#having an existential crisis about this colouring

[tardxsblues]

This is-it's amazing. I've never actually met a proper ghost! Moran was our friend.

[ephemeralzenith]

im ngl when i say im in love with a character it is mostly a joke but i may actually be in love with altan trengsin and just never realised

[sunnami]

you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.

pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)

tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending

note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.

What a load of bullshit.

You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 

There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 

Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.

Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 

And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 

Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 

(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 

Were you dying?

That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 

No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 

That was absurd. 

You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.

(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”

You huffed. 

Maybe you’d try Severus next. 

Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.

Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)

Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  

“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 

Ba-dump!

Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 

Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 

Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 

(And you were. If only you knew.)

“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 

Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 

“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.

James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 

“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.

“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 

Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 

(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 

Something stirred deep in your belly. 

You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”

People could get the wrong idea.

You could get the wrong idea.

“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 

It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.

You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 

“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 

“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.

“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 

They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 

James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 

“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 

“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 

“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 

“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 

“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 

You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 

(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)

“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)

But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.

“I’m fine.”

As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 

You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 

And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 

Who were you to get in the way of that?

—

They would understand, you convinced yourself. 

They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 

But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 

If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 

Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 

It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 

(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 

You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 

“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”

“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 

Oh.

You were well and truly screwed. 

“Thanks,” You croaked.)

But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 

(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 

You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”

Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”

“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 

Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”

But only the wind replied.

Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 

“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 

You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 

“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 

Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 

You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”

It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 

You didn’t go to his match later that day.

It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)

Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 

You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”

“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 

Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”

You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 

“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 

“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 

“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.

Still, you missed them. 

“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”

Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”

You cried louder. 

“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”

Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”

Narcissa glared at him.

Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 

Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 

You nodded weakly. “I love them.”

“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 

“I love them!” You hiccuped.

“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 

“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 

Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 

“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 

—

Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 

Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 

Did you have a place with them? 

You were about to find out.

“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.

(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 

“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 

Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 

Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”

You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 

A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 

“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 

 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 

“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”

“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 

“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 

“Because you don’t feel the same.” 

The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 

You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 

“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”

“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.

James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 

Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 

(You were art that he wanted to worship.)

He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”

He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 

“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 

You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 

Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 

You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 

Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 

You nodded. “P-Please.”

Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 

He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 

Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 

You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 

Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 

She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.

[fataldrum]

Dorian Gray is queer art, period.

Apparently Netflix has decided to make an adaption of The Picture of Dorian Gray with Dorian and Basil as siblings. Unless they're planning to go the gothic horror incest route, they've completely missed the point of the relationship between these characters.

If you haven't read the book, Basil is a painter who becomes infatuated with a beautiful young man, pouring his feelings into a painting. Dorian becomes jealous of the painting's beauty, realizing that he will never be as young and unspoiled as the version of himself on the canvas. He finds himself wishing that the painting could age instead of him. His wish is granted, allowing him to stay young and beautiful until the end, with his moral and spiritual decline reflected only in the painting.

I cannot overstate how queer this book is. Dorian is so beautiful that their first meeting inspires a wave of existential terror in Basil. Dorian changes Basil's entire understanding of art and beauty. This book is so queer it was used as evidence at Wilde's sodomy trial.

The existence of the portrait itself is tantamount to a confession of queer desire. Basil tells his friend, Lord Henry, that he can't exhibit the painting because "I have put too much of myself into it.”

Lord Henry (who will later lead Dorian into a life of vice) laughs, but Basil explains:

“[E]very portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. [...] It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my own soul.”

This is how he describes meeting Dorian:

When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself. [...] I have always been my own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. Then—but I don’t know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience that made me do so: it was a sort of cowardice. I take no credit to myself for trying to escape.”

Notice that turn of phrase--it was not conscience but cowardice that made him attempt to flee. Why would conscience factor into his decision? Because he felt shame at his reaction to Dorian's perfect, beautiful face.

Lord Henry is shocked to discover Basil cares for something besides his art.

“He is all my art to me now,” said the painter gravely. “I sometimes think, Harry, that there are only two eras of any importance in the world’s history. The first is the appearance of a new medium for art, and the second is the appearance of a new personality for art also. What the invention of oil-painting was to the Venetians, the face of Antinous was to late Greek sculpture, and the face of Dorian Gray will some day be to me.

Basil goes on to confess, "I see everything in him. He is never more present in my work than when no image of him is there."

Lord Henry still doesn't understand why there is too much of Basil in the painting, so Basil explains:

“Because, without intending it, I have put into it some expression of all this curious artistic idolatry, of which, of course, I have never cared to speak to him. He knows nothing about it. He shall never know anything about it. But the world might guess it, and I will not bare my soul to their shallow prying eyes. My heart shall never be put under their microscope. There is too much of myself in the thing, Harry—too much of myself!”

Lord Henry asks how Dorian feels about Basil, and his response is absolutely tragic.

The painter considered for a few moments. “He likes me,” he answered after a pause; “I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said. As a rule, he is charming to me, and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things. Now and then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain. Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to some one who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer’s day.”

Any adaptation that ignores the way Dorian's existence and beauty utterly destroyed Basil is doomed to be shallow and insipid. This is not just a book about a magic painting. It's a monument to queer longing.

[wheeboo]

tell me that you love me | joshua hong {part two}

SYNOPSIS. in which you and joshua are simply different in more ways than one, yet only seem to find a common ground in struggling to chase your dreams. so why does life keep throwing you two at each other, despite your different worlds, and why does it feel so terrifyingly right? PAIRING. musician!joshua hong x deaf-artist!reader (ft. cafe owner!jeonghan, musician!seokmin, best friend!seungkwan, best friend!wheein, producer!jihoon) GENRE. fluff, slice of life, kdrama romance-esque, mild angst, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn WARNINGS/TAGS. cursing, shua and reader has some self-doubt issues :(, someone makes insensitive comments about reader, mention of alcohol (beer), mention of cigarettes, everyone ships them, kissing, terms of endearment, Softie Domestic Joshua™, it conveniently rains when they're together, this is 85% fluff and 15% plot and the brainrot was giving me an existential crisis, honestly there's not much warnings it's just a love story <3 WORD COUNT (FOR PART TWO). 17k WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC). 37k

notes: for some reason even tho this whole part is almost as long as the first part it still feels rushed asf lmao. there are a bit of time skips between most sections, and prob a noticeable decline in quality the more u read HAHA. idk what else to say other than i hope you all enjoy and thank you for joining me on this journey <3 your feedback and reblogs mean the world to me !!

part one | part two

The taste of the salty breeze is sharp on your tongue. Sand raids onto your sandals and crawls playfully up to your ankles as you step foot on the expansive beach. 

“Ahh, it’s been a long time since we’ve gone to the beach!” Wheein exclaims proudly while running up to you and locking arms with yours, her hair tied back in two french braids, the carefree grin to her face infectious as ever. “No sad thoughts today. We’re here to have fun, ‘kay?”

She grabs you by the shoulders and eagerly shakes your body before you have the chance to respond. Wheein is right𑁋no sad thoughts today, it is. Seungkwan dashes up from behind as well, carrying with him two plastic bags full of drinks and snacks when the three of you stopped by the convenience store earlier. You carry a large blanket in your grasp as you all make your way to a spot a good distance away from the water. Ah, and you’ve brought your camera along too. 

It turns out that Wheein and Seungkwan had planned a surprise trip to the beach solely to celebrate your art being selected for the museum. But even though that didn’t happen, they still wanted to cheer you up and lift your spirits (meaning, they stood by your front door for nearly half an hour and constantly shone their phone flashlights to get your attention inside, practically dragging you out of bed. You still love them either way). 

The beach isn’t that busy at this time in the late afternoon during a weekday, so finding a quiet spot is easy. You lay out the blanket on a patch of smooth sand, making sure it's free of any debris. Seungkwan sets down the bags of snacks and drinks, and Wheein helps arrange everything neatly.

The water laps calmly up the coast, stretching for miles under the soft glow of the sun. As you settle yourself on the blanket, you catch sight of a trio of seagulls flying peacefully overhead while feeling the warmth of the sand below you and the cool breeze hitting your skin. 

It’s hard not to look at the picturesque scene right before your eyes. A sun, sunrise, or sunset on the beach is something you’ve painted many times before, but you probably wouldn’t tire of it. There’s a variety of colours that the sky contains𑁋from fiery oranges and bright blues to soft pinks and purples𑁋and many people would say it’s the easiest background to capture on a canvas. But you know better. 

Taking a hold of the camera around your neck, you adjust the lens and frame the seemingly endless skies right within the small viewfinder. The shutter clicks a few times as you capture the vibrant hues of the sunset slowly but surely beginning to take its course, freezing a moment of beauty in time. 

After taking a moment to review the photos, you bring the camera back up to your eye again and whip your head around with the intent of taking some candid shots. However, you certainly don’t expect to capture the face of Joshua mid-laugh. He's not looking at you, or the camera, but at Wheein and Seungkwan who seemed to have quickly dropped their belongings in order to greet him. There’s two other boys behind him too𑁋Jeonghan was one of them, the other one you weren’t able to put a name on, but the wide grin on his face was enough to tell you all that you needed to know. All of them are too far for you to be able to read what they’re talking about.

Happiness looks good on them, You think. 

Zooming out just slightly, a singular click is all you need to capture. It’s like everything that you need in a small, rectangular frame𑁋an encapsulation of pure joy. You lower the camera and take a few seconds to admire the candid show, the way the sun casts a golden glow on their faces, and the unguarded expressions of happiness that make the photo more than just perfect. 

Bringing your camera back around your neck, you stand up from the blanket and slowly approach the group. Joshua is the first to notice you come up, as he always is, and his face doesn’t shy away from seemingly brightening up. He’s wearing a plaid button down shirt with a few of its buttons undone, a seashell necklace around his neck, and a pair of black shorts. You also notice his guitar case slinging on his shoulder. 

You muster up a surprised look towards Wheein and Seungkwan about the guests you weren’t aware that were invited𑁋not that you’re complaining at all. 

Wheein waves a hand in front of your face, directing your attention towards her. 

“They’re here to sing!” she tells you, signing animatedly to you.

You lift a brow, letting your hands move in the air as if you’re conducting. “Sing?”

“I thought it would be a fun touch!” Wheein exclaims, then she steps closely right in front of you, seemingly lowering her voice and signing briskly so the others wouldn’t see, “I’m doing you a favour here.” 

“Y/N! This is Seokmin,” Seungkwan gestures to the boy who finally has a name standing right next to Joshua, spelling out the letters of Seokmin’s name with his hands.

Immediately, Seokmin switches whatever he was holding in his right hand𑁋a microphone stand?𑁋to his other hand before extending it out to you for a handshake in perhaps the most humourously, gentlemanly way possible. The goofy grin on his face is enough to make you giggle as you shake his hand firmly. 

“Nice to meet you,” You sign to him, and Seokmin’s eyes light up in awe at the way your hands move. He turns towards the others with a questionable look, and when they tell him what you signed, his grin widens even more. 

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Seokmin exclaims, the enthusiasm bouncing off him. Then he briefly glances between you and Joshua, wiggling his brows and adding, “I’ve been told a lot about you.” 

Glancing over at Joshua, you notice the way he brings his head down to his feet for a moment, but then he lifts himself back up and meets your gaze with a fond smile.

“Okay, you guys can go set your things up. Seungkwan and I will set up the snacks and drinks,” Wheein says. “I say we go in the water after the performance. Who’s in?” 

