i would really like everyone to add to their rental contracts. - you chuckled embarassed.

-Noo no, it's okay, i'm not embarassed by it. I guess i don't want hook ups, if one day there's someone i'll tell in advance.

-yea me too, i promise. If you end up renting it anyway haha. on that note it's time to close so i can show the room in a min.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you opened the door to the apartment Buckyquietly took in it all. It was really bright, white walls with paintings all over the walls, plants in every corner or shelf you can put one on, a comfy looking mustard couch, aztec-y rug under the coffeetable, and a wall fully shelved, filled with books and little trinkets, it looked like a home he never had a chance to have. The livingroom had an american kitchen on the side, island in the middle of the kitchen area, it was white, and blue which reminded him of greece, down the hallway you showed him the bathroom which of course had a lot of plants that liked the atmosphere of a bathroom, a shower in the corner and a bathtub under the window. You then showed the empty room he could rent out. It only had a shelf and a wardrobe, and a queen sized bed. No decorations, no signs of anybody ever living there. You then pointed to the room the opposit of what could possibly be Bucky's in the future, saying that is yours. You didn't show your room, he wasn't gonna go in there anyway, and showing your most private space on the first day didn't seem like a good idea either. You then invited him out to the balcony, watching the setting sun, smoking a cigarette.

-So thats about it, what do you think?

-I really like it, and i mean.. my workplace is pretty close so thats a plus, also you said something about cooking all the time.. sooo if it's alright with you i would love to rent it out.

-It's settled then roomie. I'll give you the keys, you can move in whenever you want to. Tomorrow we are closed, so maybe that would be ideal.

-Yea, then tomorrow it is then. I'll ask my friend to help, then we can maybe hang a bit if you're free.

-Sure, i have nothing planned, and it's good to know who i'll be living with. - you said with a smile.

Before closing the door, you said your goodbyes, and you realized what did you just do, after he wished you good night with a killer halfsmile that almost had your knees buckle. You just agreed to living together with possibly the most handsome man you've ever seen who is also your new coworker, so you will basically spend most of your time with him.. Guess we'll see how this goes you thought to yourself.

Morning came soon enough, you were sitting out on the balcony when you saw Bucky arrive with a very tall, just as handsome man, carrying boxes of books, and bags of clothing. Bucky looked up at the balcony, waving towards you, you waved back, then moved to open the front door before going back out to the balcony, resuming your coffee and smoke.

When they finished bringing all Bucky's stuff in, it was already midday, so you decided you'd order pizza for all of you, as in like a welcome present.

-Hey guys, i'm thinking of ordering pizza, what kind would you like?

-Oh (y/n) you don't have to. - said Bucky, earning a smirk from Steve as he looked back and forth between you two.

- Noo i insist, today won't be the day i'll start to slowly kill you with my cooking. - you said giggling a bit.

- Whatever's fine peach. - said Steve with a wink, that you decided was just out of friendlyness. You didn't veen knew his name, and he seemed like a lady's man anyways. Not really your type no matter how handsome and muscular he is.

- Steve, by the way, nice to meet you.

-(Y/n), likewise. - you shook his hand.

When the pizzas arrived you called them to the kitchen, listening to all their shared stories from their early years. They seemed like really close friends, and genuinely good people. You had a really great time. It was nearly 9 pm when Steve left, for saving a dame from dying cause of boredom he said. You and Bucky chuckled, then he let him out, closing the door, locking it for the night.

-I guess i have some packing to do, so.. good night (y/n).

-Good night Bucky, if you need anything just knock. - you said with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt at peace. He had Steve, now he had a job, and a room to make a home of, and you as a new addition. You were so kind, so eager to help if he needed anything, he loved how the scent of raspberries and flowers lingered in the apartment mixed with coffee and cigarette smoke. It seemed to have a calming effect on him.

You heard a soft knock half an hour later. WHen you opened the door you saw a smiling Bucky, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

- Hey, um.. sorry. I forgot i didn't bring a blanket, could i borrow one until i get my own?

-Yea sure, i'll get one in a min. - You said, leaving the door open, letting him see a bit of "you" while you were searching for your spare blanket in your wardrobe. The room really was you. White, with mustardy curtains on the window, plants everywhere, books piled up here and there, a really comfy looking bed, pictures of you and your friends on the walls. And damn, your room smelled even more like you. If he wouldn't pay attention your scent would lure him into your room and never let him leave he thought.

-There you go. - you handed him the blanket smiling.

-Thank you very much.

Then he stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of you in front of him. You were wearing an oversized tshirt, that ended just around the middle of your thighs, hair in a messy bun, no makeup. He could swear he thought you were pretty before, but seeing you as you were made him fancy you even more.

With a small smile you told him goodnight again, then closed the door in his face.

You could hear his little laugh on the other side of the door, then his door closing. For the first time in months he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and he didn't had a nightmare either. He was afraid he would, and then he would wake you up with his screaming, but looks like the blanket which smelled just like you calmed him enough.

After waking up because the rays of sunshine on his face, he smiled to himself guess i'll wait with getting my own blanket then...

[sailorhyunjinz]

HI BESTIE IMY HEBSBRBS AHH I’ve been so busy ... also recently got super sick and I’ve not been well at all ,, it’s just the flu / a stomach bug tho ! :,) hru ???

Your latest reaction was so good ,, thoughts r being thunk ?? Thinking about skz reaction to you rubbing / jerking their dicks just whenever you’re bored .. and you don’t even really notice that they’re getting off ahah IDK IT JUST SEEMS TO HOT ??

Once they cum or wtv you’re like ;) hsshbrbs

I have a dick but honestly it’s never bothered me reading ur shit directed towards a female reader ? For some reason I really like it bye 😭🤚

-🚬

BABYBOOOY WHY HAVE YOU BEEN SICK?!?! :((( Hope you’re feeling better now, i should give u some of my healing medicin aka my kisses :(( <33 

Also that last bit AAh thank u T-T i try to be more inclusive but like AAAGH im always so scared that i’ll mess something up from my lack of ~ knowledge ~ BUT I REALLY TRY MY BEST >< so thank uuu for having patience for my dumb ass

ANYWAYS SPEED REACTION LEGO 

warnings: skz x gn!reader. handjobs, blowjobs, cum, orgasm (m), cum eating, slight overstimulation

Bangchan

“w-what the fuck” 

yeah thats his only reaction when you suddenly stick your hand down his pants, wrapping your hand around his dick and slowly stroking it while big spooning him

you werent trying to get him off... more like... you wanted something to play with while watching the movie

boy would be ~ flustered ~ 

he’d find it interesting

why would you jerk him off if you didn’t want him to cum yk?

like that type of thoughs

but of course you can’t expect him to not react LMAO

you were fully immersed in the movie because it started to get interesting now and you didn’t notice how you started jerking him off faster. 

until...

you felt something warm and wet hit your hand paired with his dick twitching

you looked at him and saw that poor boy was biting his bottom lip so hard trying to not disturb you with his moans

“did you cum?” you say, lifiting up his pants to which he yelped and put his hands over yours right at his crotch. “n-no”

Minho

be bold with this man 

pull his pants down when he’s just chilling ASHASHA oh god

he doesn’t think it fair 

eventhough he does the exact same to you

when he does it to you it more like he simply wants to feel you all over, not intending for you to get turned on

but make one moan and this mf thinks it a game

“how many times can i get y/n to moan”

NO OK BUT RETURNING TO YOU -> HIM

it would take sum time to get him to cum

he doesnt strike me as the sensitive type and so you could jerk him for quite a while which hey more fun for you

but ooone faithful day he was more turned on than usual leading to him cumming quicker than he usually does during one of those times where you played with his dick

stroking it, running your thumb across the tip, licking it .. you name it...

you smirk when he accidentally cums on your lips and you lick it off and he just starts complaining (yk when jisung bit his fingernail in that two kids room episode, yeah that tone)

“y-you can’t just do that!!” you start chuckling “what? mad that you came like a bitch?” 

nex thing you know you’re pinned against a wall OOP sorry

Changbin

he lives for this BUT only if you give him attention

which you dont because you’re simply bored and dont want to get him off, more like... liking the feeling of having him in your hand lmao

“can you at least look at me?” you shake your head, holding his semi-erect dick in your hand “shh,,, im watching something!” 

that would be the everyday conversation ahsahsha

I FEEL LIKE YOU COULD GO FOR A WHILE??!

he’d be relativly quiet as well so you wouldnt notice until he actually cums and you’re like “...wtf why is my hand sticky”

BRUH U START APOLOGIZING HASHAS HE JUST GLARES AT YOU FOR NOT GIVING YOU ANY ATTENTION

but he came anyways so..

you try to escape the situation but he’s not having it

“nah you’re not escaping now, finish what you started baby”

Hyunjin

another boy thats lives for this 

why? because a) its a handjob b) he likes the thrill of not knowing when you’re bored c) because you forget what you’re doing and he likes seeing you surprised when he cums ASHAHS god bury me 

would purposefully make you bored 

“the wifi is down y/n,, guess we having nothing to do...w-wanna give me a handjob”

you shrug, “alright” 

you’re completely lost in though, wondering when the wifi will return or what you guys should eat for dinner

suddenly he cums,,, a lot,,,

you laugh at him and he’s kind of blushing with his hair covering parts of his face. 

“i-i’m pretty sure the wifi will be down for a while” ;))

Jisung

FUCK YES LETS GO

he would already just be naked infront of you at random times

like,,, whats the point in putting on clothes after the shower if he knows that you are going to sneak up on him and jerk him off yk?

but what this boy didn’t know was how you didn’t notice most of the time

your hand just having a mind of it’s own...

but you’d notice pretty quick 

since this boy LOUD YALL 

whiny mf 

“shush!” you say, scrolling on your phone with one hand and jerking him off with the other.

you didnt intend on making him cum,,, just giving him a massage ASKKASJSKSA

he’d act all like “ppfft... you can’t make me cum from just that-”

and then shuts up because “h-hey... this feels too g-good”

not thinking he’d cum this quick you started talking to him but were quickly cut off from him letting out a long moan

“f-fuck,, y/n..h-haa,,,”

after he cums you’re like “heading to bed”

but he pulls you back, grabbing your wrist and looking at you with big doe eyes

“c-could we keep going?” 

Felix

boy would be walking around, holding his crotch because he never knows when you attack

because he belong to the more... sensitive bunch of boys... HE DOESNT LIKE IT TOO MUCH

mostly because he’d cum too fast and it would leave him embarrassed (awh poor boy:(( ) 

thats legit the only reason LMAO

noo poor boy wants to appear all tough for you even though you’ve told him over 100 times that he doesn’t have to be, you love him for who he is yk? <33

BUT NOPE stubborn baby sets bets with you

“ok this time i won’t cum that quickly... last time was a practice round”

ASHAHSH WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY JESUS

4 minutes later... YEAH YOU GUESSED IT

and you didnt even notice?!?!

you just thought that those sounds were him in like pain ASHShHAS

because you were to preoccupied thinking watching tv

needless to say,,, he was pouty,, for a while

until you attacked again LMAO

Seungmin

ok gimmie a second,,,, i need to think 

alright... he likes it BUT he’s shy

you need to give the puppy some time to warm up 

do it too fast and he gets scared AHSHASH

so ok lets say that the both of you are doing,, nothing

and you just slowly feel him up and it eventually leads to you jerking him off

you’re not even aware of how good he’s feeling with your hand around his cock

“y-y/n can you stop?” 

“stop what- oh”

looking down you notice that he already came, his cum coating the tip and your hand with white thick ropes

NOT THAT HE CAME FAST JUST THAT HE SUFFERED WITH THE SLIGHT OVERSTIMULATION ON HIS OWN

goddamn... seungmin is always so difficult to write for ONLY ME?!?!?

seungmin stans are already knocking on my door SORRY IM TRYING

Jeongin

BLUSHY BOY

I REPEAT; BLUSHY BOY

“w-what are you doing y/n~?” he says while your hand travels down the side of his body while the two of you were chilling in bed. “im bored” you huff out, looking him in those big brown eyes. “we can play videogames!” he says trying to make you get your hand out of his pants but you shake your head. “i wanna play with you instead” 

boy would melt

painfully shy (and hard)

because you it all happened so fast??

the two of you were chilling, everything quiet and peaceful and before he knows it you’re jerking him off vigorously

he covers his face with his hands, occasionally sneaking a glance of your pretty face from inbetween his fingers as you give him a handjob

you’d be too focused watching his face as almost falling asleep not noticing the boy squirming around 

until you hear

“h-hghnn...”

thats his cumming sounds btw HAHSHAH IF I WASNT CLEAR ENOUGH

jesus i cant write reactions for shit BUT THEY SEEM TO BE REALLY APPRECIATED SO YEAH!

I have 2 more of these coming up oh and also remember that this is legit word vomit SO ITS NOT PROOF READ AND UHM... i’ll try to do the two other ones this week heheh ^^

[words-for-holland]

Always Yours

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Sometimes dating a celebrity is hard...but Tom & Y/N have always said no matter what happens they could get through anything. Some angst but a lot of fluff.

A/N: So sorry for leaving yall hanging! Life is just crazy right now and this blog needs a lot of TLC tbh!! Also ehh I def dont think this was my best work but enjoy?

“Oof” Y/N lets out as she plops on to her boyfriend who was lying comfortable on the couch. Tom groaned at the impact with a cheeky smile on his face, his arms instantly wrapping around Y/N’s frame.

“Y’know..there are empty seats right there.” The soft brown-eyed boy gestured with the flick of his thick head as Y/N raises her eyes looking down at him, pretending to be slightly offended.

“Oh I see how it is then. It’s cool...Ill just cuddle with Tessa instead. I know she would welcome me with open arms instead of—” As she slowly starts getting off his chest, Tom is quick to pull her back in, securing her with his strong arms. “No baby, I was just kidding. I want you right here, and Im never letting you go.” he pleas.

The only thing Y/N could manage was letting out a fit of giggles into his chest, a sound that Tom adored and would do absolutely anything to hear every minute of every day. They stay like this for a while enjoying the feeling of each other as they both run their hands into each others hair, the feeling of their chests moving up and down, the subtle thumps of their heartbeats, and the little slips of adoration that came out of their mouths. It was peaceful. A moment that nobody could really take a way because it was theirs.

Y/N casually pulls up her phone, and scrolls through Twitter when she noticed a particular tweet on her timeline. Her eyebrows furrow, as she read the 160 character message.

Why Tom Holland Should Be With Aaliyah Cole and Dump Y/N: A Thread.

She knew it wasnt a good idea to open up the thread. She knew very well that everything within the shallow string of tweets would be a complete waste of her time because it was made up by fans who just wanted to satisfy their fantasy of shipping Tom with his co-star. Who can blame them? They always had great chemistry, but it was part of the job and thats all it would ever be.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Tom murmurs, as he places soft kisses at the crown of her head. “Whats going on?” She was lucky her phone was facing away from Tom, quickly closing the app and pretending to be on one of her many tabs in Safari.

“Mmm..nothing.” Y/N lies softly, a tight-lipped smiled plastered on her face.

“Absolute bullocks. Youre not a very good liar.” He chuckles. “Tell me darling. Whats on your mind?”

Y/N rolls her eyes in response. She’s heard that comment one too many times in her life from everyone shes known. After not giving it much thought, she gives in, sighing heavily. “Dont judge me for what Im about to say.”

“Mmm...I think it might depend on wha— Ow” Tom reacts as he playfully rubs the side of his chest that Y/N hit. “Okay too soon for jokes. Go on.”

Again, Y/N sighs as she props herself up. “Its just ... well a lot of your fans keeps talking about wanting you to get with Aaliyah.” She looks down trying not to make eye contact with Tom, who she’d imagine was looking at her with annoyance.

Tom rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness. Not so much at Y/N but the fact that some of his fans just didnt want to accept the fact that he was happy with Y/N. If it had to come from his mouth to stop the stupid rumors and give his girlfriend peace, then hed gladly yell it from the rooftops for everyone to hear. “Thats it Im making a statement about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in fear, scrambling to prevent him from grabbing his phone on the table next him. “No no no no.” She repeatedly declines. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“Darling, Im not going to stand here and watch you get all insecure because of their delusional ship.”

“Yeah well Im not gonna be the reason your fans hate me because Im getting in the way of your friendship with Aaliyah Cole.” She fires back.

Tom was ready to open his mouth only to be cut off once again. “And you know better. That is how your fans will always see it.”

“Okay, are you done?” He calmly asked, cautiously observing her. Rarely did Y/N ever get worked up about anything, but when she had her tangents, Tom always made sure she got off everything she needed to say before he becomes her voice of reason.

“Yeah, I guess.” she says feeling defeated. “Look its whatever and Im tired, can we just let this go and forget this whole conversation even happened?”

Tom was unconvinced, but didnt want to push her further. So reluctantly, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Y/N as they both tried to lull themselves to sleep.

***

Y/N wasnt sure how she ended up in the Tube. It was strange how the lights flickered off the rusted tile floor. The train was no where to be seen, but off to the side of the railroads was pitch black, she could hardly see beyond. To her right she noticed herself standing in the corner of the room, and to her surprise Aaliyah was there. Her milk chocolate kissed skin, and fashionably long frizzy hair dropped down past her shoulders. Her figure long and poised, as she wore a rain jacket and sweats. An outfit only she could pull off and make it look like she was a model for Vogue. Aasliyah smiles brightly at Y/N.

“Hey Y/N.” She says cheerfully as a genuine friend would.

To Y/N’s surprise she greeted her back in the same tone. “Hey Aaliyah...uhh whats going on?” Y/N wasnt sure if she wanted the answer of how they both ended up in the Tube or if she truly wanted to know how her day went.

“Well Im getting ready to present at the Oscars.” She replies, a smile plastered as if she was so excited about it, almost too excited like she was keeping a secret.

“Really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! Im so proud of you Aaliyah! Who are you taking?”

Aaliyah pauses for a few moment looking back and forth, making sure no one else was around. “Okay can you keep a secret?” She whispered.

Y/N nods her head slowly, not having the slightest clue of what was going on. “Im taking Tom. I think he really likes me, and well...I like him too! Do you think maybe I should ask him when we go?” Aaliyah asked genuinely. It was almost like she had no recollection of Y/N and Tom being a couple. “I think we would look good together. Everyone is already making rumors and ships about us.”

Y/N backs aways lowly only to bump into a broad figure. As she turns around she sees Tom, emotionless and almost sad. “Y/N.” He speaks out. “I dont think this is going to work out. Im leaving you.”

Y/N’s heart quickens, and her breaths become shorter as she tries to find a way to run. Running and running into the darkness, until all she could hear was Tom’s faint voice calling out her name.

***

“Y/N! Y/N! Baby wake up please.” Tom cries as he gently shakes his girlfriend from her disturbed sleep.

Quickly Y/N opens her eyes and clutches on to Toms hoodie firmly. Back home, and in Toms arms. It was a dream was all she thought. A sigh of relief escaping from her mouth.

“Darling...” he speaks softly, worried about his girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looks up at him and nods frantically. “Mmm..bad dream.”

“Yeah it seemed like it. You were so frightened...I was scared. What happened?” He’s looking at her, trying to read her saddened eyes, wanting to desperately understand what scared her so he could make it all go away for her.

Y/N looks down at her fiddling hands, as she sits on the couch. “I uhh...” she lets out a chuckle, thinking of the ridiculousness of it all. “I uhh...dreamed about Aaliyah going to the oscars and saying how she loved you and how you two are perfect for each other. When I turned around I saw you but you werent happy and said you were leaving me.”

Tom doesnt say a word, all he could think about was how sorry he felt to put Y/N in this position. Though both of them knew, It wasnt Toms fault, or anyone’s for that matter. Feelings are feelings and that was okay. No human being was ever born perfect and without insecurities.

Y/N always tried to be a good sport with situations like this knowing every shippers theory and evidence were hardly ever true, but at some point there was only so much she could take before it all came out like an oil spill. Maybe it was a sign that she wasnt good enough to be with Tom if half of his fanbase thought this way as well.

Tom cradled her into his arms again, holding her tightly and kissing the top of her head. “Darling, I know youre still doubting yourself about all of this, but please believe me when I tell you that I love you so so much and no matter what happens...Im always yours.” He whispers gently in her ear. “It was only a dream and these ridiculous rumors and theories are just that. No one woman in the world could ever make me feel the way I feel for you.”

Y/N blinks softly, as she stares into space. Afraid and in a weird way ashamed, its funny how something so small and so minimal could affect her self-esteem so greatly. Tom gently brings her head up, so her eyes can meet his. He rolls his thumb on the bottom of her soft lips. “Hey, I love you.” Tom smiles.

Time stopped for the both of them the moment Y/N looked into his eyes, she felt safe. All the bad words and thoughts slowly disappear. Tom was right, none of the things that anyone said about their relationship mattered. She knew Tom loved her, and how much she truly loved him. Isnt that enough? Of course not. It was more than enough. A smile slowly forming on Y/N’s face. “Theres that smile I love so much.” He comments.

“Im sorry, for being such a —”

“No. Its okay. You have a right to feel the way you did.” He picks up her hand and leaves a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much Tom.” She says pressing her lips to his. “I dont deserve you.”

“Darling, its me that doesnt deserve you. Im always yours.” Tom proclaims as he kisses her back.

[diluchatesme]

Genshin Retail AU (Liyue)

Notes: damn i dont think the posts are showing up in the tags am i doing something wrong :[

Warnings:

Xingyun (if you squint)

ChiLi (very prominent)

Mentions of crime and Baizhu slander (but i love him, dw)

Other than that I dont think there should be anything too distressing :) please enjoy!

Liyue (Macdonalds):

- Ningguang is the store manager who doesnt care what her employees do as long as they do their job and there are profits

- Keqing tries to keep the order but its about as easy as keeping peace in a daycare but the daycare is full of teenagers capable of arson

- please help her its a macdonalds why is she taking this so seriously

- Chongyun and Xingqiu are always on shift together whether its in the kitchen or cashier. Noone questions how, only that Xingqiu has something to do with it, and chongyun knows nothing. But they do their job, so nobody really calls them out on it

- Zhongli used to work at the drivethru but then got demoted cause hed try to tell everyone the history of macdonalds and held up the line

- so now hes only allowed to fry the fries and not have any interaction with any customers

- similarly ganyu is banned from the kitchen cause she fell asleep in the freezer once and noone noticed until the next morning so shes either at the counter or drivethru

- Xiangling is great at her job and can be stationed anywhere in the kitchen but oh my god please its illegal to put those ingredients in the salad no xiangling stop

- the food ends up good so noone complains but...when the monthly inspection comes..shes put off work for about a week until it passes over

- Hu tao is....hu tao. She once got an order wrong on purpose as a prank but then was brought to the break room for a 'talk' by Zhongli for 5 hours and she never did it again

- tho she does occasionally prank people by saying the ice cream machine is down followed by "dadada!! Youve been pranked!!"

- only she finds this funny and there have been several complaints to Keqing, much to her dismay (definition of "disappointed, but not surprised")

- why did ningguang even hire beidou she isnt even here half the time or she shows up half drunk

- even on the days she shows up sober...everyone can see that hip flask, ma'am,, but understandable, customers are a nightmare

- Xiao dresses as ronald macdonald and hates his job but zhongli was the  one who recommended this job so he refuses to quit

- he would be fine with it if the children werent so loud and a certain kfc employee didnt come in everyday to laugh and take pictures of him

-Xinyan is one of those really loud and enthusiastic cashiers and after she talks to you you feel really heated inside (like an adrenaline rush after a concert)

- whether its good or bad depends on the customer..

- but shes lowkey banned from the kitchen due to her trying to make everything higher temperatures ("itll cook faster") and almost burning the entire macdonalds down

- man we dont know much about yanfei yet but for now she sits at the ball pit or those children play areas and make sure nothing is blown up (looking at you klee) and rules are followed

- Qiqi has a questionable memory, has to be put in charge of similar tasks or its too much for her, so she counts stocks and reports back, under the scrutiny of baizhu, who orders said ingredients

- as for who moves the boxes, well thats where beidou comes in cause sickly green twink man cant lift for HIS LIFE

- overall its a nice place with some oddities here and there but the business prospers and surprisingly stuff gets done

Extras:

Banned from kitchen:

Ganyu

Xinyan

Beidou (Drunk)

Banned from interaction:

Zhongli

Bonus:

- Childe works at a shneznayan Starbucks (with the other harbingers) and used to show up through the drivethru in a fancy ass sports car and still in his work uniform to see zhongli and flirt through the speaker, even if hes muffled and zhongli doesnt understand what hes saying (he was also one of the reasons the line was constantly held up)

- but now that zhongli is in the back he just shows up through the front door every break that he has and makes himself at home in their breakroom (after 2 hours or so scaramouche comes to drag him back because hes STILL on shift)

[i-simp-for-gintoki]

Finding Tobirama trying to relax

“For Tobirama: I have a headcanon that he goes to The Pond™ to sit in the water and meditate, the pressure working as a weighted blanket, there is probsbly some koi swimming there too. If that inspires you, can you do reader doing something that has him running to cool off and it's the first time the reader finds him there?” @kaiseaya​

Oof can yall tell ive gotten worse at writing tobirama? I had no idea what to name this. Also if ur referring to a specific pond im so sorry i have no clue what ur talking about.

This also didn’t really go anywhere??? and dgbjfskdnmd

Warnings: uh ig light arguing??

Tobirama is a serious man

He likes to do stuff his way and by himself if possible

But lately, he was being swarmed with papers ever since he became hokage. It was starting to stress him out so you decided to help

So you stepping in and trying to ‘help’ really screwed him over

“I-I was just trying to help” “Help? Not only did you write too slowly so the ink bled through the documents, you filed them incorrectly and also didn’t even do a decent job writing the reports! If anything you just made my job harder.” 

He closes his eyes in annoyance and lets out an annoyed sigh

Its shocking he isn’t full yelling right now

You apologize once more (which he decides to ignore) before leaving his office

To attempt to make it up for him, you prepare some of his favorite fish from the konoha rivers for dinner

Knowing he wouldn’t be home for a long time, you decided to take the dinner to him

Knocking on his office door, you were greeted with silence

Waiting another moment you called out his name and was yet again greeted with nothing

Growing annoyed you didn’t care anymore

“Alright Tobi, i may have screwed up but are you seriously gonna give me the quiet treatment like a child?” you ask opening the door but paused when you saw the office was empty

Walking in, you wondered where he could be

Being careful of the carefully piled papers, you placed the wrapped plate of food onto his desk and waited a few minutes thinking he was out using the restroom

10 minutes passed and you begun to wonder where he went 

His whole life was work, it would be quite strange for him to go out to eat or hang around the village

He atleast would have told you if he was free anytime soon

So being the curious person you were, you sensed him out

Following his chakra, it led you to a small forest

There wasn’t any paths smoothed out, just a bunch of nature

You wondered if he had left on an emergency mission, and if that was the case you’d stop as soon as you hit the village boarders

You werent expecting to find a small clearing

The trees around still towered over and let just a bit of sunshine pool into the open area

In the middle was a small pond, along with a familiar looking albino

Tobirama sat ontop of the water, right in the center with his legs crossed

There he sat with his eyes closed, face stern and harsh even while meditating

You quietly sat besides the pong and watched for a bit

You didn’t feel like disturbing him quite yet

The water was pretty clear, maybe a foot deep, maybe even two. Some leafs and flower petals floated on top of the water

As you stared longer, you noticed there was a couple of koi fish swimming around

It was really calming, watching the fish swim in circles like this

Swimming around tobirama, it slightly reminding you about the flow of chakra

But you had to wonder, why would tobirama be here? How did he even find this place?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, deep voice snapping you out of your thoughts

He didn’t sound annoyed, but you knew that could change in an instant

As his red eyes pierced your soul you decided to continue watching the fish swim around while giving an explanation

He simply nods at your explanation

A few more minutes of peaceful silence pass when you finally ask why he’s here and if this place holds a special meaning

“Its calming, its not loud, the only things you hear are nearby birds or the fish occasionally breaching the water. It’s not out of the village, yet far enough where i don’t have to worry about people bothering me.” he explains, not bothering to open his eyes

You thought it was kinda funny that out of everything he chose to do, to relax he decided to sit in the middle of a small pond. But you didn’t dare voice that

“Im sorry.” you say, and he finally looks at you

He stares for a minute, several thoughts running through his head before letting out a sigh

“Don’t do it again.”

Very simple, he doesn’t care for the over dramatic conversations, going on and on with silly reasonings. What needed to be said was said, very simply and easy.

You nod your head and both sit there in silence for a while longer

From then on, you noticed whenever work got particularly stressful or heavy, he’d appear here and sometimes even feed the fish

Which was hilarious by the way

Seeing such a stoic man walk in the middle of nowhere solely to feed some wild fish

sometimes you join him while he meditates, he hasn’t really done anything or shown anything that he dislikes it so you think its fine

besides i think as long as he isn’t angry at you then he might enjoy your presence when he’s trying to calm down

don’t expect him to admit that tho

[savnofilter]

FLF 4

𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱『𝐆𝐍』𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(s): Androphobia — Irrational fear of men. mild sassy shoto (hes just not self aware dhkfj).

↬ ᴄʀᴇᴅs: x, x. | secret alliance 

↬ ʀᴍ: february love fest

↬ ᴀ/ɴ: funny story, i wrote a smut to this once sisbsksis *cough cough* anyways i read secret alliance and fucking loved it so much. so, i used the idea of a relationship that occurs in it for todoroki's fic!! this kinda was fun to write~ 😌☝🏽

the relationship between you two at first was very awkward. 

your fear is what often hindered you from even reaching a familiar bond with men that you rarely told anyone.

you two had been in the same class for three years, and you two had barely spoken to one another. 

the one time that forced you and Todoroki to interact was when you had accidentally set-off a particular rowdy blonde during class is what made Shoto intervene to calm the situation down. 

after he managed to split you two up is when he could clearly see you were shaken up and tried his best to calm you down. 

"You want me to… what?" He paused looking up at you. 

You anxiously bit your lip, facial expression morphing into a frown. “I w-want you to help me.”

“Why… why me?” He stands up, looking down at you from his desk and towers over you.

You freeze upon him doing so, your body not sure what to do as you lift your hands to protect yourself. Your posture catches him off guard, his expression flickering as he knows that kind of body language all too well.

“Shouldn’t you get proper help? I don’t think I can help you...” Shouto's tone was much quieter now. He looks at you for permission to take a seat near you again, hesitating to sit back down next to your desk once you consent.

You sigh softly. "I do, actually. But you're the only male that has never scared me."

hearing that news was so weird to hear coming from his P.O.V. he himself had fears of becoming anything close to his father.

it wasnt until that moment was when he noticed that you werent around any of the guys in your class or ever unless you had to. 

~ dont ask him how he knows, but you intern with a pro-hero who isnt male.

the interaction between you was weird. even with how odd your request was, he accepted.  