Right away, the remaining five of you come to a simultaneous agreement. Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Joshua begin to move towards a spot a little further down the beach where they can set up their equipment. Wheein and Seungkwan grab the bags with the food and drinks to set them up near the blanket, leaving you behind to soak in the sight of the beach once more. 

“Right here is good.” Joshua motions to a spot on the ground where Jeonghan sets up the speaker for the microphone. “Did you bring the extension cord?”

Jeonghan pleasantly rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he whips out the extension cord and connects it to the speaker with ease. “You really don’t believe in me, don’t you?” Then he glances past Joshua’s shoulders, smirking faintly to himself. “Target incoming. Six o'clock.”

Joshua turns his body around, wiping away the sand from his hands, and his eyes land straight on you approaching up to him. The corners of his mouth turn upward at the sight of you, dazed eyes lingering on the way you carry yourself quietly toward him. The sunlight catches in your hair, and the backdrop of the ocean makes you appear like a painting that had come to life. He quickly clears his throat.

When you come up to him, you hold out your phone towards him.

Didn’t expect to see you here today

Joshua stifles a half-hearted laugh, plucking the phone from your grasp to type right below your line. 

Is that a bad thing? 

As you read the message, you could only scowl playfully, before taking your phone back.

How did you even know about this anyway?

After scanning your message, Joshua glances around before pointing at something behind you𑁋to Wheein and Seungkwan, who were both dashing away from a wave that was washing onto the shore. 

“Your friends are really adamant about cheering you up,” he remarks teasingly. “I couldn’t just say no.” 

You could visibly see the utter panic in Wheein’s face from afar when Seungkwan nearly stumbles into the wet sand, her hands coming to grab the younger boy’s arm to pull him up. Then their faces shift into a fit of laughter. You really don’t know what you would do without them, honestly. 

“Thank you,” You sign to Joshua when you turn back to him. 

Joshua’s eyes roam over your face with a soft, contemplative expression. Then he motions down to your phone that was in your grasp, and you hand it to him, your fingers briefly brushing against each other.

A thoughtful look spreads across his features, before he types a response on your phone, fingers moving swiftly over the screen, and you read his message:

You look beautiful today.

The words on the screen seem to glow brighter than usual, and you feel a rush of affection flood into you like the waves at high tide. Your hand nearly goes limp, almost dropping your phone into the sands below, your heart stuttering in your chest as you regain your composure. For once, even communicating with your hands feels clumsy, inadequate. 

But before you can say anything, a damp hand lands at your shoulder, and you whip your head around to see Wheein standing there, hair dripping wet and chest heaving with exhaustion. 

“If we don’t start, I’m going to kill Seungkwan,” Wheein says while exaggeratedly signing, face scrunched up in annoyance. 

You scratch the back of your neck bashfully before turning off your phone and averting your eyes away from Joshua. You drag Wheein away to help her dry off while the others set up the rest of the equipment. 

By the time everything is set up, there’s a small gathering of curious beachgoers nearby who seem to be drawn by the preparation going on. Some were sitting on blankets spread out on the sand, while others stood in small groups at a respectful distance. 

You find yourself sitting on a blanket with Wheein and Seungkwan right next to you. The two of them were conversing with each other, and all you could do was watch Joshua. He takes out his guitar from the case before sitting on a folded up plastic chair. He runs a hand through his hair and seems to strum a few notes, probably checking the sound levels𑁋Jeonghan sends him a thumbs-up from the side. Seokmin also sits down in a chair right next to him, adjusting the microphone to his mouth and tapping a few times on its head. 

“Hello, everyone!” Joshua announces into the microphone. He’s too far away for you to read his lips properly, but he’s still signing for you, for you to understand even when you’re not directly in front of him. Did he practice all of this beforehand? “Thank you all for stopping by to listen.” 

It’s hard to fully catch what he signs next. He might be nervous, you think, but that’s still endearing in itself. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the beach, as Joshua begins to strum his guitar. Seokmin fixes himself up to the microphone, fingers tapping beats against his thigh. His face shifts into focus, eyes closing to the music taking over that you can feel reverberate through the fresh air. 

Joshua's fingers dance across the strings, then Seokmin's voice joins in. You watch their performance unfold, catching glimpses of their expressions𑁋Joshua's focused yet occasionally glancing your way with a reassuring smile, Seokmin's eyes closed in immersion with the music.

At the corner of your eye, you see Wheein and Seungkwan swaying to the music. When Wheein turns towards you, she reaches down to grab your hand into hers and lifts it up into the air with a grin, swaying your hands together from left to right. She also does the same with Seungkwan, and it’s just the three of you moving your bodies enthusiastically to the music as it swarms throughout the lively atmosphere of the beach. The small gathered audience around seem caught in the moment too. 

When the first song ends, you clap along with the others, feeling the exhilaration of the performance blossom within your chest. Joshua lets his eyes roam around, briefly settling in your gaze for a moment, and the sight of your genuine joy only encourages him even more. He nods to Seokmin, who flashes him a thumbs-up, and then they dive into the next song.

It’s an emotional one this time. You could tell from the pensive looks on everyone's faces𑁋Seungkwan seems like he’s even about to cry𑁋and it only makes you think what they’re singing about. But you don’t let it bother you; instead, you still slowly sway your body, closing your eyes and letting yourself immerse in the moment. 

Grains of sand slip through the cracks of your fingers. The sun has almost fully set at this point, merely just a golden half-circle sinking into the horizon. Water drips down your hair and skin onto the towel below you, goosebumps crawling its way up your arms from the night breeze that was beginning to settle in. You have no idea what time it is right now𑁋the beach is probably going to close soon, you think. 

The others are still wading in the water, except for Jeonghan who might be passed out on another blanket not that far away from you. The events from the past few hours have started to rain down on you, a small yawn leaving you as you use the towel below to dab at your legs. 

However, you feel something encase around you suddenly, and you perk up to the warm feeling of a towel being draped over your shoulders. Looking up, you see Joshua standing right above you, a towel of his own in his hands. He places himself down right next to you as if it was the most natural thing to do, and you let him. You like… being close with him like this. 

Joshua dries off his hair with the towel, and you have to take your gaze away from the fact that his arms are exposed because of the sleeveless black top he was wearing. His hair comes out in a loose mess, wet strands sticking to his forehead. He glances over at you for a second, sending you a brief smile, and again, you avert your eyes away, moving your neck around to ignore the heat creeping up your body. 

You don’t suppress the smile passing over your own face, though.

A light nudge at your side blinks you back to reality, making you turn to see an illuminated phone screen right in front of you.

Tired? 

That was all to make another yawn leave you once again. Joshua just chuckles at the way you angle your face away from the phone screen, trying to hide your weariness. He brings the phone back to type something else before showing it to you. 

Feeling happy though? 

You almost want to scoff at that, but you don’t. It’s hard to not notice the way you feel happy right now. Maybe you’re glowing or something, maybe the pain that you feel in your cheeks is from all the smiles that was plastered on your face throughout the day. Whatever it is, you can’t deny it𑁋yes, you feel happy. 

Joshua sees it too. There was probably no use in asking. The answer blooms on your features, perhaps brighter than the first stars beginning to twinkle above. 

And so, you simply nod. 

When Joshua retrieves his phone back, there’s a subtle shift in his face that was noticeable in the light. His fingers start typing across the screen, but then it stops, starts again, and stops. 

He turns to you, expression turning serious. “Is it okay if I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.” 

You huddle more into the towel and meet his gaze with a curious tilt of your head. His eyes flicker between you and his phone. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, he hesitantly shows you the screen.

Have you ever wished that you could hear again?

For some reason, Joshua expects for you to be taken aback by the question, maybe even awkward or offended. But, instead, a relaxed look graces your features, a subtle curve at your lips, and you shake your head. Then you take the phone, typing out: 

Not really. When I lost my hearing at 7, I used to cry to sleep knowing I won’t be able to hear my parent’s voices again. But over time, I didn’t let it bother me. It’s a part of who I am. It doesn’t make me any less than anyone else. It doesn’t make the world any less beautiful than it is now. There will always be challenges, like missing out on a joke or an important announcement. But I’ve learned to find beauty in the little things. Like feeling music through vibrations, or how sunlight hits my skin and tells me that the day is beautiful. I could read people’s faces and feel their excitement or their sadness. These are sounds in their own ways. So no, I don’t really wish I could hear again. I’ve found my own way to listen and be heard. 

You even feel out of breath after typing all that out, but you feel lighter. Your heart feels completely vulnerable right now, all the thoughts swirling around you seem easy to catch in another’s hands. But Joshua is gentle with those thoughts, as if he’s placing them back down on the ground for you to navigate them together. You notice a flicker of something akin to awe wash over his features as he quietly reads your words to himself, a thoughtful crease forming between his brows. Then, he starts to type. 

For me, I’ve been surrounded by sound all my life. Voices, instruments, the noise of the city. It’s kind of hard to imagine going through life without it. I’ve learned to grow up analyzing tones, pitches, chords, and notes. And because of that I get afraid of being the one off-key. But I like being quiet with you. And I like talking to you. And I like getting to know you. There’s a part of me that thinks I wouldn’t get tired of looking at you. I don’t know if it’s the silence that helps me focus, but I just know it helps me focus on you. 

You swear you don’t even blink when you read over his words, once, twice, five times over. There’s a tugging at the strings of your heart, a sweet ache spreading through your chest, a sensation much to the pull of the ocean’s tide. When you draw your eyes away from the phone and to Joshua, his gaze meets yours in the middle, a hesitant question lingering painted over his features. 

He brings his hands once more. He points to himself first, then faces his hand towards his chest, putting his thumb and index finger close to his chest with the other fingers extended out. Next, he slowly moves his hand forward, bringing his thumb and index finger closer together. And finally, he points to you, like you’re the last piece of the puzzle.

“I like you.” 

A lump forms in your throat, and that familiar flutter of butterflies takes flight in your stomach, but it’s demanding this time and impossible to ignore. Letting your eyes drift over his face𑁋from his somewhat damp, tousled hair and down to the curve of his lips𑁋you know exactly how you feel.

Without hesitation; without doubt, you kiss him the next moment. It’s a tentative touch at first, making Joshua’s eyes widen in surprise and you pull away with uncertainty. For a second, he could only gaze at you, but then an adoring smile blooms across his face, an admiring sparkle in his pupils. Then he tilts his head just slightly, almost in a teasing manner, and leans back in to capture your lips against his once more. 

Even when your eyes flutter to a close, you still feel his smile against your skin, matching the warmth that spreads through you like strokes of paint on a canvas, like music that fills a silent space. Something comes to cover over your hand on the towel𑁋Joshua’s hand rest over yours, warm and securely, thumb coming to reassuringly rub over the skin there. 

When you pull away, you have the urge to bury yourself in the towel wrapped around you or run away in a fit of panic. You end up doing the former, burying your face further in the soft cotton. But Joshua doesn’t let you completely disappear, a shy chuckle of his own leaving his lips as he reaches out to gingerly tug the towel down just enough to reveal your eyes.

“Hi there,” he says softly, before some worry stretches across his face. “Are you okay?” 

You loosely release yourself a bit more from the towel’s grasp around you and meet his eyes with a small, reassuring smile. 

“I meant what I said,” Joshua continues. His hand still rests on yours while he lifts the other one to sign again, “I like you. I really do.” 

Glancing down at your laced hands, you absentmindedly brush away a few grains of sand that stuck to his knuckles. His skin is warm to the touch, and the intimate gesture makes you take a shallow breath. You lift your gaze back to this, and he follows the way you bring your hand up. 