Todoroki would read up on your fear, look up different things to help you when he'd come over to your dorm. 

you two ended up being able to open up certain things that you had no idea he struggled with, and you the same. 

your class took notice of your change in relation. 

the looks you guys would give each other when you werent paying attention 100% gave it away. (when has he ever been discreet?)

of course the girls would ask about it but you would deny it all the time. it wasnt until when your small meetings with Todoroki turned to hanging out to him taking you out on dates. 

in with time, you did start get better. you werent magically healed but he did help you find better coping and habits to help you get comfortable. 

the first other male you were comfortable with was Sero, and that was probably it. 

least to say tho, everyone was shook. 

"Did L/N just talk to you?!" Kaminari exclaims, jostling Sero's shoulder. "You're so lucky, man."

Shoto wasnt even jealous or bitter. he was so happy to see you start a conversation without the help of him. 

every other time you would manage to start or have a successful with other males, he would buy you something you really liked or just did an activity you guys enjoyed doing together. 

coincidentally, you receiving help from him helped you get closer and talk to him about his problems too. 

after a year or two later is when you guys actually acknowledge your feelings for each other. 

admittedly he always had feelings for you but never made a move until you showed that you were ready for that. 

so yeah, you confessed first and he was so relieved?! the feelings that came to him then were the same when you two had started talking. 

when you guys finally eloped, your past classmates congratulated like you guys had gotten engaged LOL. 

i mean,,, engagement wasnt a no but just not for now. 

until then, you two were happy being together in peace.

[yeoldontknow]

Light Sakura

Author’s Note: welcome back to chanvember 2019! this is a much heavier offering. when i was in japan in april, i wrote some of my thoughts and feelings into notes. there werent many, but i decided to turn them into this beast a fic. this is a very personal story - personal and heavy, and is probably me at my most raw and honest. more than anything, this is me letting you in to watch me process life. i hope you can still appreciate it <3  Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Genre: romance; angst; travel!au; fluff; light smut Summary: While taking your honeymoon in Tokyo, alone, you meet Chanyeol, a man who reminds you of the person you remember being long before you learned to forget yourself. After spending one full day together, you question if you could walk away from him - especially when it feels like walking away from yourself, again. Rating: R Warnings: some intense, adult angst; the most beautiful chanyeol ive ever written; and an explicit makeout session Word Count: 15K

Barely half nine in the morning and already the cherry blossom trees of the Shinjuku National Gardens have decided to whelm you. 

Overhead, they sway in the breeze, elegant in their movements and peaceful in the way they seem to exist for no one and everyone, but most of all, themselves. You relate to them, in only this half-formed similarity, alone on the linen blanket you’ve spread across a soft patch of grass. 

The blush pink of the petals puts the flavor of hope, faith, and healing on your tongue - you’re unsure if this is what they truly mean, if this is the ascribed symbolism to pretty, delicate things, but it feels like they matter. You feel strongly and passionately they mean something beyond the aesthetic of paradise, filtered and filtered again through Instagram as proof of experience.

To you, they are the herald of change, the transience of perfection contained neatly in the blossom, fading almost as soon as they appear. Always, they depart swiftly, detached and long missed yet remaining somewhere just beyond reach, a memory of perfect bliss; the wonder, and the healing, and the euphoria of existence, and the grief and melancholy of the inherent loss. 

From the corner of your eye, you see it, a large mass of struggle and frustration. Intrigued, you look over to find a man, tall and gangly, battling with himself and the blossoms and the sun to take a selfie. On this cloudless day in April, the sun seems to find his eyes from every angle, even this early in the morning. Blinded yet, somehow, ignited, he becomes at once a man both at peace and at war with nature, challenged by the haze of morning to outshine the blossoms. Even under the sakura tree, the sun seeks his shapes, gives him a glow that speaks of reverence and admiration. 

It’s entertaining to witness, though only serves to remind you that there is no one with you to laugh or to watch, to share in the delight of such a vision, and so you look away, having already seen enough for yourself.

Glancing down to your blanket, you see the array of items spread before you, gaze drifting to the sakura mochi. Your lips fall to a grimace, the humor of the morning dissipating on sight. Nothing about the confection tastes right, or truly like a confection at all. One bite, and all you could think was that some things are meant to be witnessed and admired, never consumed, their delicate lightness bitter on the tongue but sweet to the iris. 

Lured by motion in the distance, you look up once more and find he is still there, spinning in circles beneath the trees. The longer you watch, the more you find he is somewhat familiar in his unfamiliarity, the strangeness of not knowing his name or personality or history its own sort of comfortable adventure, the thrill of it settling over your nerves in a way you had long abandoned. The sight of him overtakes you the same way he is overtaken by the sun, almost immediately and without escape. Though, for you, you know you are overtaken by the nostalgia of an imperfect youth and the mistakes that come from letting the wrong person in - not dangerous, not lethal, but deadly just the same and always just as reckless.

And so you don't know why you speak, why you even rise to a stand, allow yourself to disturb the peaceful solitude of your morning, wanting, rather suddenly, to ease his struggle. Even more, you don’t know what exactly it is about him that makes you reach out, giving yourself yourself away and over to the feeling of longed for and missed connections.

'Do you want help with that picture?'

A small noise of surprise leaves his chest as he turns to face you, seeking your voice with his lips set in a full pout. At once and against your better judgement, you swoon, transfixed by how arresting he truly is. Arresting, a word you’ve never really used for people or even art made after 1945, the term reserved for pain and poetry, but he becomes it, embodies it, in every sense of the meaning. 

His smile take it time as his gaze walks over your features, taking you in, beguiled and amused and delighted for the help - relieved too, a grateful smile falling on his lips as though he'd been waiting for you, relaxing at once into the comfort of not knowing you at all. It strikes you how easy it is to connect when you aren’t really trying to, when you aren’t thinking or overthinking, and people can just be themselves. 

The warmth in his smile remains, even as he speaks, the genuine contentment of it infectious. 'Do you mind?' 

Taking a few cautious steps towards you, he runs a hand through his hair, anxious. 

'Happy to.' You close the gap between you both, extending your hand, palm upwards, for his phone. 'It's funny, I thought this would have been easy given how long your arms are.'

The joy of his smile spills into his laugh as he hands you his phone, the sound boisterous and altogether too loud for the quiet stoicism of Japan, his unbridled energy turning the colours of the gardens into something far more rich than the human eye could bear. 

'Sorry,’ you giggle, carried by the sound of his pleasure. ‘I don't mean that as an insult.' It’s amusing, you think, how awkward this exchange is. How terribly exciting it truly is to not be comfortable. ‘You just don’t realize how hard good selfies are until you’re short, like I am.’

'Well,' he concedes, 'the limbs are helpful for group photos but when you're perpetually under the sun and in the way and having to duck, it's just as difficult.'

Far more lightly than you would have imagined for someone of his size, he settles on the edge of the wooden bridge, the water of the pond glistening behind him, gleaming much like the cityscape in the distance. At once, he is radiant, another word you’d never used for a person until you saw him, the tips of his ears catching the light, the sunbeams finding him in a way they don’t seem to find other people. Or, perhaps, they don’t find him at all, and simply are born of him entirely, emerging from his core and lifted into the atmosphere. 

A warm breeze moves through the air, rustling your hair, and he leans into it, almost imperceptibly. Eyes closed and expression soft, he lifts his head towards the sky and smiles, blissful in his quiet contentedness. 

An image such as this, you think, is poetic, the kind of portrait that resonates throughout the city long after the person has left, adding weight to their photo collection and adding weight to all of those who witnessed its capture. But your finger hesitates, the slowness of your muscles taking its time to luxuriate in his expression. His delight, his happiness, his easy way of coming alive as though it were natural, and as though you could learn to do it, too. 

And so you are slow, paused in your admiration long enough for it to dissipate altogether, his mercurial personality shifting his pose almost immediately into one of casual nonchalance. 

'Let me know when you're ready,' he says, regarding you with a calm, yet detached smile.

'Okay.' You're unsure when you became so breathless, when the air left you and went in search of somewhere, or someone, else, but you're unsure it matters. Moments like this, of intense feeling and abrupt emotion, you know, usually do not last. 'Three. Two. One.'

The moment you press capture to take the picture, his expression changes. Eyes going cross-eyed, he sticks out his tongue and wrinkles his nose, making a mess of the scenery, and the image, altogether. And all at once, you laugh, overcome and overtaken by the shock. The abrupt force of it makes you sputter, your breath lurching forward in a cough as he rises to a stand, pleased with himself. 

'How did it come out?' Pride drenches his words, smile wide and large and eyes glistening in victory, as you realize he meant it - he meant every detail of it.

Catching your breath, you study the picture, the absurdity of it, and turn it around to show him. 'You don't want me to delete this?'

He shakes his head, reaching for the phone and regarding the photo with a smirk. 'Absolutely not.' 

‘Who is this picture for?' you question, confident a photo like that has a home, a purpose, a place. It’s not pretty, the expression and the energy tarnishing any hope of it living on social media. 

'Just me,' he clarifies with a small shrug. 'But does it have to be for anyone?'

You fall silent, mind empty by the simplicity of this statement and mesmerized by his lightness of being. A talent, you are aware, you simply do not share. 'No,' you agree, voice soft, 'I suppose not.'

'Do you want me to take one of you?' he offers, pocketing his phone and cocking his head to the side.

In truth, you hadn’t considered it - hadn’t considered any part of this morning, likely would have come and gone with only pictures of the trees and none of you, your essence moving through the city without leaving a trace. It would be nice, you think. Something for your mother or, as he said, something for no one at all - something to remember yourself by.

'Do you mind?'

He nods, enthusiastically, offering his palm with eager fingers. 'It's the least I could do.'

Sitting on the bridge railing in the same place, the breeze moves through your hair once more, and you understand why he eased into the feel of it, almost tender in its smooth traverse between the strands. Sweetness lingers in the air, the smell of blossoms and food and a distinct characteristic, definitive to Tokyo, that you will never quite place. Hands gripping the wood, your mind wanders, seeming to forget there’s a purpose to your position here, a purpose for this crowd and a reason the petals move through the air, lifted much the same way the wind gives flight to wings.

Would you have wanted to share this moment, you think, with someone else, or share it at all? Are you truly sharing this moment, with the people around you and the man preparing to take your photo? Would another person have made it better - would he have made it better? Could it really have been more joyful than this? 

Mostly, you think you would have been pressured, too aware of everything, especially he needs of another person. Aware, most distressingly, of the crippling necessity for plans and the way you are forever bound to the beginning and the end of an existence, all actions reduced from their experience to little more than a point A and a point B, with little room for the journey in between.

As if on cue, your new found partner coughs, approaching you with a placid expression.

'Sorry,’ he mumbles apologetically. ‘You're getting a facetime call.'

Gently, almost reproachfully, he hands you the phone and you look at the name, the iridescent letters making your stomach sink. Guilt overtakes you, mind racing even though it feels so impossibly empty, each glimmer of the name and the sad, almost solemn image of your face running your tongue dry. Briefly, you are reminded of the sakura mochi, and the way beautiful things so easily sour. 

The shadow of your new, strange friend lingers, his own body taking on a sway that distracts you enough to decline the call with a tap of your finger.

'It's okay,' you say, handing your phone back to him with a smile you know is partially vacant. 'I can call him back.'

He simply nods, expression neutral, both somehow aware that you will not.

With only a few long strides, he returns to his original position just as swiftly as he returns to his original mood, jovial and easygoing all over again. 'Tell me when you're ready.'

'Ready,’ you announce, unsure if you’ve ever really meant it. 

Loud with enthusiasm, he counts down the same way as you had, but you find you don’t carry the same playfulness to be as creative or amusing as he was. He was mesmerizing, and you are entirely uncertain how to attain that same radiant sense of optimism he seems to exude even beyond the frame of his picture. Instead, you simply look at him, trapped in a state of wonder and loss, a limbo that feels worthy of being captured.

It is not, you think, that this is a moment you’d like to return to, merely that you think you’d like to see how it looks. More than anything, you want to know how to capture and hold and maintain the fleeting experience of growth. Down to the depths of your marrow, you simply want to give permanence to the in between, your desire for control a habit you could never quite shake, regardless of how often you try.

Humming, he approaches you with your phone in hand, pleased with himself, though the corners of his mouth are downturned in pensive consideration.

'Who is this picture for?' he muses, parroting your earlier question and handing you the phone.

You meet his gaze for a single moment, mystified by the way his thoughts run wild in his irises, before looking down at the image. The person in the photo is you - she looks like you and wears your clothes, but you are aware that you are entirely absent from the image. Instead, you have been replaced with someone unfamiliar - neither hopeful nor resentful, she simply appears lost. Not lonely, not lacking, just learning, having neither retreated inward nor retreated at all, here and nowhere and delighted by the confusion of it. 

'No one,' you say, proud with your success. This is not a beautiful picture, and you are glad for it, the ability to witness the discomfort of evolution. 'Everyone.'

Looking up at him once more, you finally offer him a smile you believe in, a smile you know is genuine.

'Does it matter?'

He shakes his head, returning your expression with childlike wonder. 'No, I suppose it doesn't.'

For a few, intangible moments, you remain like this, both regarding one another, a little unsure how to feel or what to say or what to even make of one another, smiling because it feels right and it feels good. He leans forward, inches closer as though pulled by a magnet, and the motion draws your attention to the queue that has started to form behind him. Each passing moment, more people arrive to the gardens, people wanting to view the blossoms and wanting the same photo as you, patient and yet hardly patient at all giving the bounce in their knees.

'Do you want to have breakfast with me?' You’re entirely unsure where the question comes from, and find yourself pointing in the direction of your blanket, the food and the bags still exactly where you left them. 

You are unsure where the question came from but you are not upset that you asked, not even appalled. At this moment, the only thing you can truly fathom is that you want to remain in his company if only because it is spontaneous.

He glances to where you pointed, narrowing his eyes. 'Are you sure? I don't want to impose.'

'Do you have somewhere else to be?’ you press, allowing him a way out should he be too polite to take one for himself. ‘Plans?' The word feels heavy in your mouth, weight and severity of it unsuited for him entirety. 

'Not really,’ he grins. ‘I'm just exploring today.'

You return his smile, glad that he gets it even if he does not. 'Me, too.'

'In that case, yeah, I'd love to join you.' 

Together, you make your way to the blanket, his stride slightly unnatural as he adjusts to your pace. The kindness of it fills your chest with a heat long absent in your connections with others, and you welcome it, delighted for its return.

 'I'm Chanyeol,’ he says, angling himself on the blanket so his shoes remain on the grass. He extends his hand towards you once more, friendly and personable.

'Y/N.'

The press of his palm into yours warms your nerves, a thrill of newness gliding up your arm and into the nodes of your lungs. Swallowing thickly, you maintain your smile, wondering if he can see that his presence threatens to send you floating, a too much too soon rush of blood to the head. His gaze remains on yours too long, the same way his hand remains twined with yours too long, and when he remembers himself, separating you, it does not escape your attention that he presses the flat of his hand to the blanket, knuckles tense.

It’s the same for you, the memory of his touch lingering long after he has left you, skin tingling and feeling tattooed.

Blinking, you avert your gaze and nudge the wooden box of sakura mochi towards him, gesturing for him to try it.

'Oh you got one of these?’ he begins, slowly, tentatively. ‘They're...'

'Awful?' you offer, hoping he agrees.

'Yeah,' he laughs. ‘It’s really surprisingly terrible. I didn’t want to say in case you love it.’

Your laugh joins his, the sound new and refreshing - yours in  a way that it hasn’t been for a long time. You recognize the sound of it, the crystal ring and high echo a sound you made when you were nineteen and unafraid of the distant expanse of life. Back when you were fresh and bright and untarnished by the way a person can wake up and demand so much of you before the sunrise - demand parts that do not exist, and so you must create them, calling the shell of this action a compromise. 