You stick out your pinky finger, almost like a promise, and extend out your thumb as well, before moving your hand back and forth to sign,

“Me too.” You continue to run the tips of your fingers over his hand. I like you too.

“Did Seokmin tell you about Jihoon?”

Joshua sprays a bottle of disinfectant on a table before grabbing the rag that was hanging loosely on his shoulder. “Who?”

“The producer guy.”

The smell of the chemicals sends an unpleasant crinkle to Joshua’s nose. He pauses his cleaning for a moment. “Haven’t heard of him.”

“Well, he’s a producer apparently. A fairly new one. I think Seokmin mentioned that he went to high school and university with him𑁋wasn’t entirely close to him, though. Just a name that was sort of tossed around.” Jeonghan stops to take a loud bite out of a bag of chips. “But I’ve heard he’s got a studio opened now somewhere. So maybe…”

Joshua lightly chuckles. “You know I’ve gotten scammed from this type of stuff, right?”

“I’ve done my research.” Jeonghan promptly sits up in the chair (yes, he’s not helping with cleaning at all). “No heinous crimes have been committed. If anything, the only thing I could find on him is𑁋”

“Yo, Jeonghan! Where do you want this box of shit?” 

Jeonghan turns somewhat annoyedly towards the source of the voice: this guy named Wonsik that he had hired recently since having Joshua as the only other worker around was proving to be insufficient. Joshua can’t say he’s exactly a fan of him though. His attitude is a bit… brash, to say the least. 

“Just leave it in the storage room,” Jeonghan says, pointing in the direction with a chip in his hand. 

After wiping off the final corner of the table, Joshua feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. As he takes it out and catches a glimpse of the notification, he can’t help but smile to himself.

Joshua takes off the apron he’s been wearing, neatly hanging it up on a hook by the door that was designated for staff.

Jeonghan catches him mid-chew. “Curfew time?” 

“Yep.”

“Gross,” Jeonghan mumbles sarcastically while crumpling up his bag of chips. “You know, just because you’re in a relationship now doesn’t mean you get to slack off on closing duties.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully. “Whatever, I’ll make it up tomorrow.”

Wonsik emerges from the storage room, catching Joshua’s attention with his loud, assertive footsteps and nearly running into him, the scent of cigarette smoke trailing behind him. He mumbles something about finally finishing taking in all the boxes, carrying the last one labeled with supplies, his expression a mix of boredom and disdain as he spots Joshua preparing to leave.

“Finally taking off, huh?" Wonsik sneers, eyeing Joshua up and down. “Off to be the hero for your little deaf partner?”

Whatever politeness Joshua had to his features had faded away in an instant, his jaw clenching tightly to the words. He adjusts the strap of his guitar case on his shoulder and meets Wonsik's arrogant gaze evenly.

“Watch your mouth,” Joshua says sharply, a warning edge to his voice that cuts through the room like a knife. 

“What? I’m just saying it must be hard to deal with them, that’s all. Like how do you even communicate? Doing your little hand stuff? Must be an ass to handle all that shit.” 

Joshua's nostrils flare at that, sensing his patience wearing thin at Wonsik's blatant insensitivity. His fists clench at his side momentarily, but he keeps in his anger, knowing that losing his cool most definitely won't help the situation at all. Taking a deep breath, he meets Wonsik's eyes with a steely glare.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Joshua replies firmly. “Don’t you have some human decency and respect in you?” 

Wonsik just scoffs haughtily. That dumb, conceited smirk on his face widens even more as he leans casually against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. "Hey, I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. It's not like I'm wrong, right? You could do so much better, man. You’re just pitying them because you feel bad.”

Just at that, his words strike a nerve in Joshua. “Y/N is more than capable of handling themself. They don’t need anyone else’s pity, least of all mine. So why don’t you mind your own business? Learn some respect while you’re at it, asshole.”

Wonsik shoots Joshua a final contemptuous glance before turning on his heel, shoving past Joshua, and disappearing back into the storage room, muttering something under his breath that Joshua isn’t bothered to decipher. 

Heading back into the main area of the café, Joshua stops right before the door to turn towards Jeonghan. “Do me a favour and𑁋”

“Don’t worry,” Jeonghan interjects, waving him off dismissively. “He won’t come back tomorrow.”

Joshua’s shoulders visibly relax at that. “Thanks,” And when his hand lands on the door handle, he stops again. “I’ll do that thing, by the way.”

“That thing?”

“Mhm.” Joshua just nods. “I’ll ask Seokmin about Jihoon.”

Joshua hums quietly after every pluck of his guitar string, twisting the tuning pegs at the head of the guitar with every note deemed off-key. The sounds leaving his guitar bounce off the walls of your apartment and blend with the smell of leftover ramen that lingers in the room. 

You sit across from him with two steaming cups of tea in your hand, carefully placing them on the coffee table in front of him. He glances up from tuning his guitar, eyes softening as they meet yours. Resting the guitar against the arm of the couch, he gratefully takes the mug that was waiting for him on the table, taking a quick sip of the jasmine tea you had prepared.

You peer at him worriedly, forming a claw shape with your hand and moving it downward to sign, “Hot?”

Joshua shakes his head, sipping once more and setting it back on the table. 

“It’s perfect,” he tells you reassuringly. 

Placing the guitar back on his lap, he positions his arms comfortably over it as if preparing to play something. Yet he catches the way your eyes watch his fingers glide over the strings. Joshua fixes his posture and presses his back against the couch behind. 

“Do you want to try?” he asks. His fingers rest lightly on the strings, demonstrating a chord before letting them hover, waiting for your response.

The hesitation within you is shunned aside from the subtle hope of his invitation. Warily, you shift closer to him, settling between his legs as he positions the guitar in your grasp. His hands cover over yours, guiding your fingers over the frets and showing you how to press down on the strings. The wood of the guitar is smooth under your touch, vibrating weakly as you pluck the strings a few times tentatively.

His breath fans over your skin as he leans closer to help adjust your grip on the guitar neck. You have to turn your head in order to see if he’s saying anything to you. His face is so close to yours now that you can see the fine details in his expression. There’s a slight tiredness in there too, but you don’t comment about it. 

Joshua's fingers move dexterously as he shows you another chord. This time, you press down with more confidence, and the sound resonates more clearly. He watches your face light up, and you can feel the vibrations of the strings through your fingertips. It’s a bit ticklish and you can’t help but giggle softly at the sensation. His hands still hover over yours for a few moments, but then he pulls back to give you a bit more space.

The chords you're playing aren't perfect𑁋they come out off-pitch and you aren’t able to tell, or the strumming patterns are a bit uneven𑁋but Joshua doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about the mistakes. 

After some time, you cautiously set the guitar on the floor, letting it lean back against the couch. By the time you finish taking another sip of your tea, Joshua is already holding out his phone to you.

If I wanted to get your attention without accidentally scaring you, how could I do that?

A feeling of déjà vu slithers down your body at the question, and you could tell Joshua feels it too. Briefly, you think about the first time the two of you met. It’s quite surreal how far you’ve come already. 

You grab his phone to type:

I wouldn’t worry about scaring me like before, since I know that it’s you. I’m familiar with you. A small tap on the shoulder is okay, or you can flash your phone light. Wheein and Seungkwan do that to get my attention if they’re outside the door

Joshua reads your response, then shoots an understanding look, a thoughtful curve to his lips. The next thing that you catch is a yawn leaving him, which he tries to cover up with a sheepish smile.

“Tired?” You sign to him. 

“A little bit,” he replies meekly. “Just some things on my mind.” 

You tilt your head slightly, curiosity piqued at that. 

Joshua practically melts into the couch, the exhaustion in his posture evident as he stretches out his legs and lets out a soft sigh. 

“Work has been picking up a bit, people are ridiculous sometimes,” he starts, a twinge of frustration to his features. “I haven’t been able to go busking recently either, but… I think an opportunity came up. For music.”

Your eyes widen with interest, and you lean forward slightly, encouraging him to continue.

But he only hesitates. “I just don’t know if it’s worth pursuing. There are so many people out there who make big promises, but not all of them deliver. I don’t want to get involved in something that could turn out to be another dead end.”

A frown crosses its way across your lips. You can sense his apprehension and understand the reason behind it, but you also recognise the glimmer of hope in his eyes. Slipping out your own phone, you type:

You should go with what your heart is telling you to do. I’ll be there to support you either way :)

Your words drip of care and affection, feeling the uncertainty in his heart soften when he pinpoints the sincerity in your eyes. For a brief second, his gaze flickers down to your mouth before returning back up to your gaze. Without another word, he leans in, letting his lips brush against yours in a fleeting kiss. 

Even in the few weeks the two of you have been together, moments like these will take some time to get used to. It’s both intimidating and exhilarating, comforting and thrilling all in one. But it’s undeniable that it feels… right, natural. 

As cheesy as it sounds, that is what his heart told him to do at that moment𑁋to kiss you as a way to say thank you. A shy, boyish grin tugs at the corners of Joshua’s mouth when he pulls away. He takes a visible deep breath, as if drawing strength from your closeness, attentive eyes roaming over your face for any discomfort, but he finds none. The tips of your ears feel like they’re on fire, if anything. 

“Cute.” He lightly taps the bud of your nose, causing you to scrunch up your face in response. “Thank you. I mean it.” 

You only smile and nod under his gaze, signing with a simple, “I know.”

You lose track of time in front of the canvas when a yawn of your own leaves your mouth. Admittedly, it’s been hard motivating yourself to paint lately ever since your rejection at the exhibition, but somehow this time around, the colours on the canvas look more… livelier. 

You glance between the unfinished canvas and to the candid picture that you took that day at the beach of your friends’ smiling faces. If this is how you’re going to encourage yourself to get back into painting, then so be it: painting a moment that you could simply define as happiness. 

When another yawn leaves you, you swirl your paintbrush in a murky cup of water to clean it off before setting it aside. You stand from the chair and stretch, feeling the stiffness in your muscles from sitting in one position for too long. When you shift your gaze behind you, the sight that appears before you sends a leap of surprise through you.

Your eyes land on a sleeping Joshua, whose head rests against the arm of the couch, relaxed body slumped against the cushions, and one of his arms dangling off the edge. Tiptoeing over to him, you grab a blanket that Wheein had crocheted for your birthday from a nearby armchair and drape it over him. He shifts slightly at the movement but doesn’t wake, instead settling more deeply into the couch with a soft, contented sigh. 

You don’t have it in to wake him up, because this feels right𑁋him at your place, falling asleep, and a sense of peace floating through the air. 

If Seokmin didn’t come along, Joshua would probably have turned around on his heels by now and declined the offer. 

Apparently Jihoon’s studio was located in a somewhat sketchy part of the city, and it took only one tumultuous month later to finally set a date to meet up. Joshua glances around the area, taking in a few worn-down buildings and graffiti-covered walls, wondering if this is really the right place.

“This place better not be a dump,” Seokmin mutters under his breath, scanning around nervously. “I swear, Jihoon has always been a bit of a mystery, but he’s got talent for sure. He was practically the maestro of the entire music program back then.”

“And you reunited with him… how?”

“At the gym,” Seokmin answers, but it’s more under his breath as if he was a bit embarrassed by it. The sly laugh that leaves Joshua makes him jut out his bottom lip. “I wanted to know his workout routine! I didn’t even recognise him after all these years.”

Joshua just rolls his eyes, the lighthearted banter lessening some of his nerves. 

It would be his first time to walk into an actual studio. Somehow, Jihoon’s place was a good size to accommodate a variety of sound equipment and a living space at the same time. Compared to the gritty exterior, the inside certainly had more of a calming ambience. Neon lighting illuminated the room, casting a warm glow over the sleek equipment and musical instruments. Records lined the shelves and posters of artists decorated the walls, all bringing more character to the place. 

Jihoon himself was the epitome of calm and collected, bringing an aura of meticulous confidence that caressed every inch of the studio. He’s been working independently this entire time, and according to Seokmin, he's been steadily putting a name for himself in the underground music scene right after graduating from university. 

“So,” Jihoon starts, spinning around in the chair he was sitting on. Even when he was wearing a simple pair of sweatpants and a black tee, he still appeared effortlessly cool. “you’re a singer?” 

Joshua looks down at himself for a moment as if questioning his own presence here, fingertips gliding steadily over the strings of his guitar. “Yeah. Been busking for the past year or so. Played guitar for my entire life. I’ve written some of my own songs, too.”

Surprisingly, this is enough to convince Jihoon. “Alright, then. Show me what you got.” 

In its entirety, it was a surreal experience, and there’s just this inkling, this pinch of hope in the space between the tips of Joshua’s fingers whispering to him that he’s finally on the path to accomplishing his dreams. He’s never heard the sound of his voice so clearly before. Unlike the studio, there are no walls surrounding him when he busks𑁋only the open air, the street sounds blending with his music. But in the studio, the environment is different. 

It’s as if his music is finally being given the space it deserves to breathe and thrive, just like he had always wanted for it to do. 

The excitement is even evident in the way he’s gripping your hand as the two of you are walking back to your place together later that same night. Walking together has always been routine between the two of you, yet now there’s a certain lightness in the air knowing you both share the same love for these moments together. 

Joshua feels the way you squeeze his hand, and when he looks at you, you’re holding out your phone for him to read.

So are you planning on seeing him again next week?

A contemplative look crosses his face, but it doesn’t take long for the corners of his lips to curve up. 

“I think so,” he answers, eyes lighting up with optimism. “I think I might be getting to where I want to be, you know?” 

The excitement that trickles down his body flows through your interlaced hands, and you find yourself smiling alongside him. You love knowing you get to be a witness of this pivotal moment for him. You love seeing him happy just as much as you love being happy around him. 

When you reach the entrance of your apartment building, your hand still hasn’t left his. Joshua gazes past your shoulder towards the door, and then back to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asks, a teasing tilt to his head. “Even for just an hour?” 

You wiggle your eyebrows at him, only giving him a simple shake of your head. 

“Hm, am I that much of a distraction?” he muses, stepping just a tad bit more closer to you, and you know you’re digging yourself more into the ground at this point. “I love watching you paint though.” 

You attempt to power through the way his words send a jolt through you, stubbornly standing your ground with the most serious expression you could muster. It’s not that you don’t want him to stay with you a little longer𑁋because you might quite possibly set everything aside for him without a doubt𑁋but you’ve made it a goal to get back into painting on your own terms and slowly but surely regain your confidence. 

After putting on a small pout, Joshua’s gaze just softens. “Promise me you won’t stay up late?” 

You nod, feeling the warmth of his concern and signing, “Promise.”

He still doesn’t let go of your hand, his thumb coming to caress tenderly over your knuckles. Joshua’s eyes flicker to your lips, and he leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you don’t. Then he leans in and pauses once more, nose briefly brushing against yours, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Goodnight,” he signs when he pulls away, running a hand down your arm before reluctantly stepping back.

You could never get over the satisfying wave of relief that hits you whenever you complete a painting. 

The first time you finished a painting was when you were eight years old. It was a simple watercolour painting of your family house, distinctively placed on a large hill instead of being surrounded by your neighbouring homes. Your mother had stuck it on the refrigerator for as long as you could remember alongside other family photos until it got too worn out from being taken down and put back up so many times, even being forgotten at some points when other mementos covered it. The fridge seemed so empty without it.

Seeing that painting every day reminded you of the joy of creating something with your own hands𑁋filling a space with something beautiful and meaningful, just like you had envisioned it in your mind. It’s not just about copying the photograph you used as reference; it’s about translating those fleeting, joyful moments into something real. You want people to look at your painting and feel the same happiness, the same warmth that you felt in that moment. It’s about capturing a moment in time and making it last forever. This is what art means to you. 

“This is stunning, Y/N!” Wheein exclaims when you stand right next to her. “You made the sand look so real! And you used such a gorgeous gradient for the sky. You gotta give me some tips later! Have you thought about showing this to your teacher?”

You frown a little at that. You haven’t exactly been putting in the effort to show up at all. The sting of that rejection at the exhibition still lingers, making you hesitate to put yourself out there again. You’d rather put on a show for yourself before determining whether or not it’s worth sharing with others. 

“I don’t know,” You answer.

“That’s okay!” Wheein says brightly. “But whenever you’re ready, let me know. We can make a killer portfolio together.”

You let out a laugh at that, mentally taking note of her offer for the future. Wheein just nudges you lightly on the hip with her own.

“You seem so much happier lately,” she acknowledges teasingly, a sly smirk crossing her face. “probably because of a certain someone…”

You feel a light flush creeping up your cheeks, and you glance away with a smile that you can’t quite hide. It hasn’t even been that long since you and Joshua have been together. Yet even though you can call him your boyfriend, he still gives you the space to grow, to dream, and to be yourself, just as you do with him. And in those times you two are together, reveling in the quiet language of your hands, letting your guard down has never felt this easy. You could share a simple smile with each other and the world seems a little brighter, a little more colourful, and a little more hopeful and meaningful. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re smitten!” Wheein exclaims amusedly. “If that’s not love in your eyes, I don’t know what is.” 

Love. What a silly, little word𑁋so small, yet carries so much in between its letters. 

You just chuckle to yourself, savouring the way the word swirls around you.

[07:15 PM | y/n] are you nearing the place? I’m waiting by the front 

You turn your phone off and bring it down, searching around for any sight of Joshua. Passerbys fill up your field of vision, all of them rushing past or casually walking by with their own different lives, but you don’t see him among the crowd. You check the time again, noting that he’s already fifteen minutes late, but you remind yourself that he’s been at Jihoon’s studio for the majority of the day and has probably been busy. 

As you continue waiting, the slight chill of the evening air runs through your bones. It’s getting noticeably colder outside as winter is approaching closer and closer. You glance at your phone again, but the screen remains dark. Another ten minutes pass, and you could feel the worry creeping up your spine. It’s not like him to be this late without a reason.

The vibrant evening around you slowly begins to lose its charm, the excitement within you boiling down into a pit of disappointment, and the thought of standing alone any longer becomes unbearable. So, with a heavy sigh, you decide to walk away, pushing away the disappointment with every step that you take.

[07:28 PM | y/n] I’ll be heading home. let me know when you’re finished at jihoon’s 

You slip your phone into your pocket, feeling a twinge of sadness as you start walking towards the nearest crosswalk. Above you, the streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement below and swallow the lively colours of the evening. 

Approaching the crosswalk, the signal light shines a deep red, instructing you to stop and wait. A crowd of people all stop behind you as you wait for the light to change, and you become acutely aware of their presence surrounding you. 

Your eyes wander across the street, where the traffic light turns red, and cars begin to slow down. Anticipating for the light to signal for you to cross, a sudden flash catches your attention from across the street. It looks like a flashlight, and it was flickering in a deliberate pattern.

The moment the signal light turns green, the flashing stops, unraveling Joshua standing on the other side. People brush past you in order to cross the street, yet you can only find yourself frozen. There’s a flash of urgency you catch to Joshua’s features, and your focus narrows on him as he dashes across the street toward you. 

He’s breathless the second he reaches you, and his face is flushed with relief and desperation. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologises, signing frantically to you. “I lost track of time. I tried getting on the bus to get here faster but the traffic was bad. I…” His shoulders sink in dismay. “I’m sorry.”

You just shake your head dismissively, but it’s not hard to miss the subtle hurt in your face and the way you sign back to him. “It’s okay. I know your music is important to you.”

“You’re my top priority,” Joshua says quickly, eyes intense with sincerity. “Let me make it up to you, okay?” 

His words send a flutter that makes your heart ache in your chest. Joshua reaches down and takes ahold of your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You feel a warmth spread through you as he intertwines your fingers.

“Would you like to have dinner back at my place?” Joshua offers, his lips curling up in a hopeful smile. “Jeonghan is staying at a friend’s place tonight, so it’ll just be us.” 

You look up at Joshua, your heart racing at the thought of spending the evening with him. 

“Okay,” You sign to him. 

It’s been years since the last time you saw a record player. Your parents used to have one in the corner of the living room. It was a vintage piece, and you remember how your father used to meticulously handle the vinyl records, placing them carefully on the turntable before lowering the needle. You didn’t hear the music that came from it𑁋the music that they played before you lost your hearing was vague to memory𑁋but you loved watching the way the needle danced across the grooves of the records.

Joshua has an entire vinyl collection, and you look through each one curiously. You see names like Amy Winehouse, Radiohead, Pink Floyd, Elton John, Frank Sinatra, Nirvana, The Beatles, and even some contemporary artists like Billie Eilish, Boys Like Girls, and Lana Del Rey. The covers of each one are like pieces of art themselves, with their vintage charm and intricate designs. 

When Joshua turns away from the stove, he looks at you, where you’re already peering at him.

“Do you want to play something?” You sign to him, thinking that he might want to listen to something while you’re here together. 

Joshua’s eyes only soften as he takes in your question. “You don’t have to play anything.”

You smile bashfully. “I want to.” 

He feels a tug at his heart at the pleading expression to your face. He briefly checks the food cooking on the stove before walking to where you’re sitting on the floor, his vinyls scattered in front of you. 

“Okay,” he tells you. “Pick whichever one you want.” 

Joshua watches as you carefully pick a vinyl𑁋you end up picking The Beatles, a classic𑁋and with practiced hands, he helps you place the record on the turntable and lowers the needle. You watch as the record starts to spin and the needle settles within the grooves.

You turn toward Joshua, signing, “Is it playing?” 

The sound that comes off the record player is a bit distorted at first, but after some time, it manages to smooth out. Joshua just nods, his face lighting up with a smile at the way you appear so engrossed by the spinning record. 

Dinner comes by in a jiffy. The singular kitchen light hangs above the small table that you both are sitting at, the aroma of Joshua’s cooking wafting through the air. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but the simplicity of the meal𑁋steamed vegetables, grilled chicken, and fluffy rice𑁋makes it all the more comforting. You definitely would have preferred this over restaurant food. 

You eat slowly, savouring the flavours of each bite. You can feel Joshua's eyes on you, and you can't help but smile.

“Good?” he asks. 

You give a few enthusiastic nods, and the sight lights up Joshua’s face even further. 

The record player was still faintly playing music in the background, yet the quietness that he gets to share with you is what he cherishes the most. It’s not awkward or forced; it’s a comfortable silence that pleasantly wraps around you both. The occasional pop or crackle from the record player blends in with the sounds of your contented chewing and the soft clinking of utensils.

Afterwards, you find yourself settling on the couch in Joshua’s living room as you wait for him to come back to the bathroom, and you take the time to peer around his space.

You already know that he’s living with Jeonghan too, so you love how you’re able to easily distinguish the small snippets that belong to Joshua. Apart from the collection of vinyl records, you also see a few microphone stands and a keyboard set up in one corner, as well as an empty guitar stand where you know his guitar belongs. 