"I’ll give that up because you’re asking so nicely," you hear yourself say. "But be warned this is a slippery slope, and I don’t think you’re ready for the fallout."

He thinks you’re teasing. You know that you aren’t.

"One day," you hear yourself say, "I will give it all up for you and there will be nothing left of me for you to take."

Hours later, the linen blanket folded neatly into his backpack, Chanyeol joins you on the trip to teamLab Borderless. Because, you have two tickets and it would be a shame to waste them, a thing you said as a method of reasoning, a means to rationalize the fact that you felt good about asking him. Because, he had attempted to buy tickets and found he was too late, the day already sold out and the next available date after his departure. And you smiled, glad for his company and for the ability to make irrational choices, the magic of both these things making the tips of your fingers tingle with adrenaline.

And he smiled, you like to think, because he was glad to be with you, with someone, glad that you wanted him, continuing a conversation that never seemed to stop.

The art museum swallows you, takes you in and refuses to release your bones, turning you to carrion flowers. The dark shadows and blurred edges entrap you in a state of awe. At every corner, the impenetrable blackness looms but it is not foreboding, the contrast giving way to smears and arrays of colour so unlike the usual refractions your eyes choose to witness. 

Even covered by this darkness, still, Chanyeol finds a way to glow. Through almost every room, the colours adorn his skin, craving contact with one they recognize as their own. Or, perhaps, it is you, learning to crave all over again and shedding the weight of responsibility, of choice over carnal desire, mind over matter, and the physicality of your wanting suddenly made manifest for all to see, staining him with the residue in the process. 

He seems at peace in the falsehood of this magic, touching walls and touching lights with long fingers and delicate caresses. Standing behind him just enough to give him space, privacy, you watch as a light show animals, flowers blooming from their backs as they walk, passes along the wall. For a moment, you are transfixed, wondering where the lights are, how someone as tall as him doesn’t interrupt or break the lines of their imagined flesh, until he reaches one arm up and runs his fingers down the wall.

Slowly, gently, sweetly, he caresses these false animals, long fingers offering a gentle touch to the wall, and you step forwarding, moved by his bravery. Peering at his profile, you regard his serene smile and half-formed dimple at the corner of his cheek, softening for him as the seconds pass. Mirroring his actions, you do the same, running your hand down the wall and feeling the fabric, stroking the necks and limbs and arms of animals, the press of your fingers sending flower petals cascading to the floor, gathering, and not gathering at all, at your feet. 

Chanyeol smiles at you, pleased with the entropy you have introduced, and walks down the hall with his hand still at the wall, touching and touching all he is allowed with the same tenderness he would provide a lover. It seems, to you, that he will never truly have his fill of the sensation of feeling, the smile he wears too satisfied with himself to really pull away, only doing so when the wall ends and he absolutely must. Standing in front of a new room, his hands clench into fists, wanting to touch but refraining from smearing his prints on the glass.

He leads you further into the museum, into a room full of lights and lights and lights, strung from the ceiling and glimmering not unlike diamonds. It takes you a moment to realize the lights are just that, and not refined quartz, natural pieces of the earth uprooted to display their shine. Chanyeol weaves away from you, looking at you over his shoulder with a playful, tempestuous grin, and you struggle to keep up with him, his long limbs carrying him away faster than you can move through the crowd. 

Alone in an open expanse of light, you turn and turn, spinning in circles looking for him, rationalizing this sudden separation and wondering if abandonment always feels so abrupt; if you, and your over eager feet, did this to him, pushing beyond your limits out of righteous indignation. Was it always going to be this way? Would you always find yourself in solitude, just when things started to feel good?

From the distance, you hear Chanyeol’s voice and the noise of delight he releases, a sound that says he found what he’s looking for. You almost see his shadow, the length of him mirrored and rendered into an iridescent form behind the lights, a luminous mirage in an oasis of illusions. 

‘Y/N,’ he calls, voice rippling through the room with some restraint, his efforts of being polite likely going unnoticed. ‘Watch this.’ 

At once, the lights change from soft hues of green and pink and purple to white, pure and endless white, the room igniting in a flash before turning blue and blue and blue, the sound of rain consuming the room. All at once and all over again, you feel weightless, as if the limits of nature and the limits of physics could no longer root you to the earth. 

But then, you suppose, that is the point.

Limits don’t exist, likely never existed at all, your own mind creating the borders just to give structure and rules to things never meant to be thought through, only felt. Always felt and touched and bent by your hands and no one else's, and you find you thrive when there are no rules, just light and sound and art and Chanyeol; always Chanyeol, leading you into the light and ensuring you feel it.

The light hits you like a flood, shimmering in all the ways you wish you could. Your clothes and skin and hands become kindling for alchemy, granting you permission to glow, still differently than the holy way Chanyeol seems to smolder within the magic. On you, it attaches and pulls at you, breaking the boundaries of your flesh until you stand, palms up and regarding the ceiling, feeling a mist the sound of rain surely did not bring with it. But still, you are wet, wet with tears and relief and memory, emptying yourself of the things you keep buried within, letting them run free simply because Chanyeol gave you the aural, cosmic permission to do so.

He comes to stand before you as the lights turn to a shade of red, the glimmer making his dark hair appear auburn and putting a false flush at his cheeks. His very presence seems to change the atmosphere, molding the energy to fit and suit him, your own breath halting in your lungs, your blood, your heart, giving you pause to take him in, making room to fit him inside and never let him free. 

‘Beautiful, wasn’t it?’ he asks, soft and thoughtful and the quietest he’s been all day. ‘That’s my favourite.’

You can only manage a slight nod, too vulnerable to give shape to words, fully aware the sound of your own voice would break you. Chanyeol steps closer, the lights behind and around you changing from red to purple, romantic in their shift, and the electric shock between you both looms, running down the light strings the same way it runs down your nerves.

‘Do you want to get some tea?’ he tries, keeping his tone even and soothing.

Once again, you nod, needing to be near him and needing to feel close, healed, and warmed by something other than the sight of his deep, affectionate eyes.

The pressure of your tea cup on the table causes flowers to bloom, a trick of light and science that makes it hard for you to speak for a long time. Your flowers are different from his, all pink and yellow and gold, where his swirl in deep shades of purple, the rich green of his leaves sprawling not unlike ivy, reaching, as best they can, towards your petals.

'This was meant to be my honeymoon,' you announce abruptly, keeping your eyes fixed on the foamy liquid and watching the petals bloom in your cup. Mentally, you compare them to the blossoms that line the street and the park, aware that these colours are too strong to be natural, but are equally as ephemeral. 

Chanyeol doesn't say anything, just watches you patiently, expectant. 

'I have two for everything,' you continue, running your finger over the petals and watching them bleed into your skin. 'It's cheaper to travel as two, in every sense. No one ever wants you to go alone, or go alone and feel good about it.'

'Why did it end?' As soon as he says it, he recoils, apologetic. 'I'm sorry if that's personal.'

Hissing through your teeth, you sigh. 'He didn't cheat on me, if that's what you're asking.'

'I don't really know what I should be asking,’ he counters, still so resolutely encouraging, ‘but I'm glad that's not true.' 

'I wish he did,' you admit bitterly. 'It would have made sense. There would have been a reason.' 

Chanyeol softens, hand coming to rest on the table, inching forward and back again. 'That's okay,' he reassures. 'Sometimes, things just don't work out.'

'He was perfect.’ You aren’t really sure why you say it, aware that you are announcing things you would share in a conversation with someone else. Perhaps that’s what this is, a conversation with no one, not even Chanyeol. 'Anyone would have loved him.'

Still, he smiles. 'But anyone doesn't have you be you.' 

When you turn to face him, your expression feels cold, and you wait for him to reel back, shocked and pained, but he remains calm and patient. You love him, then, love him and hate him all at once.

'I could have.'

'So why didn't you?'

“Are we spending too much time together?” you asked, the sadness in your chest pulling at your lungs, tearing the nodes in the hopes of creating irreparable fissures.

“No?” he replied, also a question and sounding just as distressed as you.

You shook your head. “We are.” It was so obvious. Everything, to you, was so obvious. “We’re starting to sound like one another.”

It was such a silly thing to say, silly and cruel. You were so aware of it, of his crestfallen expression and the way you burdened him just by letting him know, by letting him see. Doubt painted his features, and you felt guilty for the thrill of watching him collapse.

“I just want to sound like me again.” This too, should have been obvious, but it crept up on you, slowly and when you absolutely didn’t want to look. “I don’t really don’t even understand my references, anymore.”

All you can do is look at him, look at him and smile in a way that feels hollow. But Chanyeol, for all his goodness and all his kindness, doesn’t seem to mind, he merely smiles back in a way that does not demand words. With him, there is no pressure, simply the understanding that not every question deserves or has ownership of an answer.

Chanyeol, for all his boyish charms, is the first to understand that, sometimes, questions just are and you cannot expect them to be solved.

Beside your glass teacup, your phone rings, silent and depicting the face of a person you’ve spent days trying to let down easily.

You decline the call.

The petals in your cup begin to fade.

Akihabara is his idea, silent suggestion tucked at the corner of his mouth, nestled behind his smile. A suggestion after a late lunch that leads you, seemingly aimlessly, to a train, an alley, and his outstretched hand, extended calmly and held in pause, waiting for you to take it and to not let go. It’s likely he does this to ensure you do not get lost in the throng of people, the tight crowd of commuters making their way home or simply making their way, shaking off the energy of a long shift - or, perhaps, still at work, likely in the last third of their work day, seeking a brief release in the form of distraction. 

It’s likely he does this so that you do not get separated, but the tightness with which he holds you puts hope in your chest, a hope that he clings to you so desperately because the fear of separation runs deep and runs longer than either of you would like to admit. It’s nice to think this way, even if the sense of power it provides is fleeting. 

But he offers you his hand, assumes that you will follow, assumes, beyond any measure of doubt, that you will be beside him, his mirror, and expects little else from you at all, undemanding of anything except your company. 

At sunset, it's hard to fathom anything more golden - the river swallowing the sky and taking it whole, reflecting that which they consume like a jealous lover, proud and greedy. Chanyeol is all smiles and loud laughs, weaving through the people, the overwhelm, to show you everything - everything, yet conversely, nothing at all, at home with the chaos. 

The city seems pregnant with potential, a gleam of untapped and just bloomed magic starting to unfurl within the lights, the rate of change a slow descent that eases you into another universe altogether - seen always without being seen until the totality of it is noticed all at once.

And when the sun disappears from view, the blue black of early night casting its protective shadow over the earth, Akihabara changes the sky. All at once, it is a metamorphosis of progress that eats the cosmos, transmutes the atoms and the clouds and the stars into fuel for its electric sheen. It's impossible to know where to look, if you should look anywhere at all apart from Chanyeol. The neon lighting of the signs puts shadows on his cheekbones, cuts his jaw into a rough shape that turns him from a boy into a man, his smile neither menacing nor tempting, simply alive and aware, a man in his element, brought to life by the electric current of energy.

It's a sensory overload, the city street and Chanyeol's protective, possessive grip. With his hand clasped tightly in yours, the light burrows beneath your skin, seeking the pores along your flesh and rooting itself down and down, into your inbetween. Every stroke of his thumb against your knuckles, every laugh, is an electric shock traversing your nerves and pushing you the edge of excitement. 

You keep your eyes trained on the tips of his ears and the smooth line of his neck, his long legs always a few steps ahead of you - like he’s figured it out and like he’s lived this street hundreds and hundreds of times. Store signs pop on as you pass, and his ears catch the light, the tips taking on every shade of the rainbow, and your own heart struggling to memorize the person he becomes under each.

There’s something wild about this feeling, the admiration and the adoration of watching these asymmetrical pieces of him become beautiful and charming, that reminds you of craving, of the intensity of it, and, most of all, of the hunger that always seems to follow. It’s been years since you’ve wanted someone, wanted them beyond comfort and understanding, wanted someone and the mess of having to learn them all over again, aware that true intimacy follows and accumulates over time. But desire, desire always comes first, and it is always what makes you want to let a person in.

Chanyeol stops abruptly at a taiyaki vendor, eyes wide and full of fascination as he lingers by the window, watching the red bean paste rhythmically get dropped into dough molds. Still, he does not release your hand, only squeezes it twice, ensuring he has your attention, your touch, and your focus.

‘Have you ever had one of these?’ he asks, still watching the chefs and the mold press.

You hum. ‘Yeah, in New York there’s a place that makes them. Obviously, I’m sure these are better.’ 

He turns to you, wrapped in a state of pleasure and excitement, and everything about him is infectious. You smile at him, simply happy to be smiling with him, and he pulls you along, ordering one pastry in skilled Japanese. Blinking at him, you watch as he speaks with the cashier, wondering how you could have missed such a practiced accent or confident speech pattern, but quickly remember it was you with the tickets, you who spoke first, and even at lunch, you ordered separately, walking away from him to wait patiently at a table.

So much of him you’ve missed or glossed over, so much of the man he is rather than his heart escaping your attention, and when he holds his treat in his hand, you find it difficult to look away from him, watching him take a large, impressive bite.

Once again, a laugh erupts from your chest, and he pauses mid bite, regarding you with curious eyes.

‘Your mouth is so big,’ you clarify, and he smiles, proud and laughing with you as he continues to eat. ‘It’s just so impressive.’

Chanyeol closes his eyes happily as he eats, giggling in delight at your pleasure or the pastry, or maybe both, content with every detail of the moment. Smirking, he tilts the pastry towards you offering a bite, and the simple generosity of this action halts your breath in its path. This is intimate, should not be so intimate, especially when you are aware, so aware, of the true meaning of the word, but still it settles over you, like dust and the light and the acceptance that, again, you feel good about the risk you’ve taken.

Placing your lips where his have been, you wonder idly if the sweetness on your tongue is the dough, the sugar, or him, a residue left behind comprised of his laugh, his words, his soul filling your mouth and keeping it wet and wet, inspired to transform into someone else. Neither new nor different, just cleansed.

You chew slowly and he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your reaction, and the intensity of his stare, the heat and the wonder sends you reeling. 

You told him even though he said, clearly and repeatedly, that he didn’t want to know. He didn’t need to. Think of him what you will, he was smart, smarter than you ever gave him credit for, and he already knew. Saying it would just confirm his doubt, breaking him all over again in the most unnecessarily cruel way.

“I have something to tell you,” you announced, even though you both already knew. 

“Not tonight.”

But you said it anyway, aware that every tomorrow hinged on his reaction, whether it would mean losing himself or losing you. You just wanted to know which he would choose, waiting to see which direction he’d take.

‘It’s sweet,’ you say, watching Chanyeol beam and nod and agree, delighted. ‘Sweeter than the one I had before.

He takes the pastry back and swallows the marks your teeth made whole, turning away to chew and watching as the cars pass along the street. Sugar lingers on the corner of his mouth as he eats, lips and cheeks sweet in a full pout as he savors the pastry, but you can’t really look away from. Tokyo is diverting and distracting, but you can’t fathom a better view.

'Hold on,' you laugh, his pause of confusion entirely too endearing for a man his age, however hold he is or is not. 'You have something on your...'

You might never know what compels you to reach up, your finger extended and your touch gentle, moving the sugar away with one slow, languid swipe. You decide it's another question that likely will never have an answer, because there is no answer, but just as quickly as you also decide it does not matter. Chanyeol's smile of gratitude is bewitching, the blue and green lights pulling the gold and red from his skin, and the reverent way he looks at you answer enough.