Letting your eyes drift, the coffee table in front of you catches your attention. There’s a couple of coasters, the remote for the TV, a cute succulent in the middle. But then your eyes land on something else. 

On it, you spot a book laying flat on the table. Curiosity piqued, you reach over to examine it. The book is a sign language dictionary. You open it to find that it’s filled with detailed illustrations of hand signs, and throughout the pages you see Joshua’s handwriting scattered throughout. Some of the pages are marked with sticky notes, others you spot silly doodles of smiley faces in the corners. 

You hardly ever thought about the amount of effort he put into learning how to talk to you, to understand you. A small part of you feels bad that he has to go through all this trouble to learn sign language. But then you remember that he chose to do this, that this was his decision, not yours.

The spot on the couch right next to you dips down slightly as Joshua sits down. He glances at the sign language dictionary in your hands and glances at you with a soft, curious look, and it makes you look away sheepishly.

Dropping the book in your lap, you fumble for your phone, typing out:

You did all of this for me?

When Joshua reads the message, a small chuckle leaves him. 

“I wanted to get to know you better,” he tells you, your eyes flickering between his hands and his lips. “I don’t regret it at all.” 

As his words wash over you, you feel your fingers struggle to put together how much this is affecting you. You type after a few thoughtful moments. 

It must have been hard. I’m sorry

Joshua only shakes his head. “It was worth it. I promise.” He pauses for a moment, gears turning in his head. “Do you want to know the first word I wanted to learn?” 

You watch as he picks up his right hand, opening it up so that his fingers pointed up and his thumb toward his cheek. Then he fans his fingers across his face, and closes his hand in a relaxed fist to sign the word beautiful. 

“You’re beautiful,” he finishes, his fingers gracefully forming the sign again. “I happened to have thought that the first second you walked into the café.”

You could only stare at him incredulously. Even though it isn’t the first time he’s expressed this kind of affection in your few months of being together, it still takes you by surprise, still sends those surges of flutters shooting down your limbs, still makes your mind go blank and your hands go limp.

Cowering behind a hand of your own, you motion a shy finger at him, before rolling your hand over your face, then forming a Y-shape with your hand, and shaking it slightly.

“You’re beautiful, too.” 

Joshua purses his lip together at that, suppressing the giddiness threatening to stretch across his features.

“Well,” he starts, cocking his head to the side endearingly. He won’t ever get over how adorable you are when you’re flustered. “I say we compliment each other quite well then.”

From there, the two of you let out some shared, heartfelt laughter, and it sounds like absolute music to Joshua’s ears. He shows you the pages he’s gone through in the book𑁋from the alphabet and grammar, to basic common phrases, and to more, nuanced, complex sentences𑁋and it looks like he’s more than halfway done with reading and annotating through it. He eagerly points out the words and phrases he's already mastered, and the ones he's still struggling with. It's cute seeing the little doodles and notes he's written in the margins.

When he places the book back on the table and turns to you, a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“I can teach you,” You sign to him, a willing passion in your hands. 

Joshua lifts a brow, copying your movement. “Teach me?” 

When you nod, his face morphs into a pensive look. After a few moments, he brightens back up.

“How about the seasons?” he suggests. “We can start with those.”

You begin with spring. Your hands move as if they’re opening up to new life, the gesture mimicking the blossoming of flowers. Joshua watches intently, his eyes following your movements carefully, before mimicking the motion a few times. 

Next, you move on to summer. You form a fist with your palms down at your forehead, before taking your index finger and drawing it across your brow a few times, almost as if you’re wiping away a drip of sweat. 

For autumn, you use your hands to mimic falling leaves from a tree off your non-dominant elbow, making a gentle fluttering motion. 

Finally, you teach him winter. You simply make a shivering motion, as if you’re cold, and Joshua chuckles as he imitates the sign. You watch in awe as he successfully goes through the signs a few times without a hitch. Giving him a few rounds of claps, he gives a shy, pleased smile, clearly proud of his progress.

“I hope we…” Joshua starts, some unsureness flowing through his hands, but he signs the seasons so easily (unbeknownst to you, he already knew them). “...we get to see spring, summer, autumn, and winter together.” 

Perhaps he could feel the way your heart swells in his hands, because he’s cradling it so preciously as he speaks, and he looks at you with such hopeful eyes.

You want to spend every single season with him. 

Later that night, you find yourself standing in front of the sink in Joshua’s kitchen, washing the dishes because you lost him to a game of rock-paper-scissors. 

As you’re rinsing off the final dish, a light tap lands on your shoulder, making you wince for a second before quickly relaxing. A pair of arms then sneaks around your waist, pulling you close and causing you to nearly lose your grip on the plate. 

Joshua gently rests his chin on your shoulder from behind. His breath hits your neck as he wraps his arms around you. He stays like this for a few moments, simply savouring the closeness of your presence against him. Then, with a mischievous smile that you don't see, he brings a finger up and slowly begins to trace your back lightly with the tip, almost like a whisper against your skin.

I…

Curious and slightly ticklish, you crane your neck slightly to look back at him over your shoulder, scrunching your face up as you try to focus on deciphering what he’s trying to write.

… l… o… v… e…

Joshua pauses momentarily, sneaking a glance at the way you’re standing so still in his hold, before tracing the final letters.

…y… o… u.

Eyes widening, you shift around in order to face him, and Joshua rests his arms on either side of you, hands gripping onto the counter behind and practically enclosing you in. 

He leans in, and the world seems to narrow altogether. His half-lidded eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, as if asking for permission, and you could only anticipate what’s coming next as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Chuckling softly, Joshua inches even closer to you, and you feel his nose lightly brush against yours. But instead of pressing his lips against yours, he first kisses your forehead softly, making you shoot your eyes open in a bit of a confused daze. 

But before you can fully process everything, he’s leaning in once again, and this time, his lips gently meet against the tip of your nose. You crinkle it back as a pout runs across your mouth, and Joshua’s grin widens even more. 

“What’s with the face?” he teases, feigning a hurt look. “Is it because I haven’t kissed you properly yet?” 

You answer with him a shy, petty tug at the fabric of his shirt. 

“Give me a smile then,” Joshua insists impishly. “Please?”

Just from that alone, a shy curve sprouts at your lips, and Joshua just watches with a satisfied look. 

“Hmm,” he hums skeptically, but is leaning in closer anyway. “I’ll take it.” 

Then he finally kisses you, mouth moving with an ardent sweetness against yours that renders you breathless. He playfully chases after you as you manage to escape out of his grasp. But he’s quick to catch up to you anyway, the sounds of your giggles mingling with the soft crackling of the record player as you both collapse on top of the couch. 

You tentatively trace I love you on his back when you’re both settled on the couch together, legs intertwined and your head perched at the crook of his neck. He’s asleep, you consider𑁋you can tell by the way you feel his chest rising and falling against yours. 

Yet after you write those words, a shaky, relieved exhale leaves him that you don’t hear.

“All you have to do,” Jihoon starts, offering a seemingly heavyweight set of headphones in his other hand towards Joshua. “is press play right here, and tell me what you think.”

Joshua takes hold of the headphones as Jihoon scoots a bit of his chair away to give him some room. He places it carefully over his ears, feeling the soft cushions envelop them. Then after taking a deep breath, he reaches over to press the play button on the keyboard, and Joshua can feel his heart racing in anticipation. 

Upon playing, he’s greeted with the familiar sounds of his guitar filling his ears, and then his voice comes in. Hearing himself in such a professionally produced track and not just as raw vocals bouncing off the walls of his room is absolutely unbelievable. He could also pinpoint the subtle layers Jihoon has added to the track𑁋a faint drumbeat and soft vocal harmonies. 

It was a song that was once simple lyrics in a dusty journal and a few rough guitar chords. It wasn’t meant to be anything grand; it was originally a personal project made on a whim in the middle of the night just to channel his feelings and his dreams into something palpable. 

But now, hearing it with such rich yet attenuated production for the first time, it feels as if the song has taken on a life of its own. 

“Holy𑁋wow,” Joshua says the moment he takes off the headphones, staring at Jihoon with disbelief. “Are you sure this is my song?” 

Jihoon chuckles at that. “Positive, man.”

Joshua’s eyes remain wide. He holds the headphones in his hands, turning them over and inspecting them closely as if trying to decipher the magic hidden within. 

“I never imagined it could sound like this,” he admits meekly. “I mean, I’ve always dreamed about this, but... to actually hear it like this? It’s incredible.”

Jihoon nods encouragingly. “You had the foundation; I just built on it. I’m telling you, with the right push, it could really connect with people.”

Joshua leans back in his chair, still holding the headphones in his grasp like it's a sacred bar of gold, and lets out a deep breath. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“The recording will be on this USB drive,” Jihoon shows off a tiny, ruby red drive in his hand. “I’ll work on polishing it up a bit more, but this is essentially it. You could also gain some attention from your busking gigs. What do you say?”

Well, it’s not like he can say no to that. 

“I’m in,” Joshua replies with a grin.

The minute that he steps out of the studio later that day, a breeze of cold air suddenly nips at his cheek. Joshua brings his head up to see the sky thick with clouds, and to his amazement, delicate snowflakes begin to fall, gently drifting down and settling on his hair and shoulders. It’s the first snowfall of the season.

There’s something almost magical about the way the snow falls, he thinks. As he continues to walk through the streets, there’s a sense of renewal that washes over him, a fresh start, just like the song he’s worked so hard on and the dreams he's held at the tips of his fingers. He takes a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs, and pulls out his phone to text you. 

[05:39PM | joshua hong] Still have time to meet up later? 

Your reply comes in almost instantaneously. 

[05:41PM | y/n] just left the museum :) it’s snowing outside!!!

[05:42PM | joshua hong] Dress warmly ❤️ I’ll meet you at your place?

[05:42PM | y/n] I will. see you soon ❤️

Chuckling to himself, Joshua pulls the jacket tighter around his body and stuffs his hands inside his pockets, quickening his pace at the thought of seeing you.

When the season of spring rolls over, trees are budding with beautiful, bright green leaves and flowers are blooming in a vibrant array of colours. Spring has always been one of your favourite seasons, and this year is no different𑁋especially if you get to see it with the people close to you.

You’ve been coming back to attend your art class at the museum, and you’ve decided to pick up a small side role as a teacher’s aide to earn some extra money since more people have been enrolling into the art programs. So far, it’s been very rewarding and fulfilling, and meeting new people who share your same passions has been a joy. 

Plus, you could proudly say the spark for painting has been getting stronger and stronger each passing day. 

Wheein greets you with enthusiasm when you walk out of the classroom, explaining with annoyance about how one of the girls in her classroom was someone she heavily despised back in high school. Seungkwan shows up when you both step out of the museum, and you have to remind them that you can’t sacrifice your plans with Joshua to hang out with them at the arcade that just opened down the street. 

“They’re in their honeymoon phase,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes teasingly. 

“They’ve been in their honeymoon phase for, like, half the year now,” Wheein grumbles, though her irritation is more playful than serious. “It’s not like they’re going to stop anytime soon.”

“And Y/N is practically dating a celebrity at this point. Have you seen the way people are talking about his music online?” 

Your best friends are boasting about your relationship right in front of you, making you roll your eyes. But you can’t help the way your cheeks colour with a tad bit of embarrassment and… a hint of proudness too, because they’re right. 

Joshua has had a few more songs released under his name, and performing at the busking centre has become a regular part of his schedule, his days working at the café lessening as he’s been focusing more on his music. His performances have been slowly drawing more attention, both locally and online, and it’s clear that his passion is shining through. You’re incredibly proud of him𑁋you’ve always had been.

Your footsteps are as light as a feather by the time you reach the busking centre. There’s already a good size crowd gathered around, and you can see Joshua sitting in the middle, propped on a stool with his guitar. Seokmin is there too, sitting on a stool of his own with a microphone in front of him, and there’s one more person. Judging by the small details that Joshua alludes to𑁋with the man’s distinctive button nose and laid-back stature𑁋you could only assume it’s Jihoon sitting behind the keyboard with a calm and focused expression. 

As you, Seungkwan, and Wheein find a spot at the edge of the crowd, he seems to spot you almost immediately in the midst of singing a song, his eyes lighting up the moment they meet yours. He gives you a small smile, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth spread through your chest. Joshua looks completely at ease as he tunes his guitar, his fingers moving cleverly over the strings.

He looks really, really pretty. The sun seemed to be shining down on him in all the right ways, the sleeves of the white collared shirt that he was wearing pulled up to reveal his forearms, and a dainty pair of glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. The subtle spring breeze rumples his hair just enough to make him look effortlessly handsome. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

The entire crowd is captivated, yet it's as if he's singing directly to you, and in a way, he is. The vibrations fly through the air and hit every inch of your skin and into your chest, each note reverberating in your heart. You watch the way his lips move, the way his eyes light up, and the way the crowd responds𑁋it all tells you just how special this moment is.

As the song comes to an end, the crowd erupts in applause once again, and you find yourself brightly clapping along with everyone else. He looks over at you, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still. Then he stands up with Seokmin and Jihoon following, the three of them taking a bow together, before he sets his guitar down and makes his way toward you. 

Seungkwan and Wheein give you knowing looks before stepping aside to give you two some space, leaving to approach Seokmin and Jihoon. 

“Did you like it?” he asks while signing to you. 

You purse your lips together, shooting a musing glance up at the sky, before signing, “You already know what I think of it.” 

“In fact, I do not,” Joshua responds playfully, stepping a bit closer to you. “That’s why I’m asking you, love.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, feigning mock suspicion, and he seems to already know what you’re trying to point out. 

“Of course I’m fishing for compliments,” he adds on with a cheeky grin, endearingly wrinkling his nose that his glasses slide down just a bit. “Your opinion matters the most to me. Winning your approval means that I’ve accomplished the world, you know.” 

You can't help but laugh faintly at his words, though his earnestness warms your heart. Tentatively, you reach out to adjust his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose. His gaze follows your movements as you pull away from him slightly, the corners of his lips twitching up even further.

“It was wonderful,” You sign back bashfully. A blush creeps up your cheeks as you realise how cheesy it sounds, but Joshua’s features only soften as he reads your hands and catches a glimpse of a twinkle in your eyes when you look at him. 

He reaches down and takes one of your hands into his. “That was all that I needed to know.” Then he glances at the time displayed on his phone and looks back at you. “The aquarium is still open, right?” 

Your eyes widen at that𑁋that’s right, you were too caught in the moment that you nearly forgot about your plans𑁋and you give an eager nod.

“Perfect,” Joshua chips eagerly, his hand squeezing yours encouragingly. “The painting you did the other week reminded me of the jellyfish exhibit.”

“This awfully feels like a break-up.”

Joshua furrows his brows at that while folding one of his shirts and placing it inside a box. “What are you even talking about?”

“You’re breaking up with me,” Jeonghan retaliates jokingly, fauxing a sulky pout. “and moving out. I thought we had something special going on here.”

“You were the one who wanted me to move out in the first place.”

Jeonghan sighs dramatically, slumping his body against the doorframe of Joshua's now half-empty room. “That was before I realised how lonely it would be without you here. And now you’re spreading your wings and flying off.”

As sarcastic as that sounds, the corners of Joshua’s lips turn up fondly. If it weren’t for Jeonghan taking him in as his roommate from the very beginning ever since moving away, he wouldn’t lie about feeling a little sentimental. 

After packing up the remains of his clothes, Joshua stands up from sitting on his ass on the floor for two hours straight, crossing his arms together and shooting Jeonghan a pointed look. “You know I’m only going to be living like… fifteen minutes away, right? And I’ll still be working at the café.”

“I’m officially putting you as full-time then.” Jeonghan’s lips quirk up in a smirk.

“Screw that,” Joshua huffs with a laugh. “I’ve already got enough on my plate.”

“Right, because you’re so famous,” Jeonghan remarks exaggeratingly. “Heard you signed a napkin for someone the other day.” 

Joshua snorts at that in response. Okay, he’s certainly not as famous as Jeonghan depicts him to be, but apparently famous enough for someone to approach him and ask for his autograph on a napkin. Apart from the gigs in the busking centre, he also has a few social media accounts set up where he can post song covers on occasion and drop updates about his music. 

All he has is his presence, a guitar, and a dream that’s slowly taking shape right before him. He knows it’s a long road ahead, but even with the small progress that’s been made so far, he’s hopeful, determined.

The new apartment is small but cozy. It’s not much, but it’s a place to call his own𑁋his own little corner of the world. He decides it’s not worth the energy right now to unpack everything and instead settles on top of the lone mattress that’s currently on the middle of the floor, feeling both exhausted and oddly content. 

He stretches his body on top of the soft surface and lets out a sigh of relief as he sinks into the mattress, gazing aimlessly at the barren ceiling above him. The remnants of packing are scattered about the place, with boxes sitting in corners and unopened bags lying around. His guitar sits on its stand right next to the window. There are still many things to figure out𑁋how to decorate the place, where to put everything, what this all means for his future. 

But for now, he allows himself this moment of stillness; this brief, quiet pause before turning the page to the next chapter.

After nearly nodding off, a few knocks at the door jolt him awake. He blinks in surprise, pushing himself up from the mattress. Stretching out his tired limbs, he makes his way to the door, opening it to find you standing on the other side. 

You stand there with a bag clutched at your side, suspended under the singular hallway light that highlights the fondness in your eyes. You shake the bag lightly.

“Food?” You sign to him.

Joshua swears his heart drops down to his knees just from that alone, his exhaustion melting away from your simple offer. Then his stomach rumbles, as if in agreement, reminding him that he hasn’t exactly had a proper meal the majority of the day from how busy he was with moving in. The nod he gives you makes you chuckle.

As you step inside his new place for the first time, you take a moment to gaze around at the barren walls and scattered boxes. Like any new, fresh canvas, the space holds so much potential and possibilities. If it’s home for Joshua, then it’s also… home for you too. 

The two of you sit down cross-legged on the mattress while unpacking the bag of its contents. The aroma of takeout food travels through the air. You spread out the food between you, and Joshua seems to light up upon seeing the familiar, comforting dishes.

Sharing a meal together feels a bit different now. You don’t exactly know why, but there’s a subtle shift in the air you haven’t noticed until this very moment. There’s a sense of beginning, of making this place feel like home, and it’s oddly intimate. It's a blank slate waiting to be filled with new memories. New memories that you can’t wait to make with him. 

Joshua feels a nudge at his knee while chewing on a sushi roll, seeing that you’re holding out your phone for him to read. 

Can I show you something? 

He swallows his bite of sushi and looks up at you with curiosity, taking a second to clear his mouth while giving a nod.

Shrugging off the nerves, you set your plate of food down to reach into the bag. You pull out a small canvas, and when you turn it over to show him, it shows a beautifully painted scene of a sunset casting over the horizon. The vibrant hues of yellow and orange blend seamlessly with soft blues and purples. Along with that, the silhouette of a couple sitting together𑁋with one leaning their head on the other’s shoulder𑁋under a tree completes the picture. 

Joshua reaches out to touch the canvas, letting a fingertip caress over its coarse surface.

“This is beautiful,” he tells you. “Did you make this for me?”

You nod, and he watches closely as you type on your phone.

I wanted to give you your first piece of decoration for your new place

Joshua’s eyes soften as he reads your message, the warmth in his chest spreading to his entire body.

“It’s perfect, honey,” he says. “I’ll be sure to hang it somewhere special.”

In your eyes, you can already imagine it hung on the empty wall beside the window, where the morning light will cast a gentle glow on it and bring the colours to life. In your eyes, you can imagine your easel sitting right below it, with Joshua’s guitar propped right beside it…

“I should have the stuff to hang it in one of the boxes. I’m not sure which one though.” Joshua’s eyes flicker between the unopened boxes standing intimidatingly in the corner of the room, letting out a small, airy laugh. “But I’ll find it soon, I promise.”

You give him a warm, reassuring smile, as if conveying that there wasn’t any rush in finding it right now. 

When you both finish eating and cleaning up, you find yourself sitting on the mattress, body turned so that you are staring out the window of Joshua’s apartment, reveling in the stillness of the summer night and the way moonlight filters on the wall. Your silhouette is quickly joined by another one as Joshua settles closely beside you, your shoulders brushing lightly. 

At the corner of your eye, a glowing phone screen catches your attention, on it displayed a message from Joshua. 

What are you thinking about? 

The question almost seems silly somehow, yet you ponder for a few moments, before taking the phone to type back: 

I made a big decision today

Joshua lifts up an intrigued brow, and he tilts his head inquisitively at you, the soft brown tones of his eyes glistening like honey. It makes you lose your train of thought briefly as your fingers drift clumsily across the screen.

I’m going to participate in the upcoming exhibition at the museum. I’ve been thinking of trying again for a while now

“You are?” Joshua’s eyes widen. “When is it going to be?” 

“During fall,” You sign in response.

Fall isn’t that far away. The reminder seems to gnaw uneasily at your nerves, and Joshua notices it right away. 

“Feeling nervous about it?” he asks. 

You nod slowly, the weight of your decision settling heavily in your chest.

“It’s okay to be nervous. I know it didn’t go well last time,” Joshua continues. “But, well𑁋you already know what I’m going to say, right?” 

Now, the nod you give is a bit more confident. You bring your hands up to sign, “I believe in you.” You wonder if it’s his favourite phrase, since he’s said it to you so many times before. It holds a special place in your quiet conversations. 

“Exactly.” He wiggles a playful finger in front of your face, the moonlight makes his eyes twinkle with reassurance. “I believe in you. I’ve seen the way you pour your heart into your art. No matter what, you’re going to shine, love. And you have to believe in yourself too, okay? That’s the most important step.”

Joshua reaches over to grab your hand into his, squeezing firmly, before bringing it up to his lips to place a kiss right at your knuckles. You melt at that𑁋probably into the mattress at this point𑁋and hang your head down bashfully. 

When the silence rolls over again, you lean your head on Joshua’s shoulder, your silhouettes intertwining together on the wall.

Maybe this is where you belong, after all. 

There’s a quiet comfort you find in the palette of fall: the colours of leaves changing to warm oranges, reds, and yellows, the subtle crispness of the air that reminds you of the sweet taste of cinnamon rolls, and the way the sunlight feels a little softer on your skin.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your head. This is it. The moment you’ve been dreading and anticipating for weeks. You toy anxiously with the sleeves of your cardigan as you walk into the museum, the grand hall stretching out before your eyes. 

It’s all familiar just like last year𑁋the same setup, some familiar and new faces. More people are probably participating than last time since the art program has grown exponentially, and the thought fills you up with trepidation, if anything. Wheein is also here too engaging in the exhibition, Seungkwan was going to come later, and Joshua had already texted you that he's on his way after ending his performance at the busking centre early (though you insisted he didn’t have to… yet he did anyway) though you’re unsure when he’s going to arrive.