For several moments, you remain this way, silently regarding one another and letting thought, emotion, and need grow between you. A moment of silence in which there is no silence at all, the noise of the city a soundtrack of wanting that gets drowned out, stifled beneath the prism of affection that blooms and blossoms between your chests.

'Thank you,' he says, as though nothing at all had transpired, as though there was no pause, as though time did not stop at all. 'I'm a messy eater, sometimes.'

'I can be, too,' you muse, looking away and hoping for a distraction, a thing that should not be so difficult to find, yet still proves to be. 'He always hated that, my ex.'

Chanyeol snorts, finishing the desert with a large bite. 'I don't think that's something you can help,' he counters, mouth full.

You shrug. 'He would always laugh while he complained. I imagine he thought that made it better, like he found it endearing, but you can always tell, can't you? You can spend so long with a person you eventually can hear what they don't say, even if it's not in their tone.' Tugging your lip between your teeth, you wonder if you should continue, if it really matters. 'After so long with a person, I think your language changes, your sentences become the same, and it takes time and distance to unlearn it.'

He releases a long hum, eyebrows raised. 'I get that,' he nods, allowing you to speak without challenging anything at all.

It strikes you that he seems to understand so much of you, understands your motives, your solitude, and you imagine he would be happy with anyone. It strikes you that is is not with anyone, and you find it hard to fathom that he would be without a partner to join him.

'Why are you alone, Chanyeol?' 

The question both sounds and feels abrupt, but he doesn't react unfavorably. Chanyeol pauses, crumpling the bag with one large fist, his earlier nod slowing but not halting. 

'I'm sorry if that's too personal,' you clarify, reminding yourself not everyone is running or needs to. You and he are different people, even if it feels as though you have become bound together, a sensation that accumulated over time, the same way nondescript, vague senses of time do.

How long have you been together? A while. 

How long have you known you love him? Not long.

'It's not,' he affirms, looking around for a bin before realizing there would not be one. Opening his bag, he licks his lips twice, wetting his mouth for the words he attempts to gather and drops the crumpled mess inside. 'It's not personal, it's just that there's no reason.' Raising his eyes to meet yours, he purses his lips in thought. 'I don't like waiting for adventure or waiting for someone to come with me. Maybe that's my flaw,' he suggests, resting his hands on the straps of his backpack as he straightens his spine. 'That I'm too impatient to properly share.'

'I don't think you need to have a flaw to want to be alone,' you reason, 'or that wanting to be alone is even a flaw at all.'

'Maybe,' he agrees, although passively. 'Come on. I want to show you the arcades.'

The game centers are a terrain you find impossible to imagine, to fathom, if you had not been given reference to start from. They pull you in from the street, yellow and red and blinding, luring you to them with the impossibly clear sheen of their glass containers. Chanyeol dives into a building, holding your hand once more and looking over his shoulder with a grin, leading you to a claw machine tucked towards the back of the room, away from heavy foot traffic.

Releasing your hand, he digs through his pockets for coins, gesturing towards a One Piece figurine he regards with competitive delight.

'I've been trying to get this since yesterday.'

The box stands tall, compressed between two plastic bars that grip it tightly, unforgiving in its hold. Your eyes narrow as you regard the stronghold the machine seems to have on the figurine, feeling confident that such a plight is futile, but he slides his coins in, lip caught between his teeth in thought as he aims the claw.

He takes great care in this process, hand delicately wrapped around the knob to guide and settle, calculated and focused. For a moment, you see him as an architect, an artist, a chemist, an alchemist, studied and careful, lovingly breathing life into things that currently do not exist. Triumphantly, he slaps the button to initiate contact, stepping back with eager interest as he watches the claw drop, the lights on the machine sparkling and playing music to maximize the tension. 

He is unsuccessful.

'Damn,' he curses, but still his smile remains, reaching up to his cheeks and replacing the dimple you did not know you missed.

Eyeing him conspicuously, you cock your head to the side, gaze moving between him and the machine. 'Isn't this all just a cash grab? A way to waste your money?'

'Sure,' he agrees, sliding another coin into the slot. 'But it's nice to forget for a while, isn't it? It's the thrill, the tangibility of maybe, possibly. Gambling thrives because the odds never appear to be out of our favor, and we all like proving ourselves wrong.'

The last few syllables to his words take on a lilt of loneliness, and you are unsure how to argue with him or this feeling, given that he does not leave any space for it. But, for a while, you are content to watch him, watch the way his smile never seems to disappear, not even from his eyes as he tries and loses and tries, and loses again. Six rounds pass and still he is unsuccessful, and you wonder when you got so engaged with the rise and fall of a claw, but you know the real question is: when did you get so addicted to a stranger who promises the world but delivers the sun, a man who never really lets joy die? 

When he leaves to go change a cash note for more coins, you depart too, in the opposite direction, the machine losing its glamour as soon as he disappears. Aimlessly, you wander, walking down aisles and rows, looking in without really looking, hoping to maybe find your own game to play. 

Around the corner from Chanyeol's game, you find a claw machine with a set of towels trapped inside, something you don't need, but remember needing, wanting, and putting on your registry with a soft smile, finally feeling optimistic about your future.

"We don't need these," he countered. "We've lived together for two years. Shouldn't we ask for money for the honeymoon? Something we can’t buy everyday?"

"That's practical, sure, but these are nice." They were so lovely. When you were young, you imagined having towels just like these once your got married - adult towels, wedding towels you sometimes called them - towels that proved you were Of Age and ready, but for what you did not know. 

Even now, you do not know.

You do not need these, but they're sweet, the characters of My Neighbor Totoro woven into the fabric and a silk lotus leaf shimmering in the light. You do not need these, much the same way Chanyeol likely does not need an anime figurine, but they are nice and they are charming, and there's something about the possibility of winning something, even if it is useless, that makes you slide a coin into the slot.

Time disappears around you, much the same as your money, but you don't think about that. Not truly. It's the first time you don't think about the loss or gain of money in years, mind falling back in time once more.

"Why don't we leave the list on the refrigerator?" he suggested, as though he were talking about a shopping list, a list of needs for the apartment, a bucket list.

"Do you want to?" you asked. But what what you meant to say was: I don't want people seeing how much I owe you. I don't want anyone to know how much we've invested in one another.

There's a nostalgia to the claw machine, something that feels like a regression and resulting in little else than making you feel young, as though you never really grew up at all. Somewhere along the way, you buried the child in your heart, tucked her deep inside and left her in the shadows, abandoning the sense of play that came with living. You're not sure how long you stand there, sliding coins and sliding the claw, focused and diligent, buying happiness rather than buying towels.

And when they fall into the slot, the thrill of success runs through your fingers, eyes wide in amazement because, yes, this was far easier than you thought it would be, and you stand still, shocked and pink with the joy of it. You blink a few times, lips parted in a daze, catching up with reality and yourself, remembering both the you you've become and the you you lost precisely at the same moment. 

'Did you win?'

Chanyeol's voice resonates around the room, enthusiastically encouraging and sounding pleased as the machine plays celebratory music. 

Glancing up at him, you're aware your expression appears torn, wanting to celebrate and wanting to return the towels, likely having paid far more than they were worth. But he beams at you, proud and happy, and you find that you are happy too. They are not adult towels, not even wedding towels, but they are yours - the first frivolous thing you've bought in years and the lack of consideration you gave to them feels impossibly, delightfully refreshing. 

'Yeah,' you laugh, unable to look away from the ecstasy that adorns his smile, 'I did.'

Chanyeol releases a yell and lifts his hand, demanding a high five, acting as though these towels are an award and offering you more praise than you deserve. 'Let me see.'

Pulling them from the slot, he leans over your shoulder, inadvertently tucking you against his chest, and sharing his warmth, his breath, his radiance. You settle against him, holding the box in your hands and admiring the neat stitching, wondering if you too could learn to embroider. But it feels natural, you think, to smile this much and to feel this warm and to win so easily, even if these experiences are transient at best. It feels natural under his chin and against his heartbeat, your hands clutching the plastic as a means of keeping them to yourself, wishing instead it was his hands you had won. 

It feels natural, hearing how vital he is and feeling how alive he is and knowing, with all of you, that underneath your years of pretend and experience and regret, you are exactly the same as him: enraptured by the beauty of the universe and demanding you hold it in your palms, never letting it go.

'These are so you,' he announces, breaking your thoughts with a low whisper.

You swallow thickly, always caught off guard when he's quiet and his voice takes on a rasp that makes him sound aged, beyond time. Looking up at him, you let yourself become awed by his soft expression, curious and enamoured. 'How do you know?' 

Again, your voice is breathless when speaking with him, and you wonder if this is truly his habit. If maybe, more than anything, his talent is taking your breath away.

'You're like Satsuki,' he says simply, as though this is answer enough. 'You're Satsuki and I'm Totoro.'

It's not an answer you expected, mind falling through the layers of such a statement as he departs from you. Is it his height that makes him Totoro? His propensity for cute, magical things? His service to you? Or, perhaps, his heart, his devotion and loyalty and awareness that you are alone, by choice but not really by desire, not anymore you think, his heart able to see straight to your core before you could grant yourself permission. 

Chanyeol returns before you can decide what he means, shaking a bag with the word WINNER printed over and over on the plastic. Wordlessly, he takes your towels and drops them inside, handing you the bag looking pleased.

'I wasn't nearly as successful,' he says with a small pout. 'But, I did get this.'

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a plush Rilakkuma keychain, the item almost dwarfed in his large palm. Immediately, you erupt into laughter.

'That's absolutely hideous.'

Chanyeol laughs too, giggling at the poorly sewn face and unsettling clown pattern. 'I know,' he says, happily. 'It's horrendous. I don't want it.'

'Then why did you bother?' you ask, laughter fading while your cheeks still ache from the force of your smile.

'Why wouldn't I?'

He simply shrugs, as elated with his success as he is yours, proud and proud and moving through the arcade back into the street, and taking the light with him.

Half past midnight and karaoke feels like the only logical thing to do, the only place you think you'd truly be welcome at this hour - the hour late, your body tired, but still unwilling to leave Chanyeol.

Throughout the day and all over the city, you'd seen the signs for a place called Big Echo, their sprawl and reach, white sign looming from the corner of some of the most menacing sky scrapers, enough to lure you in. Their contrast keeps you curious, office buildings standing above you, higher than most buildings you remember seeing in other cities, windows black and impenetrable with a sign that heralds hours of karaoke. It's impossible to understand, and you are glad for this incongruity. 

Most of all, you find you are hungry. Chanyeol kept you out in Akihabara well past dinner, dining on street food and winding from arcade to arcade, and now, emerging from Shibuya station, you are looking for something more to fill your stomach. He pulls you along, links your arms together as you walk, bound and united and happy, holding you against him as though it is where you belong. 

This late at night, Shibuya makes your eyes hurt, the colours and signs frenetic and fractious in their vibrancy, demanding your attention, your focus, perhaps even your soul. Chanyeol's eyes sparkle as he looks from sign to sign, smiling upwards at nothing at all while you smile directly at him, keeping your gaze trained on his ecstatic pleasure in the effort of ensuring your heart gets used to it. 

You know that it won't, that no matter how long you spend with him you will always be caught off guard by his beauty, by the way even his dark hair appears illuminated in these lights. He seems to eat the stars while the light feasts on him, a give and take of reciprocal lumosity and, somehow, you have been selected to watch. Even in a crowd as immense as this, you know you'd find him, drawn to him, heart seeking its magnet. 

Standing on Shibuya crossing, Chanyeol pulls you close, rests his free hand on your arm and leans gingerly to your ear, close enough to feel his breath move through your hair. Naturally and instinct, you lean into him, positive that you will likely never be close enough, hoping and wishing that his lips will graze your skin, thinking you might finally know the true definition of bliss in the wake of such a happy accident.

'When we cross,' he says, close enough to rest his head against yours, lips kissing at the shell of your ear as he speaks and your heart breaking and reshaping in one single instant, 'don't let go of me. Don't let go but make sure you watch.'

'I won't,' you say, tightening your grip even though a crowd like this does not phase you, Times Square at Christmas an entirely different sort of test. But you tighten anyway, keeping him close, certain that he will try to rush ahead of you and, for just this once, you want him to be yours. 'I won't.'

The crossing sign turns green and all at once you are taken by it, moving forward as though something as simple as this has purpose, meaning, a symbolism of initiation you will bear as a cross. A smile pulls at your lips, widening with each step, feeling anonymous and feeling terribly insignificant, drowning in a sea of people with Chanyeol as your oar. 

Someone laughs. You think it might be you. Another takes a picture. You know it is not Chanyeol. Lifetimes and stories pass you by, and you are drunk on it, wired into obsession simply because you feel as though you've crossed the world again and again, forty steps and still more angles to traverse the same path, new ways to witness the same thing. Different people, the same shape, nothing ever really the same again.

The Big Echo is tucked inside a dark amber building housing offices, stores, and restaurants. The elevator to the eighth floor seems far too elegant to be taking you to karaoke, a place where most people drink to celebrate or drink to forget or simply drink, aware that it is Friday or Sunday and the weekend has passed by with the same unyielding speed as life itself. Comprised of floor to ceiling mirrors, you and Chanyeol, standing side by side, are eternally, endlessly refracted into infinity. 

Yet, in every reflection, every angle, all you can truly see is him.

At such close proximity, the closest you've ever really been - with no way out and only one way in - and the most alone you've ever been, you are suddenly aware of his strength and magnitude. Eyes drawn to the length of his arms, you regard the veins that rise as canyons down to his hands, keeping the secret of his power within his knuckles and joints. The tattoos adorning the skin captivate you, their pointillism blackness so rich and detailed, standing out on him better than you've ever seen on anyone else, the darkness resting on him with the same pride as the light. 

Lifting your gaze, you study the regal line of his posture, the confidence rooted in his spine and shoulders, and feel your fingers twitch. You have held men before, held a lover in your arms and against your body, aware of the weight and aware of the heat, but never have you wanted to hold anyone quite so solidly, or quite so physically. 

You wait for him to stop you, so obvious in focus you devote to his features, but he does not, simply inches closer, wordlessly encouraging your stare. And you do, letting yourself become haunted by the slope of his lips, the false phantom memory of their touch igniting along your skin. Perhaps it is your awareness of his dimples, the clandestine softness he keeps nestled at the corner of his mouth, that keeps you on the edge of anticipation, hoping and hoping to see them again. 

Like this, you drink him in, admiring the tips of his ears and the thick, softness of his hair that makes your fingers begin to ache. How would it feel to card your fingers through the strands? Would he smile and lean into the touch? Would he watch you, eyes wide and speechless at the gentleness you'd provide? Would he ask you to do it again and again, craving your hand and your warmth, as badly as you seem to be craving his? 

This was always your biggest flaw, you think, hyper aware of your detachment and the way your mind would always wander. During sex, during dinner, during long drives, or even during conversation. Always, he would find you looking away, looking nowhere, hearing without listening, seeing without witnessing, and he would call you back, asking where you went. 

But you always wanted to say the most important thing was that you looked back. Always, you would return to him.

With Chanyeol, it’s impossible to be anywhere other than absolutely with him, resolutely and down to your core. To look away from him would mean pain; to break away from him would hurt, sever parts of you long buried but still connected, still whole, still vital, just neglected. And the same way you refuse to depart from him, so too does your skin refuse to truly let him go. The press of his body against yours is a preview to all the wishes that settle on you like a fever, sending a flush of heat up your chest and neck, and down to your thighs, wanting to be full of him.

And so you don’t look away. You simply won’t, aware and waiting, feeling his touch before and without it happening, imagination running wild while your heart battles against your sternum.