Along with the other artists in the room, you take a seat as you wait for the exhibition to finally begin. Then you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you perk up to see Wheein quickly engulfing you in a hug before pulling away.

“Jeez, there you are! You’re sitting like a wallflower and I couldn’t find you anywhere,” she rambles quickly that you don’t entirely catch what she’s saying, but you could tell she’s nervous too. She takes a visible breath, and brings her hands up. “How are you feeling? Heard there’s more competition this time.” 

You offer her a small, reassuring smile. “Nervous, but excited. I feel more prepared.”

Wheein nods, her eyes lighting up at that. “Good. You've got this.” She glances around the room before turning back to you. “See you on the other side?”

“Definitely,” You assure her, feeling a surge of confidence flow through you. 

Wheein squeezes your hand with a firm look one last time before moving off to find her own spot. A short while later, the exhibition officially begins with a long speech by the museum director once more. There’s still no sign of Joshua anywhere, but you tell yourself that you got this. 

Ignoring your sweaty palms, you spot your artwork hanging on the wall. It feels like a small part of you is now on display. And for the first time, there’s a feeling of pride that wraps around you comfortably. You feel more prepared than last time; with the help of Wheein, you wrote down some written statements you could present to the critics and the visitors who come by if they ever ask about your piece. 

A few minutes later, an interpreter approaches you𑁋one who isn't late this time, thankfully𑁋and you greet her with a friendly nod. She offers a kind smile to you, and you feel a bit more at ease, knowing that you’ll be able to communicate effectively with any critics and curators. 

As people start to crowd around the extravagant hall, you find yourself observing their reactions from a distance. Some pause to study your piece closely while reading the written statements you prepared. Others seem to take in the scene with thoughtful silence and then move on to the next artist after you. However, before you know it, time seems to slip away fairly quickly, and you’re surrounded by a sea of curious faces willing to engage in discussions about your painting. 

It’s a bit overwhelming having to explain and answer to so many people at once where you can feel their eyes practically boring into you, but you’ve rehearsed this part so many times that you feel yourself becoming more comfortable, more natural in the way you’re confiding in your work. 

As much as art can be interpreted, reinterpreted, and misinterpreted, you know that in the end, beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. Your work is supposed to continue conversations, not end them. And you hope that yours does just that.

After talking to a sweet-looking old couple, you take a moment to catch your breath. You can’t tell if the stars have possibly aligned for you or if it’s just the magic of the night that’s making everything feel so right.

Just as you're starting to relax a bit, a familiar, comforting sight at the corner of your eye captures your attention. And when you bring your head back up to welcome the next visitor, you find Joshua right in front of you, coming up with his arms behind his back and a playful look on his face. He’s dressed in a comfortable navy blue sweater and a pair of beige jeans, appearing effortlessly handsome and soft as always. 

“Hello,” he greets warmly before stopping in front of you, letting his eyes trail past you in order to roam over the large painting that sat behind. So this is what you’ve been keeping a surprise all this time. “Your painting is beautiful. Can you tell me more about it?” 

You blink in surprise at his sudden performance on being a visitor, biting back a smile creeping up your lips and the affectionate flutters bursting in your stomach. 

Gesturing to the painting, you start to explain as your interpreter steps in to translate to Joshua. You start with the basics of your piece: the inspiration, the styles and techniques you used, and what you hoped to convey, and Joshua listens attentively, though he seems to be more focused on you than anything else. For some reason, him being the only one standing here is making you more nervous than the group of people you talked to earlier. 

“I could see the passion you put into your piece,” Joshua says softly. “It’s admirable. It was the first thing that caught my eye when I walked in here and I could tell that there’s something truly special about it𑁋that there’s a lot of heart in it. So thank you for sharing this part of you to the world. You have a gift, honestly.”

You find every ounce of wanting to thank him shy away as a blush rises to your cheeks. Instead, you give a small nod, head hanging down as if the floor was the most interesting sight in the world, feeling overwhelmed by his words. If you look at him, you’d feel like you would melt into a puddle on the floor.

Joshua chuckles quietly at your reaction before giving you one last lingering look. You watch as his shoes walk out of your line of sight, his presence leaving behind a comforting feeling to settle in your chest, right by your heart. You feel like you can conquer the world right now. 

When you finally bring your head back up, you don't spot him anywhere. For a moment, you scan the large room, looking for the familiar navy blue sweater, but you assume he’s already moved on to another part of the exhibition. 

You let out a breath you hardly noticed you were holding until now. 

As the evening winds down and time is getting closer to the dreaded announcement of results, the atmosphere in the museum starts to shift from the excitement of the exhibition to a more anticipatory hush as everyone returns back to their seats. The tremble in your hands returns back once more as you peer around anxiously, hoping to see some sight of a familiar face𑁋of Joshua, of your best friends, of anything. 

Minutes later, Wheein and Seungkwan run up to you with wide, beaming grins. Joshua isn’t with them, though. Your shoulders deflate slightly.

“They’re about to announce the results!” Wheein exclaims, signing to you with more enthusiasm than you can ever have right now. “How do you feel?”

“I swear I saw so many people gathered at your painting earlier,” Seungkwan adds in. “That’s got to be a good sign, right?”

“Not all the time,” Wheein reassures him with a disappointed tone, but she keeps a light-hearted smile. “Usually it just means people were interested, but hey, it’s definitely a good sign! You should be proud of yourself, no matter what happens, Y/N, okay?”

You force a smile at that, trying to hide the nervousness that’s crawling up your spine. You're not sure if you're ready to hear the results, yet at the same time, there’s a pang of excitement that’s hard to not acknowledge too.

The museum director steps up to the podium once everyone scrambles to return to their seats. You shoot glances around the room, spotting familiar faces, some looking calm and composed, others nervously tapping their feet or fidgeting with their clothes. You can hardly catch up with the way your heart is racing like it's running on overdrive, but you attempt to readjust your focus to the director. 

“Now, I would like to formally express congratulations to all who have claimed a place in this year’s annual exhibition. We had an outstanding number of participants and submissions this year. It was a very challenging time for the judges…”

The director’s voice is steady, yet each word that you watch leave his mouth seems to stretch on as your nerves make the second feel like minutes then to hours. Your palms have become clammy, and you grip your hands into tight fists, your nails digging into the skin of your palm. 

“…the judges have taken into consideration to select the works that stood out in originality, technique, and emotional impact. And now, for the results…”

Your breath catches as the director begins to announce the winners slowly but surely, one by one, heartbeat thumping stronger with each one. The names come and go, each following with a few moments of applause erupting around the room that you echo along with as the artists hop onto the stage to retrieve their certification from the director. It’s like a momentary pause of time before the next. 

The moments that pass feel as if a small weight is being lifted from your shoulders, only to be replaced by a heavier, more pressing sense of anticipation, of dread, of doubt. Déjà vu starts to seep into your thoughts as you bite at your bottom lip and bring your eyes down from the stage, feeling your chest tightening with hopelessness. There’s no point. 

And it’s because you’ve become so attuned to your thoughts that you don’t notice the collective murmur of excitement that ripples through the crowd right before you. You pick up to clap your hands for the name was just called, only to be met with quite literally everyone’s faces on you. Nothing but confusion clouds your mind. 

Are they… clapping for you?

The realisation hits you hard, and for a few long seconds, you’re caught between disbelief and elation. Your body feels absolutely frozen in place; everyone’s mouth is moving too fast for you to fully process; the world around you feels like it’s spinning. The moment seems to stretch into an endless void, and you can barely believe what’s happening. The crowd’s faces blur into a sea of smiles and congratulations… for you. 

Your name𑁋your artwork𑁋had been recognised.

You nearly tumble on the way to the front at the way your legs feel numb underneath you, each step feeling as if you’re floating on air. Perhaps this is really just one, long, tortuous dream, but the way your trembling hands clutch the certificate as you receive it from the director feels startlingly real. 

The director offers you a handshake and an acknowledging smile, but you hardly register it all in your mind. In those short moments, you take the opportunity to swiftly scan the room, catching sight of Wheein and Seungkwan clapping happily for you, and Joshua standing right next to them. He’s clapping along too𑁋is that a bouquet of flowers in his hands?𑁋with a warm, proud smile painted across his features. You consider it more important than any of the applause around the room; more important than the award itself, ironically.

You make your way back to your seat, the certificate feeling both heavy and light in your hands. Every congratulatory smile that the other artists send to you is like a burst of warmth against the cool autumn night.

As the last of the names are called, you find yourself drifting among the crowd, eyes in search of your friends. But it isn’t long for your body to be engulfed by the arms of Wheein and Seungkwan who have managed to squeeze their way through the crowd to find you, their faces glowing with uncontainable excitement.

“Y/N, you did it!” Wheein exclaims, her eyes glistening with joy as she shakes you by the shoulders. “I knew you could! I’m so proud of you!”

“I told you it was a good sign!” Seungkwan remarks to Wheein before facing you with a wide grin. “Shit, I’m about to cry again𑁋I’m so happy for you, Y/N!”

As their words sink in, an overwhelming bubble of triumph grows within you. A shaky laugh leaves you as they continue to shower you with their happiness, heat beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes from how much your heart feels so fully right now. 

Wheein drags Seungkwan by the wrist to greet the other artists, and you’re left standing at the very side of the museum, gazing wandering around through all the faces within your vicinity. You don’t see any sign of Joshua anywhere. Did he get lost? 

With that, you pull your phone out to text him, before your eyes widen in surprise at the way you missed a message from him sent five minutes ago. You were a bit too distracted by everything else that you didn’t feel the notification of his text.

[09:03PM | joshua hong] I’ll meet you outside ❤️

Without any hesitation, you slip your phone back into your pocket and make your way toward the exit of the museum, leaving behind the lively inside and into the peaceful night. The cool autumn air greets you with a refreshing embrace as you step outside, the sky painted with the soft hues of dusk.

Joshua isn’t standing that much farther away from you, spotting him waiting idly by the small gate at the entrance of the museum, a singular spotlight shining down on him from above. As you start to approach him, he seems to notice and turns his body toward you, a smile spreading across his lips. 

“What are you doing out here?” You sign to him curiously.

Joshua’s lips form a thin line in thought, signing back expressively while answering, “Too noisy in there, and I thought you deserved some fresh air. Plus, I wanted to give you something.”

After that, he pulls out the bouquet of flowers from behind his back and extends it toward you with a sheepish look.

“I know you probably already saw them, but I couldn’t hide it any longer,” he tells you. “Congratulations, my love.”

The pleasant fragrance of the flowers float to your nostrils as you take them into your grasp. The flowers themselves are a perfect assortment of colours you find dear to your heart, like each one was personally handpicked for you. The thought and everything else has heat prickling at the corners of your eyes. It’s all too much and just enough at the same time.

Joshua grabs ahold of your hand, pulling you close to him so that one of your arms is wrapped around his waist. He places a small kiss on the top of your head before leaning down to look into your eyes.

“Look at you,” he coos softly, perhaps a pinch of tease behind his words you detect. “You’re glowing.” 

You nearly laugh at that, coming out as a shaky and probably ugly snort instead that makes you bury your face into Joshua’s shoulder. Maybe you are glowing, maybe it’s just the spotlight hanging over, or maybe you’re just too happy to even care. You feel his chest lifting and receding from the laughs of his own as you cling to him. For a moment, everything else fades away𑁋the museum, the crowd, the nerves.