Feeling your gaze on him, he turns to look at you, on floor six when there's so little time to truly have all of him, but he blushes, receptive to the ferocity of you. Bags have taken root under his eyes, exhausted by a day of sightseeing, and giving him a puffy, purple hue, but he’s glorious in the mess of it, unable to be anything but majestic.

He keeps his eyes on you, unwavering and demanding, the most demanding he's been since you met him, turning his chest towards yours hardening, not in cruelty but with a sensuality you did not expect to see. Like this, he makes you aware that he does not only feel your gaze but relishes it, feels it deeper than you mean it to go. With one hand, he clenches the evaluator railing, leaning closer and closer while his other clenches into a fist before straightening, touching while touching nothing. 

And with his eyes on you, your body wanting his body, the air in the elevator becomes thick, elevating your heart rate the same way it elevates you.

When the elevator dings, he breaks from you, lips parted and eyes searching, pupils dilated for a different kind of light and a different kind of relief. His strides are quick where yours are sluggish, wanting to remain in the bubble of desire that cradled you. But he looks back, lips wet from where his tongue has just been, knowing you are there and unable to look away.

You smile, rolling your shoulders back to lift your breasts, following blindly while not really following at all. 

Settled in your private room, Chanyeol orders more food than you know what to do with, his only explanation that you said you were hungry before he takes a skewer of yakitori into his mouth, consuming it all in one go as he chooses a list of songs. His fingers are quick, selecting a number of songs and creating a queue before you even read the titles.

'I've only ever done this when I was drunk,' you admit, eyeing the digital pad with apprehension before you find the button that says ENGLISH. 

'Really?' He adds a second songs, not lifting his gaze to you in the process. 'It's the most fun when you're sober.'

'It's the most embarrassing, I think you mean.' Looking up, you see he has already added nine songs. ‘How often do you do this?’

‘All the time,’ he beams. 'You just need to do it with people you trust.'

Chanyeol hits start, rising to a stand before taking another skewer into his mouth. Grabbing both microphones, he keeps his eyes trained on you and winks as Time of My Life Starts to play. The absurdity of it patterned with the sudden darkness of the room and the glow of a disco ball makes you laugh, watching him with a grin you know to be adoring, but don’t bother to mask. 

'God, this song?' you laugh, rooting yourself to the floor. ‘Shall I be Jennifer and you be Bill?’

Refusing to let you sit still and hide in the shadows, he offers you the second microphone, eyeing you in earnest.

'Come on,’ he says, flicking the microphone in a gesture of lifting and delivering you to him.

'You're serious.’

You’ve done karaoke countless times, watched drunk friends and bad friends sing off key, or on no key, demanding attention and turning the evening into a concert about their pain, their nostalgia, their childhood, simply themselves. Any silliness or playfulness is always overrun by the desire to be seen, but Chanyeol holds the microphone, totally sober and fully prepared to abandon himself and his ego. 

'Deadly.' The melody begins to play, yellow words turning pink, and he pouts. 'Look, you made me miss my cue.'

He doesn’t wait for your response, just places the mic in your hand and walks backwards towards the center of the room, keeping his eyes locked on yours. His eyes remain on yours as he starts to sing, exuding the kind of energy that says he could command a room if he so chose, and is aware of it. Walking into a bar with him would be like watching into a bar and watching every head turn, all eyes on him and you knowing the eyes are their eyes are there, challenging you to feel doubtful.

Chanyeol is talented, voice rich and warm, chocolate that drips down into your soul, nestling inside your blood to bring you comfort. You almost keep silent, content to spend the night listening to the way his mouth gives shape to words, the way his voice handles syllables with a tonality that speaks of unpracticed, natural ability. But he eyes you, expectant, and when you finally join him you regret not having done so sooner.

The smile he offers you is blinding, warm enough to combat the dawn, content, just as you were, to watch you for the rest of the evening. At the end of your first verse, he claps against the mic, delighted and proud, watching you with a focus he had not devoted to anything else throughout the day.

For you, karaoke comes as a relief. Having spent the majority of your life singing, it hits you, abruptly, that it has been years since you last did it freely. Moving in with a roommate boxed you in, kept you quiet in ways you weren’t sure you wanted to be, afraid of being annoying, inconvenient, or of judgement, and so you stopped. Moving in with a partner, making a home and a life, rather than a room, you tried again, only to find that this desire, too, soon began to fade.

Did he ask you to? Did he ever demand you keep quiet? You can't remember. Perhaps you just did so, returning from the shower one night to find his greeting and welcome cool, so unlike the way his smiles used to feel like champagne. You thought, then, it was your singing, a distraction from late night emails or work, but now, with Chanyeol, you think maybe it was something more, something not about you, taking on his anguish just because you thought you should.

From the start, he makes it easy and fun, song after song of terrible pop music, several you’ve never heard and others you know, and wish, secretly, that you did not. But it does not matter if the music is good or bad or even music at all because, with him, every sound is a work of art. And, with him, everything is easy. He doesn’t mention if a note is wrong and does not cringe or skip a song if he does not like it, he simply cheers, drinking and eating and laughing, joining when he knows the words and watching when he doesn’t. 

Somewhere around 2AM, the alcohol refuses to leave you, your limbs heavy and restless, eager for hands and for touch, and eager to be held. At some point, he curled into you and over you, tucking you under his arm, light hearted and light headed, his nose pressed into your hair and yours into you his chest, breathing the bergamot musk into your lungs, deep enough for them to ache.

'It's going to hurt to leave you,' you announce, staring blankly at the screen. 

An old woman reaches through her window to stoke the head of a yellow sparrow. The scene changes, a school girl running for her train. It changes again, none of the scenes depicted cohesive or coherent, but they bring you comfort, a confirmation that life is little more than a series of impressions. 

Chanyeol moves away from you briefly, looking down at you with a small frown, lips red and wet with sake. He appears hurt, pained that you’d bring up such a suggestion, as though the alcohol has removed him from time entirely. 

It would be so easy to giggle, but such a feeling is hard when you’re this drunk and this afraid of losing him. 'Don't look at me like that,' you hiss. 'It will make me want to kiss you.'

He only blinks once before he takes your face between your palms, firm and commanding, and kisses you, pulling you close against him as though he’d been waiting all day to feel you. Your hands wind around his neck, pressing against him as much as you can, ensuring that he has to tilt to keep kissing you, angling himself in the accommodating way that comprises all of the best kisses. A small noise of pleasure leaves his chest, and you smile against him, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth, invigorated.

Lifting his head, the heat in his gaze is threatening, jaw set and unwavering in the knowledge that he will not let you go so easily. A hand on your hip glides up your spine, sending a shiver up into your shoulders, as he fists a hand in your hair and tugs it, exposing the full length of your neck to him. Chanyeol latches his tongue and teeth to the tendon, rubbing circles into your hip with the same pressure his tongue provides your skin. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, grinding down into him once more for a reprieve, but he bites, hard enough to leave teeth marks and moans, a roll of thunder in his chest that makes your thighs clench. 

At your core, Chanyeol's cock strains, the hard thickness of it causing wetness to pool at your underwear, eyes rolling back and vision hazy as he sucks and sucks at you, refusing to let you be free of him. 

When he pulls away, your pulse quakes, blood rushing hot and heavy as you watch him, mouth wet and eyes dark, memory forever etched with the way he looks at you - certain you are the epitome of craving, and you, certain that he is all of your desires made manifest.

His gaze falls to your neck once more, a prideful grin pulling at his lips.

'Don't cover that mark tomorrow,' he demands, voice full of gravel. 'I want everyone to see it.' 

Tomorrow. Today. Now. Time catching up with you all at once, shattering the drunken eternity you've created in this room. You think about waking up without him. You think of who you will be when he is not there. You feel yourself sober up, and hate it. Perhaps, you hate yourself, the feeling sickly and full of regret. 

You lean down to kiss him once more, wanting to feel sheltered, but he leans away from you, eyes sensitive and scared.  

'Are you still with him?' he whispers, nervous but unafraid of the question’s inherent weight, the edge of uncertainty falling in the spaces between the words.

Keeping silent, you blink at him, feeling your stomach drop.

'Your fiancé,' he presses, as though there is someone else you could have been with. 'Are you still together?'

Still you do not speak, unsure of the answer or if there is anyone apart from Chanyeol. In truth, had you ever actually been with anyone else?

'You're not wearing a ring.'

Chanyeol's voice is small, withering beneath your silence and coming up with reasons he should not be so scared. His eyes search your face, hoping for an affirmation or a confirmation, anything that would give him permission and you watch, once again, as you become a vicious thing, leaving men crestfallen in your wake. 

'No, I don't want to be with him,' you murmur, aware, beyond any shadow of doubt that this statement is true. 'I know that I don't - '

Chanyeol interrupts you, the hope in his voice sharp as glass. 'So I can keep kissing you?'

You furrow your brow, feeling yourself sober up, and wishing for the warm bubble of pretend to return. 'What do you want out of this?' you ask anyway, shattering your sense of idealism. 

He flinches at your question, the words sending him reeling as though they are an act of betrayal. 'Just you.'

You snort, the natural humor of the sound absent. 'You're drunk.'

He narrows his eyes, defensive. 'I'm not that drunk.'

'What will you do tomorrow?' you counter. 'It's just one night, Chanyeol.'

'Does it have to be?' he tries, the optimism he carries making acid rise in your chest. 

For a moment, you try to picture it - another day with him, another day holding his hand and laughing, making noise, making a mess, making something. It's hard to fathom you'd be the only one he'd choose to do this with, and so you mirror his expression, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. 

'Do you have a girlfriend?' You don't mean for the words to sound so biting, but you feel possessive, hating yourself for it, knowing you don't have the right but letting it move through your blood, regardless. 'A boyfriend?'

'No?' he says quickly, offended. 'Do you think I'd be here if I did?'

'I don't know,' you shrug. 

It's hard to imagine he wouldn't have someone wanting to follow him, someone impatient to share things with him, to see as he sees and to laugh and cry and yell as loud as he does. Impossible, you think, to imagine him alone, and so you justify your questions with the sense that he deserves someone, even if you don't deserve him. 

But Chanyeol still sees through you, does not let you escape or make it about him, his expression becoming hard. 'Not everyone is running, Y/N.'

Leaning back, you frown. 'I didn't say you'd be running.' 

Sliding off his hips, you settle back on the couch, facing the screen and not him, neither afraid nor unwilling to look at him, mostly uncertain what it would mean for you if you did. All day, his eyes on you have been pretty. You're not sure you can handle another cold stare. 

'Is it so hard to fathom that I could want to spend all day with you, because I want to?' he demands, words curt and tone clipped.

Bristling, you look at him, falling back into a pattern of control and detachment, heart breaking all over again, this time infinitely, indescribably worse. 'I don't know. Maybe? Strangers don't do this.'

He laughs, the sound empty. 'This is how a lot of people meet. You're just so used to your boxed structure.'

It happens quickly, the firing of your nerves that tell you to leave, the motions of your hands as you gather your things, messy and disorganized. You did this before, not long ago, mind vacant and body acting in its own reaction, but this time, you are present. This time, you are aware of the hurtful experience of running, hurting yourself, for the first time, in the process.

'This was a bad idea,' you mumble, hearing yourself say it and hating that you do. 

Chanyeol stands, moving to stop you before stopping himself, the boundaries suddenly drawn and nowhere for him to fit. 'No, please don't -'

You cut him off, moving past him towards the door. 'I'll pay for my share at the till.'

Chanyeol reaches for you, but you're already too far, far beyond the length of his arms. 'No, please - '

The sound of his voice echoes, even after the door shuts.

Shibuya without Chanyeol is cold, more shades of blue than you had noticed before, and you shiver, dropping your bag to put on your coat. Even with it wrapped tightly around you, you still shiver, missing him but, mostly, missing yourself. 

The trains are no longer running - you remember reading this before you came, preparing for a city that only pretends to sleep - but Shibuya is still busy. The faces surrounding you are no longer fascinating or full of stories, but the gaunt faces of the lost and lonely, the tired and groups of people too social to notice they are actually alone. 

You're not sure how long you stand on the sidewalk, watching people pass and wondering where you fit with them. Do their eyes follow you too, the sake still warm on your cheeks but your eyes alive with rage and frustration and sadness? Do they watch you cry? It's strange, you think, to feel parts of yourself become damp with emotion while the rest of you remains still and expressionless. 

Strange, you think, to remember the person you were when you were drunk, drunk on Chanyeol, drunk since 9AM, at the same time as you remember and relearn this you, the sober you, who misses Chanyeol more than the man you signed a lease with. 

'Please don't run away from me like that again.'

Chanyeol's voice emerges behind you, sounding breathless and terrified, but commanding. In this, he is unwavering, delivering an order as though he as the right. 

Turning to face him, you crumble, seeing the wetness at his cheeks that mirrors your own, the mess of his hair, and the change you've brought onto him. Now, he does not smile. Now, he does not glow, the light stolen by your hands and your words, reducing him to an ashen state of grief. 

'Isn't that dangerous, Chanyeol?' you try, focusing on keeping your voice calm. 'That you don't want me to? We don't know each other.'

He takes several steps closer, not letting you get away. 'I'm telling you I want to get to know you.'

'I leave everyone first.' You're not sure what it is about him that makes you say this, his eyes and his desperation pulling your greatest anxiety from your chest, but you keep talking, hoping he didn't hear and hoping he's still too drunk to care. 'I'm not worth this and I have a mess back home. I don't even know where you live?' 

He laughs, looking past you momentarily, patronizing were it not for the shimmer of tears on his cheeks. 'Geography doesn't really matter when you have technology.'

'So, what?' you counter, bewildered. 'You want to date me? After a day?'

'No!' he says, looking back at you, running a hand through his hair. 'I don't know!'

'That's the point, Chanyeol!' Hearing your voice echo through the air, you look around, silently apologizing for interrupting the conversations of those around you, but there is no one, just you and him, and the eyes of everyone else not on you. 'You're so used to just going through it alone and making a fantasy out of everything. That's not real! There's nothing about that mindset that lasts!'

'And what about you?' he counters without hesitation. 'Acting like you know me when you've been too selfish to ask anything all day, talking about yourself even when you're trying to talk about me?'

Blinking at him, you regard him in silence, thinking back on the day and the words you've shared and the questions you've asked and realize he's right. Throughout the day, Chanyeol has been nothing but himself, unapologetically forthcoming when the question is asked, honest and supportive, and completely unselfish. Now, with him standing before you, looking empowered and looking violent in his need to be understood, you realize you'd only let yourself see half of him.

And this part, this new, emboldened part, excites you even more than the softness he carries.

'You got hurt,' he finishes, jaw set and tense, 'but you and I both know you hurt yourself.' 

It's the fury in Chanyeol's eyes that ignites you, the raw and vulnerable tether to the totality of human emotion that puts a flame in the center of your chest, warming you and waking you. You cannot recall the last time you've seen someone mad, or had an argument that felt just as wild and passionate and important as you needed it be. Years have passed in which you were never allowed to be angry, only sad, the fire in your chest deemed dangerous, and brutal, and cruel, and absolutely never meant to be shared.

Years where every expression of emotion went against the way you needed it to feel - productive and intense and whole - reduced and belittled to just the embers of grief.

'You're right,' you admit, honest in your concession but still unforgiving in your honesty. 'I unmade myself for someone totally wrong for me. But you can't tell me you think you can be that hero. Don't be naive enough to think you can heal me. You know nothing about me.'

"I am constantly saving you from yourself!" you shouted, smiling at the way your voice sounded, beautiful in its natural timber of loudness. 

The paradoxical contrast of how it sounded to how you felt - exhausted, burdened - made you want to laugh, but you held back, aware that one battle cry was enough for the evening. 

"Why are you so angry?" he pleaded, the shallow edge to his voice infuriating you. “Why do you always resort to anger?”

"I can't be your wife and also be your hero. I don’t have that in me." 

A death sentence. A gesture that would permanently be yours.

'I've been watching you put yourself back together all day,' Chanyeol retorts, matching the volume of your voice. 'All day it's been you, doing things because you want to, not because you had to. I know, with confidence, that you don't need me. But I'm saying I still want to be here. For you. I had too good of a time with you for it to mean nothing.'

The passion and raw veracity in his tone sends you reeling, and you sway, at once unsteady in this feeling. In one day, just one day, Chanyeol has proved he knows how to fight for you, the way you always needed someone to - with violence and impatience and a blunt, almost menacing honesty. You'd softened yourself for someone, surrendered pieces of yourself in the acceptance of comfort, neither love nor desire nor attraction, just safety, assuming this is what it meant to feel secure.

In one fell swoop, Chanyeol had unmade you, unmade these falsehoods and rendered you back together, somehow already having learned the map and the truth of you. 

And as you watch him, chest heaving as though he had been to war and won; arms crossed over his chest, in victory rather than defense, you agree, smiling, aware that you haven't felt this good about anyone, not once, not in your whole life.  

'I know what you mean,' you murmur, knowing that he hears you, would likely always hear you.

As if he's had enough of being apart from you, he steps forward, unfurling his arms and reaching for your hand, twining your fingers together. Whole conversations live and die between you, conversations that don't require words, the understanding that there is no requirement to have your plans defined, the mess of learning one another and learning your way through connection infinitely more exciting. Forehead resting against yours, he closes his eyes and breathes deep, his inhale uneven and warped with emotion. 

'Come back to my hotel with me,' he whispers, keeping his eyes closed.

Closing your own eyes, you smile. 'Okay.' It feels good to take this risk, to be uncertain and to be passionate and keep him for as long as you are allowed. 'I have to go back to mine for clothes.' 

Pulling away from you, he extends his hand, impatient. 'Let me see your phone.'

When you hand it to him, he opens the camera and leans down for a selfie, and this time, you make a face you haven't made since you were twenty-six and standing on the precipice of choosing security - you cross your eyes and stick out your tongue.

Chanyeol laughs, a messy uneven sound that makes you blush as you watch him stare at the picture.  

Returning to the home screen, he presses the home button and turns it to face you. 'Unlock this for me?'

Pulling out his own phone, he calls himself and adds the numbers to both, intently focused on this task as though it is his lifeline. You remember getting the number of your ex - the man you left behind and have no desire to return to - and how getting that number felt practical, a need in order to coordinate rides to work or rides to mutual friends houses. A passionless exchange that grew into the pretense of passion, empty of chemistry from the moment you typed the digits.  

'There,' he says, handing your phone back. 'Now we won't lose each other.'

Staring at his number, his name, the sakura flower emoji on either side of the letters, you smile, feeling twitterpated. 'You're serious about this, aren't you?'

'There's so much about me you don't know.' His smile is devilish, possessive. 'I'm greedy and impulsive, and right now I'm selfish. I want you to myself. I never make promises, but I promise you right now I believe there's something here.'

It's the kind of things you would have said before you had to change or settle for someone who kept you comfortable, safe but entirely not yourself. Long ago, at a bar or in bed or on a street with someone who made you feel wanted, you would have said these same things. 

Had the tables been turned, you would have said them to Chanyeol - you imagine you will say them to him, different words with the same impact.

'Let me get my things.' A statement with no direction, your eyes wandering over the streets looking for a taxi or a landmark to center your location in relation to your hotel. 'I gave you breakfast yesterday,' you say, glancing at him with a coy grin. 'It's your turn.'

Chanyeol laughs. 'You got it.'

Unable to contain it, he leans down to kiss you once more, pulling you flush against him and kissing you first with his soul and then with his mouth. Now, you are completely sober, the cool night breeze and Chanyeol's rough words having dissolved the alcohol and your light sense of affection, replacing it with the fervor of ardor you'd been aching for. With his hands on you, pressing into the muscles of your back, and his lips moving against yours, smiling and laughing and kissing you over and over, you realize it's the first time you've ever felt anything from a kiss.

Now, you let him swallow your breath whole, willingly and without protest. He kisses you until you feel dizzy. He kisses you until you both are gasping, until you remember these sorts of displays are unfit for Japanese streets, and you break apart laughing at the thrill of breaking rules.

'I've never wanted to do that with anyone as much as I want to with you,' he admits, resting his forehead against yours once more, looking bashful.

You hum, attempting to prolong your absence from him. 'Me too.'

Slowly, you pull away from him, separating only when you absolutely must, Chanyeol holding into your hand until he absolutely cannot anymore. You walk backwards, much like he did at karaoke and much like you think you will always do, never wanting to look away from him. 

When you finally do, you pull out your phone, walking in a direction you assume to be correct while you open the map on your phone.

Your phone rings.

A laugh erupts from your chest.

You pick up the call. 

[abrakophile]

I was looking through a bunch of junk and found some letters from my dad when he was in the army. I’m afraid I'll accidently toss them, so maybe I’ll put them here?

OPs Name JUNE 02 03

I LOVE YOU

THIS IS MY NAME IN KURDISH

*my dad wrote his first and last name, and under it, in Kurdish*

ILL TRY AND FIND OUT HOW TO WRITE YOUR NAME AND MOMS TOO.

ITS STILL HOT. I WORK AND READ BOOKS TO PASS THE TIME AWAY.

HOW ARE YOU DOING? GOOD I HOPE. WHAT DO YOU DO FOR FUN? DO YOU EVER HANG OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS? TELL THEM I SAID “WASSUP?” NAH, DONT TELL THEM. TELL ME WHAT YOUR THINKING. I’M TRYING TO SEND YOU SOME MORE OF MY DRAWINGS. WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DRAW YOU? DID YOU LIKE THE DRAWING I SENT YOU OF YOU NAME? ITS ALRIGHT IF YOU DIDNY. JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU DO WANT ME TO DRAW YOU.

(Flip Page)

THIS IS WEIRD! (The page does not have lines on the left side of it) i WONDER WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS PIECE OF PAPER. HaHa

I MISS YOU ALOT. PLEASE SOND ME SOME MORE OF YOUR DRAWINGS, YOU CAN DRAW ME ANYTHING YOU WANT TO.

ARE YOU BEING GOOD FOR YOUR MOM? ITS NICE IF YOU HELP HER OUT WHILE I’M AWAY.

HAVE YOU BEEN ANYPLACE NEW? HOW IS SCHOOL GOING FOR YOU? IS MOMMY GOING TO SCHOOL? I KNOW I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL WHEN I GET BACK. HOPEFULLY I GET THE CHANCE TO LEARN EVERYTHING THAT THERE IS TO KNOW. THAT WOULD BE GREAT.

ALSO, ID LIKE TO DO SOME FISHING? HOW ABOUT YOU? I GUESS ILL END HERE. BE GOOD AND STAY IN SCHOOL. AND JUST SAY NO TO DRUGS.

THEYRE BAD.

I LIVE YOU OP

*hearts and x’s* DADDY

---

(I don’t know if all these pages are in order or if it’s missing any, but this was the letter in the same stack as the last but this one was for my mom. In some places his indents indicate passage of time.)

I HAVENT HAD ANY TIME TO WRITE SINCE WEVE BEEN ON THE ROAD, NOT TO MENTION THAT WE CAN’T SEND MAIL WHEN WE’RE MOVING ALL THE TIME.

WEVE BEEN ON THE ROAD FOR ABOUT FIVE OR SIX DAYS, I HAVENT REALLY BEEN COUNTING. I KNOW I TOLD YOU THAT WE’D BE IN KUWAIT FOR A WHILE, BUT THAT WAS SO YOU WOULDNT BE WORRIED. I’M GOING TO KEEP THIS LETTER THOUGH, TILL I GET HOME.

ABOUT TWO NIGHTS AGO, WE DROVE THROUGH BAGDHAD, SOMEBODY SAID THAT THERE WERE PILED BODIES, I DONT KNOW IF IT WAS TRUE.

AND I GUESS YESTERDAY, A COUPLE OF PEOPLE SAID THEY SAW A MISSILE OR SOEMTHING SHOT AT US. I WAS TRYING TO FIX A TRUCK SO I DIDNT SEE IT.

ITS NOT AS DUSTY HERE IN IRAQ. IT REMINDS ME OF THE CONVOYS IN KOREA.

MOST OF THE PEOPLE WILL WAVE “HI”. SOME OTHERS DONT.

I SAW A KID OPEN HIS HAND ONCE WHILE MOVING, AND IT SAID “BUSH” THAT WAS KIND OF COOL.

OH YEAH. HERES A STORY. WHILE OUT DOING A MISSION, ONE OF OUR “BRADLEY” TANKS FIRED ON AN ENEMY AMMO TRUCK AND CLIPPED A KID. THE ROUNDS BLEW ONE OF HIS LEGS OFF AND SOME OF THE OTHER, FROM THE KNEE DOWN. SO THE MEDICS PICKED HIM UP AND BROUGHT HIM TO OUR RECONCOLIDATING POINT FOR MEDICAL TREATMENT. I GUESS HE EVENTUALLY DIED FROM LOSS OF BLOOD THE NEXT NIGHT AND YESTERDAY THEY TOOK HIM OUT AND BURIED HIM.

ALSO WE PICKED UP ABOUT 25-30 P.O.W.s AND SENT THEM SOUTH.

IT GETS PRETTY COLD AT NIGHT. AND THE DAY’S ARE VERY HOT.

SINCE WE LEFT KUWAIT ITS BEEN ME AND MENDOZA IN THE FIVE TON WRECKER AND I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT ITS BEEN EXCITING. WE KEPT GETTING SEPERATED FROM THE CONVOY AND BREAKING DOWN. BUT I THINK THAT WERE BETTER NOW. HOPEFULLY.

IM STILL WAITING TO BE AMBUSHED TO MAKE ALL THIS SEEM REAL TO ME. A PART OF ME WANTS IT AND ANOTHER DOESNT.

AND IT SEEMS LIKE ONLY OUR UNIT HAS TO STAY IN UNIFORM, EVERYONE ELSE WEARS T-SHIRTS AND BANDENA’S AND RAGS ON THEIR HEAD

WERE STILL GOING NORTH. NOBODY KNOWS HOW LONG WE’LL STAY. ITS NOT THAT BAD HERE. MEANING, IT COULD BE WORSE. 

I USED A “SHIT-CHAIR”. ITS JUST A METAL CHAIR WITH A HOLE CUT IN THE MIDDLE AND THE SEAT FROM A TOILET BOLTED TO IT, GROSS.

HELICOPTERS CAN BE HEARD ALL DAY AND NIGHT. I GOT TO SEE THEM DROP BOMBS ALL DAY ABOUT 3 DAYS AGO, FROM A DISTANCE OF COURSE.

ILL BE DRIVING AGAIN, IN A MINUTE. PROBABLY RE-FUEL AND BACK ON THE ROAD AGAIN. IM ENJOYING IT.

I HAVE 8 MAGAZINES FULL OF ROUNDS. NO GRENADES, BUT I LIKE IT LIKE THAT.

SOMETIMES IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT.

I GUESS ILL END IT HERE FOR NOW

I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU TWO TWICE IF NOT THRICE AS MUCH AS YOU MIGHT MISS ME TOO.

HELLO AGAIN. WERE SOMEWHERE NEAR TIKRI + MOSUL. YESTERDAY, ME + MENDOZA WENT LOOKING FOR MOMENTO’S. WE BROKE A LOCK TO A NEAR BY BUNKER AND FOUND 6 A.K.47s! BUT ON OUR WAY BACK TO TURN THEM IN, MAJOR TATU GOT THEM FROM US. I WAS SO PISSED. BUT I GOT A GAS MASK w/ FILTER, A FULL MAGAZINE CLIP FROM ONE OF THE A.K.s AND A BERET WITH IRAQ 1 RANK ON IT.

I MADE A STENCIL FOR THE TRUCK WERE RIDING IN. ITS CALLED THE “GAMBLER.” YESTERDAY MENDOZA DROVE, SO TODAY ILL BE DRIVING.

IM NOT POSITIVE, BUT, I THINK WERE GOING TO TURKEY. NIETO SAYS THAT HE OVERHEARD SOMEBODY FROM S1 (or SI, I’m not sure) SAYING WE MIGHT GET PAID EXTRA FOR GOING THROUGH BAGHDAD.

I THINK NIETO’S MAD AT ME. CANT EXPLAIN WHY. MAYBE ITS BECAUSE IM RIDING WITH MENDOZA AND HE DOESNT LIKE MENDOZA TOO MUCH. OH WELL, WHATEVER REASON, HOPE THINGS GET NORMAL AGAIN. HAVE TO GO,

*hearts and xs*

TODAY IS THE 25th OF APRIL, I RECEIVED FIVE OR SIX (OR SEVEN) LETTERS YESTERDAY. THE LATEST WAS DATED 07 OF APRIL. THAT TELLS ME THAT ITS GOING TO TAKE A WHILE TO COMMUNICATE.

WE HAVENT RECEIVED MAIL BECAUSE WEVE BEEN MOVING NEVER STAYING IN ONE PLACE MORE THAN A DAY, OR TWO, UNTIL NOW. WE’VE BEEN IN THIS SPOT GOING ON FOUR DAYS TOMORROW?!

GIVE ME A MINUTE...

FOR THE LAST COUPLE OF DAYS IVE BEEN HELPING MENDOZA PULL THE ENGINE OUT OF A 5 TON TRUCK AND SWITCH IT w/ ANOTHER ONE. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASY BUT THE FLY WHEEL SEIZED UP INSIDE THE BELL HOUSING. ITS FINISHED NOW AND THE RUMOR IS WE’RE LEAVING  (OR MOVING) AGAIN TOMORROW.

ITS 10:33 THURSDAY MORNING. YOUR TIME IS 12:32 JUST TURNING THURSDAY.

I ALMOST CRYED WHEN I SAW ELIS PICTURE. I REALLY MISS BOTH OF YOU. LET ME BACK TO BEFORE I GOT DISTRACTED. I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO SEND MAIL BECAUSE WE’VE BEEN MOVING. BUT I GUESS THAT WHATEVER THREAT THERE WAS (IF ANY), ISNT SO THREATFUL ANYMORE, WE CAN START RECEIVING AND SENDING MAIL. NO PHONE TO CALL FROM, AND NO INTERNET TO E-MAIL FROM.

THE WHOLE UNIT IS SCATTERED, SO EVEN IF I GET WHAT YOU NEED IT’LL TAKE FOREVER TO GET IT TO YOU. LET ME PULL THOSE LETTERS BACK OUT. OH WAIT. I DID LAUNDRY AND SOME UNDERWEAR THATS DRY, FELT HARD, OH WELL, WAIT A SECOND, K

I HAD TO FOLD SOME T-SHIRTS. ALL MY SOCKS ARE STILL DAMP. 

YOU CAN USE MY CONTRACT TO SHOW THAT I ENLISTED IN TEXAS AND HOWS THIS

*On a separate sheet my dad wrote a detailed note for my mom to give to someone to confirm that he did want to buy a house. He writes “I AM ALIVE AND WELL.” and “PLEASE ACCEPT THIS PAPER”, then he signed it with his scribble signature, and underneath it wrote his name in print and added “1st SQUADRON 10th CAVALRY HEADQUARTERS TROOP (I have no clue what this means)*

HOW’S THAT? HOPE I SPELLED EVERYTHING CORRECTLY. IM ALMOST READY WITH A DESIGN TO COVER THE OTHER TATTOOS ON MY LEFT FOREARM.

I JUST FINISHED LOOKING OVER ALL THOSE LETTERS YOU SENT FOR ME

IM BACK! I GOT SLEEPY SO I TRYED TO LAY DOWN FOR A LITTLE BIT. NO SLEEP. I DONT THINK. I DIDNT HAVE ENOUGH WATER TO WASH MY DCV’S AND A PAIR OF BDV’S. BESIDES FOR DRINKING WATER, BUT WE HAVE TO CONSERVE IT.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE RUMORS. TOMORROW WE’LL BE LEAVING FOR THE IRAN/IRAQ BORDER TO DO “PEACE KEEPING” FOR 3 TO 6 mths. OTHERS SAY THAT THE 4ID (i think is what this says) GENERAL WANTS TO KEEP US HERE TILL NOV., THATS WHEN 1 CAV WILL COME TO REPLACE US. WHILE OTHERS SAY WE MIGHT LEAVE BY JUNE. NOTHINGS FOR SURE.

SMALLER RUMORS FLOATING AROUND THE SITE ARE; RAMSEY AND SFC BACON ARE SLEEPING TOGETHER. SGT SIREK HAS PLANS TO TAKE NIETO AS HIS APPRENTICE AND PADIWAN LEARNER OF THE DARK SIDE. LITTLE BLACK ARNOLD IS MILITARY INTELLIGENCE FOR SPECIAL FORCES OPERATING UNDER COVER A SURVEILLENCE AS PART OF

*the rest of the page is blank*

IM BACK. TODAY IS THE 27th. I GOT BACK TO THE LITTLE CAMP AREA ABOUT AN HOUR AND A HALF AGO. I LEFT YESTERDAY MORNING TO, WELL, AS PART OF DE-CON (DE-CONTAMINATION) MISSION. HERES THE INFORMATION THAT I GATHERED.

A SITE HAD BEEN FOUND THAT WAS THOUGHT TO HAVE CHEMICAL WEAPONS AND 1-10 WAS APPOINTED TO GO TO THE SITE AND DE-CON THE CIVILIANS THAT WERE GOING TO OPEN THEM. AS IT TURNS OUT THE CIVILIANS HAVE BEEN DE-LAYED AND WOULD BE SET BACK 1 DAY.

THE NBC TEAM THAT I WAS WITH WERENT PREPARED TO STAY OVER NIGHT AND AS FORCASTED BY SSG MINOR WE MIGHT HAVE HAD TO STAY 3 TO 4 DAYS. EVERYBODY WAS PISSED.

LATELY ITS BEEN GETTING REALLY COLD AT NIGHT AND WE JUST HAPPENED TO BE NEAR A RUNNING RIVER. SO THE, ITS ABOUT 9 O’CLOCK AND IM BEAT, NO SLEEPING BAG OR ANYTHING TO COVER UP WITH AND I DECIDE TO TRY AND SLEEP. I GET AS COMFORTABLE AS POSSIBLE AND I GET ATTACKED BY MOSQUITOS. NOW IM PISSED SO I DECIDED TO JUST TO STAY UP ALL NIGHT. ABOUT 10PM ONE OF THE HEMTT (this might just say “hemi”, I don’t know) FUELERS SHOWS UP AND SGT TORRES SAYS HE HAS EVERYBODYS SLEEPING BAG! THE SITES ABOUT 45 MINS AWAY AND THEY LEFT SOMETIME MID AFTERNOON TO GET OUR SHIT, I HATE THESE PEOPLE.

RIGHT NOW ITS 9:01 PM AND ITS 11:02 AM YOUR TIME. I MISS YOU.

RIGHT NOW IM GOING TO ADDRESS AN ENVELOPE AND HAVE IT READY TO SEND TOMMOROW THE 28th. IM SORRY IF IT SEEMS THAT IM NOT WRITING VERY OFTEN. FOR A WHILE WE COULDN’T. AND NOW THAT IT SEEMS WE MIGHT BE HERE A LITTLE WHILE, THEYVE KEPT ME REALLY BUSY. LET ME ADDRESS THE ENVELOPES (he drew a star here)

ALL DONE. I THOUGHT ABOUT THE HOUSE A LOT TODAY AND YESTERDAY. IM SURE BY THE TIME THIS LETTER REACHES YOU, YOU’LL HAVE EITHER GOTTEN IT OR GAVE IT UP. IM O.K. WITH EITHER DECISION YOUVE MADE.

YOUVE KEPT THIS FAMILY TOGETHER, AND THAT MAKES ME PROUD. YOUR SMART, ATTRACTIVE AND FUNNY. AND YOU DONT TAKE ANY SHIT FROM ANYBODY. I LOVE YOU.

I HOPE THAT OUR DAUGHTER TURNS OUT TO BE LIKE YOU.

I GUESS ILL MAIL THIS TOMORROW, FIRST THING, SO

EVER YOURS

EVER MINE

*my dad signed it with his scribble, and wrote his name under it. under that are hearts and x’s with my mom’s name and then my name under hers.*

[arthurflecksgirl]

Artie falls in love with you / Arthur Fleck short story

Disclaimer: Suicidal thoughts, sex, drunk Arthur, romantic, sweet

“How...how many kisses?“

Arthur was lying on the couch, burying his face in the pillow. The two of you went out on a date for the third time today and you were truly in love with him.

“Just tell me sweetheart, how many?“ He mumbled. The couple glasses of wine werent a good idea considering that he was on his medication and was never really drunk before. You felt kinda bad about his condition right now. But you really tried to get him out of his apartment and did choose a good restaurant to finally get him to eat something. He never ate propery and looked kinda starved. Also a side effect of his meds. You felt good, watching him eating half a plate today, so you ordered some wine,too.

You kneed in front of the couch to made sure he's comfortable, petting his soft, sweaty curls “What do you mean?“

He smirked at you “How many smoochies will I get from you tonight?“ His face lighted up looking at you. His childlike grin made your knees weak every time.

You kept on playin with his hair “Many,Arthur.“

“But how much?“

He tried to get up and kiss you on the cheek, making kissing noises and almost fell from the couch “Oooops“ he buried his face in your neck “I almost fell. Good thing I fell in your arms,huh?“ His breath felt hot against your skin. The smell of his hair felt like home. “Yeah Arthur, I'm afraid you're a bit drunk.“

Arthurs smile grew even more “I'm not drunk. I just love you so much and need to know how many?“ A sloppy kiss on the corner of your lips.

“Countless,Artie.“

He sunk back into his pillow “Wow, thats a lot!“

You took the blankets and covered him with it “Just try to get some sleep,okay? You will get all the kisses when you're sober again“.

He crawled up under the sheets, his beautiful face lookin slightly weathered. “Hey (YN) wanna hear a Joke? “

“Sure“

“So this man comes into an libary“ he chuckles in his pillow already.

"...and asks for a book on how to commit suicide.

And the libarian said  Fuck off, you won`t bring it back"

He can`t help but laugh about his own joke. His dark homor said more about himself than you wanted to admit but you were very drawn to his view of things. He always seemed to feel everything with an intensivity you have never seen on someone else before. Eighter if he was happy or sad. When you met him he told you he never felt happy in his whole life but you felt like it changed dramatically since you dated. Knowing that he was all alone by himself, expect from living with his mother his whole life still breaks your heart. Never have you met someone more caring. He loves to make late night conversations while cuddeling up under the blankets, about everything that was going on in his head. Sometimes he had troubles explaining what he was trying to say but you loved his way of observing things around him. He payed attention wo every datail. You admired him, which he couldnt understand. He loved to be seen and he loved that you listened to him carefully. But he still wasnt sure why you loved him so much. You guess he wasnt used to this kind of attantion.

"Thats a good one,Arthur!"

He was getting sleepy "Yeah... you know what (YN) there are many more jokes in my journal, you know? I want you to read it. "

"The jokes?"

"The whole thing"

His eyes got heavier now.

"There are not only jokes in it" his eyes tried to focus on you "I was writing about you,too.I want you to read it"

Your hand slit under the blanket to caress his chest "About me? Really?"

"Yeah" the scar on his upper lip liftet when he did that smirk and it always made you blush. He even managed to make you blush while lying drunk on the couch. You felt kinda bad by getting turned on seeing him in this condition.

"I dont know Arthur, I feel like this is kinda personal. I dont want to disturb your privacy by reading your journal.

"Just do it!"

"Artie, you`re drunk. What if you dont want me to read it anymore in the morning?"

He was leaning  over to give you sloppy kisses again "Thats why I want you to read it now." He was pointing his finger at you "Hey, wanna hear another one?"

You gave him a soft kiss on his forehead "Get some sleep, Arthur. You need to rest now"

He falls back into the pillow and falls asleep with a smile on his face.

After you made sure he fell asleep you looked at his diary. He really said he wanted you to read it. And that he wrote about you.

You werent sure if you should take a look. This felt so personal. On the other hand... You were more than curious about what he might thought of you. You just started dating and had your first kiss some days ago. He was a really good kisser. You guessed he didnt really knew what to do at first but he was so emotionally involved. He seemed to soak up every second of the moment. Like he really wanted this. He was right there in the moment with you, which you loved.After the kiss he confessed that he never was with a woman before and you think he was a bit ashamed about it. But he still wanted you to know. You didnt mind. You thought it was cute actually. And you wanted nothing more than being his first. You would love him all night. Like he deserved to be loved.

Another stare at his diary. You put my hands on the cover. Arthur Fleck case number 064823. Sure he had some problems. But you wanted the both of you  to figure them out together. You wanted to hold his hand when he was in the waiting room to attent his appointments. You still werent sure what the exact diagnose was. You didnt wanted to upset him by asking too much about it. But you knew that he took anti depressants and anti psychotics.

You opened the first page of his diary. Some jokes, really dark ones. Mostly about death.

You turned the pages. Observations about homeless people. More dark jokes. Sad thoughts about being left alone.  You didnt really read all of it cuz it still felt like you were disturbing his privacy. So you tried to find the pages which are written about you and searched for your name to pop up and there is was.

Your name was written in big, red letters that looed like lipstick. With a big smiley. Your heart jumped out of my chest when you saw it. There was something so cute about it and you imagined him drawing this the night, after you met.

You took a deep breath and started to read as your hands were shaking.

"Today I met the sweetest girl. She was new in my neighborhood and seemed to be different from all those aweful bricks here in Gotham. She has a nice smile. An authentic one. Not like my own smile, which is never authentic for so many reasons. I dont even know what a real smile is. But when I saw her , I smiled and for the first time in my entire life  it felt like a real smile.

So she had those big packages to carry and i was just standing there, staring at her and suddenly she asked me for help. I was never been asked for help before. People tend to ignore and avoid me a lot. So I was very pleased to help her with her packages. We got into an conversation and I told her a joke. And she was laughing. I love it when people laugh at my jokes. I mean, I wanna do stand up comedy so bad. I need people to think that I`m funny. And I know I am. ---smiley face---

Anyway, I felt like finally someone sees me. The next day she came up to me when I was about to get to th pharmacy and she asked me out on a date. I couldnt belive it at first. I have never been on a date before. I was kinda nerveaus. Why would a beautiful, young woman like she is go out with me?

Of course I said yes.

I was dreaming about this for so long. Maybe she could be my girlsfriend. This would be a dream come true. I already told her that I have some issues, because she asked me why I was going to the city and I didnt thought twice and told her I have to buy my anti psychotics. I know that this wasnt a good move but it seems like it didnt scare her away. Well, she doesnt know how bad it really is by now.

I really hope that this time she is real and I`m not having visions or daydreams again.

Sometimes its hard to tell.

Some days I even think the meds make it even worse. But at the same time I am afraid to go off my meds. I did it once and I did some bad shit. I even ended up in Arkham for a very long time. Which wasnt that bad really.

Sometimes I think I felt better when I was locked up.

Not being able to leave my room, being with my thoughts all day, drifting away in daydreams gives me comfort. Its like ignoring the cold, dark world outside. The world doesnt care about me anyway. So why should I? The sad thing is, I still do care. I thought about ending my own life so amny times. Almost every day. But I never really tried it. Its just a game I play with myself.

How long? How long until it is not a game anymore?

How long till I have the guts to do it?

Oh man, I`m drifting away again. I wanted to talk about the GIRL!!!

She`s gorgeous. Just gorgeous.

I wish I could kiss her. I`m 35 and I hadnt had my first kiss yet. Its TIME!

I tried it once with this girls from scool i was in love with but I got so nerveaus that I started to laugh at her face and she thought I was laughing at her. Yeah well... she ended up punching me in the face and I never tried it ever since.

But I dreamed about it a lot. How would it feel to have someones lips pressed against yours? Softly and intense. To taste someones tongue in your mouth, to just melt into each other.I would never stop. I feel like a kiss is a connection on a higher level and I really wanna experience it with someone.

I got some other fantasies,too.

They`re pretty dirty and I dont feel like I can talk about them right now.

So i`m gonna quit writing for today and hope that the girl isnt already sick of me.

You turned the page and took a look at Arthur. He was humming in his sleep. Looking peaceful. All the words in his diary overwhelmed you up to a point where you didnt know what to think anymore. You hoped he enjoyed his first kiss. You really hoped your kiss was worth the wait.

The next page was just black scribbles all over the pages. Little drawings of people and cats. A lot of cats.

The next page was written on again.

"Today I woke up and wanted to die. I don`t even know why. It was just a gut feeling. I was miserable andthe darkness was caving in on me. But then I thought about the girls I just met and that she really seemed to like me. So I decited not to kill myself. Not today."

You thought about putting the diary aside. This was a lil too much for you. You didnt knew he was in such a dark place mentally. You were kinda scared but  couldnt stop reading eighter.

"So...I remembered her kiss, my first kiss and this memory was so strong. I am sure it wasnt just imagined. This time I am sure it was real. It has to be. I wanted to distract myself from suicidal thoughts and started to touch myself while thinking of her. Maybe I should write her a love letter. Or bring her flowers. Or both. I think I`ll do both. Anyway, I touched myself while thinking about sleeping with her and I finally felt something again. I tried so many times but my meds wouldnt let me cum. It barely happens. Thinking about her kiss, her hands in my hair, on my thights, between my legs.... and her sweet voice on my ear helped me a lot. I felt passion and  love and  I came so hard, you wouldnt even wanna know. I hope Penny was asleep and didnt noticed anything. This would be embarrassing as hell. I surely made some noises.

I imagined that I took her hand and made her dance all through the living room to Frank Sinatra songs and we got closer and kissed. She told me how much she loved me and how much she wanted me. I held her face in my hands and kissed her so hard, all my make up smeared up on her beautiful face. I am always wearing clown make up in my sexual fantasies. It makes me more confident.  

She just grabbed me and took my clothes off, threw them all over the room, threw me on the bed and covered my body with kisses. I felt loved for the first time in my life and all I wanted was to be inside her. To wear her like a coat that keeps me warm. I imagined her being on top of me, whispering in my ear how much she wants me to fuck her.  And yeah I know in reality she would have dominated me for sure. But in my imagination I just got on top of her and made love to her till she was out of breath. I could almost feel her breath in my neck, feel her sweet, soft hands all over me. It was just so real.  I wish it was real.

Could it become real some day?

My body was reacting in a way I didnt even knew was possible before.

I want to expercience it again. With even more details.

I think i wil get back to bed and try it one more time.

And afterwards I will write her a letter. Or two.

I just wish she never leaves again."

Blank page

Another blank page.

You put the diary aside and got up on the couch.

You crawled up under his blanket and felt the warmth of his tiney, fragile body which you want to hold for the rest of your life.