When you pull away slightly, he’s still looking at you, taking the chance to let a finger slowly caress the skin of your cheek. There’s stars in his eyes that you could pinpoint, ones that seem to shine brighter than even the largest of constellations. You feel like you could get lost in them, in him, and for a moment, you do. Your breath hitches in your throat. 

A gentle breeze carries the scent of fallen leaves, the soft rustling of leaves surrounding the two of you. It's as if the world has paused, giving you a moment to simply be with each other.

You bring the arm that was around his waist back to your side. He still holds you by the hips as you bring a hand up to sign.

“I know that I can’t hear,” You start to sign slowly, his gaze flickering down to your hands curiously. “but I can feel your voice when you hold me.”

Joshua nods thoughtfully. He seems to contemplate something for a moment, before bringing his hands from your hips and up to sign. 

“How does it make you feel?” 

You purse your lips in thought, trying to find the right signs to express what you're feeling. It's hard to put into words, or even signs, the way you feel when you're with him.

“Safe… loved…” You draw your fingers graciously through the air, and Joshua’s eyes soften with affection as he watches. “...heard… understood…”

The words fly off your hands and swirl around like a planet orbiting its sun. As you peer into Joshua's eyes, you know he understands. He's always understood.

“I want…” You begin hesitantly, somewhat feeling silly at what you’re about to ask from him. “...to feel you say something to me.” 

Joshua’s eyes widen slightly, and he tilts his head intriguingly, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

You start with taking the fingertip of your hand touching your chin, before drawing it away in the form of a small arc. Next, you point to yourself, then you point towards him. Taking both arms, you cross your arms over your chest as if you were hugging yourself. And then finally, you point back at yourself. 

“Tell me that you love me.” 

A faint hint of a smirk crosses his features, before it softens into a simple look, a simple smile. Joshua just steps back forward and takes you back into his embrace, letting you press yourself against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close enough that you could possibly even feel his heartbeat. You love feeling that as well.

You swear that if there was one place you could stay in forever, it would be in his arms. And right now, it was only the beginning of something beautiful.

“I love you,” he tells you. For the first time, you don't read his lips to know he said it, yet you feel those three words resonate through your entire being and down to the very core of your heart, just where they belong.

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@lullips

[sillyblues]

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

SYNOPSIS—*ೃ༄ you have lost three times. the first time, you lost your home. the second time, you lost yourself. the third time, you lost everything on a man who would rather lose you than lose everything.

CW—*ೃ༄ fem reader, spoilers on some mcu movies

NOTES—*ೃ༄ it's finally here HELP

masterlist

You were absolutely not normal.

You understood this at a young age when you were bitten by a spider in your backyard and gained not only your consciousness but also powers like shooting a spider web as you frantically waved your arms everywhere. As a three-year-old, you could barely handle the awareness of your surroundings and identity, much more your abilities that you could barely control. You did what any other toddler your child would do. You cried hard and loud until your parents burst through the door scrambling to get you in panic.

At three years old, you already had your first existential crisis.

When you turned five, you could confidently say that you could control your abilities now. No more random bursts of spider webs that took too long to clean up with both your fathers, no more falling in the middle of your wall and ceiling climbing and giving your fathers heart attacks, no more sudden turning of invisibility that made you and your parents cry at the thought of you never to be seen again. Just kidding, there will be more of that but hey, at least you were more in control now. 

When you thought you finally understood what you were capable of, you were instantly proven wrong when a portal opened out of nowhere in your backyard again. The portal was glitching and a variety of colours were swirling so beautifully, almost luring you in and you did. Because you were five and adventures seemed fun, it was like an itch in your brain that can only be relieved if you follow your instincts as a child. 

So you went in and falling into that hole was the most fun you have felt in your life and at the end of your fall, you landed on the concrete ground on top of a building. It hurt but you were used to it so it was fine. You healed pretty easily anyways so you didn’t care anyways. But what you did care about was the fact the place you were currently in was vastly different to where you were just seconds ago.

Sky-high buildings were all over the place and violets and dark skies and neon lights were decorated. It was very much unlike your bright, sunny sky and small houses on your block. At first, you thought you teleported into a different country or hell, even a different continent altogether. It wasn’t until when you swung down and walked down the streets, a man grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side.

“What’s a child like you doing here all alone?” the man with the exact features of your dad frowned, with the only difference being that he looked gruffer, sad, and more miserable.

“Dad!” you engulfed his legs in a hug.

“The hell…? I don’t have a child,” he held the collar of your shirt and pulled you away from him, “Who are you? Who sent you?”

His cold gaze sent shivers down your spine and his oppressing voice scared you. This was not your dad. Your dad was someone who could barely say any insult, much less cuss and would even hit your father if he so much mumble the word “hell”. 

This was not your dad. This was not your universe.

With a cry, a portal opened behind you and you pushed the man hard until he stumbled. You heard him exclaim in pain and shock at how a small child like you overpower an adult like him even for just a moment and you felt so guilty for hurting him. Even though he wasn’t your dad, you felt so bad for hurting him and you wanted to rush into him and hug him and cry onto his chest and apologize—but you can’t. Because he wasn’t your father. So you ran into the portal ignoring his yells.

You thought that you would come home. That you would see your dad and father waiting for you with open arms or at least, scold you where had you been and stop making them worry. You hoped. You believed. But reality proved you wrong once more as you entered not your universe but another one where everything feels like texturized. Colours were changing and it did not seem like it blended and lines were there.

This was not your universe.

At five years old, you lost your universe and had no way back home.

By thirteen years old, you slowly started to forget your home. You jumped to one universe and another to find answers of why you could barely find your universe. You did everything to even just find a clue. Loneliness and jealousy accompanied you as you watched children so happy with their families. Fear and anxiety greeted you when you found out there were no other versions of you. Betrayal walked side by side with you with so many greedy hands wanting to take your multiverse traveling power for their wants (you could never forget the way one Sorcerer Supremem wanted to absorb your soul just so he could be in an alternate universe where he was happy). Despair seeped into your every pore you when you finally pieced enough clues to find a definitive answer. 

You were not supposed to live.

At thirteen years old, you lost all hope and ultimately, yourself.

When you were eighteen years old, you had begun to accept your reality and even settled on one universe where you lived and studied thanks to some of the friends you made. You even made some Spiderpeople friends in other universes and thanks to that, you officially became one as well even if you mostly do is help them from the sidelines (you either confuse villains with two Spiders or call the police). Sometimes if the situation calls for it, you had to be a villain just so you could help save humanity in other worlds but maybe that was just a part of what makes you a Spider.

At eighteen years old, you were beginning to live.

When you turned 21, you started to encounter beings who tested the limits of the multiverse and almost succeeded. Peter Parker, another Spiderman and a friend of yours, decided to cast a spell that cost him the memories of his world. You met America Chavez, a girl who was just like you, hunted for your abilities to travel between the multiverse and the Witch who lost herself because all she wanted was just to be happy.

By then, you met a lot of people, different people from different universes despite having the same identity (except for America because just like you, there was no other version of her).

But you have never met someone, the same person, in different worlds despite having alternate versions of himself.

tag-list: @belos-simp69 @memospacexx @etherealton @lexingtoon @speaker15 @loonalockley @fandoms-run-my-life @gg-trini @julesandro @manchuria @wonderahgase @nyxhatesme @yumeneji @bookish-bimbo @lordmypantsaresocool @@tortilla-chips-and-allioli @johanseongs @nuhteyam @toji-whore

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

S/O brought Skeleton to a pride parade

Undertale Sans - You are a bit worried because the crowd is gigantic and your skeleton is very small. After like ten minutes, you completely lose him and starts to freak out, only to find him an hour later on a float full of trans people, just hanging there, charming everyone around. He usually doesn't have an opportunity to show off his trans puns because people don't know he's trans so he's having fun!

Undertale Papyrus - He got immediately kidnapped by the lesbians. Undyne wanted him, Alphys wanted him, so now all the lesbians want him. He is now in bright pink, with flags painted on every bone visible, and he's a very proud lesbian as well right now! He's a little confused about what's going on to be honnest, but everyone is happy so he's happy! He was supposed to say he's aromantic though? Oh well, that works too!

Underswap Sans - He's a little too excited, and the people screaming everywhere is not helping. Blue is on hyper mode, running everywhere as well, carrying flags, water bottles and banners from one part of the pride to another. He's like the official messenger between the two ends of the parade. He's having fun, and for once he's even tired when it's time to go home!

Underswap Papyrus - He accepted to take care of a child for five minutes, and now everyone is giving him their children and he's so confused??? He's hanging at the end of the parade with ten children or so as their parents are walking and parading. It's fine with him though. He feels safer out of the crowd, even though it means he gets to be insulted more often by the stupid queerphobe people waiting for the pride to arrive to insult them. But that's fine, he doesn't care. He has his three service dogs with him and they're big enough to scare the pests away.

Underfell Sans - He ditched you to flirt with the gay float people. You're a bit offended until you realize he's doing this only to climb on the float because he's so tired of walking and would gladly sell all of his limbs if it means he can sits on one of the floats lol. If it doesn't work, he goes to flatter the acearo people. And he's going to try this with every float he finds.

Underfell Papyrus - You're surprised not so much people are insulting you this year. That is until you notice Edge giving a death glare to a Karen about to insult some trans people. What's even cuter is that he has Frisk on his shoulders the all time and a unicorn horn on the head that the kid insisted he wore. He's acting more as a royal guard than he is having fun though.

Horrortale Sans - He has no idea how the hell he ended on a float in the middle of a huge crowd. He's so confused what's going on. His hands and face are painted with random colour flags and he's staring at everyone in complete confusion. Some random people he pretty sure he never met kept checking on him once in a while to give him water and food so it's not too bad. It's rare people are friendly with him.

Horrortale Papyrus - People noticed he was struggling to walk, but was very determined to parade with everyone. He cried when a random person proposed to give him their wheelchair to rest for a bit. He's a bit overwhelmed by everyone kindness. He talked with a lot of disabled queer people during this pride and learned quite a few things. He's a bit sad when it ends and insistes to stay in touch with everyone.

Swapfell Sans - He went just because his S/O wanted him to come, he got out of there having an existential crisis as he realized he might be asexual. He's not sure what to do about it, he needs to think this a little more.

Swapfell Papyrus - He's on high heels, dancing on a float, and he's having so much fun. He didn't know pride were a thing and now he wants to go to every of them. He had no idea people could celebrate being gay. It's just so normal for Monsterkind it's a little cultural shock. He loves it though! He can show off his body, look at him go!

Fellswap Gold Sans - He had no idea humans could be genderfluid too??? Why does he discovers this only now? He spends the day talking with enby people and has his mind blown as he discovers there's a ton of differents way to be non binary??? He promised all of them once he takes the control of the world, they will have good places in his kingdom. Everyone is a bit confused, but ok???

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's holding your hand for dear life and he's terrified to let go. There are too many people around, too much noise and too much colours everywhere for him to focus. He's probably going to have a panic attack in ten minutes or so, but he's holding on!

[labyrinthhofmymind]

some jily 7th year stuff cause we need more of them and i’m obsessed:

the marauders officially initiate lily into their nerdy group (this involves them ominously inviting her into their dorm like they’re some sort of cult) and showing her the marauders map and the invisibility cloak (she proceeds to have a full on existential crisis because she cannot believe the four idiots in front of her have such powerful objects in their possession) they also try and give her a nickname but she refuses (they ignore her)

lily practically lives in the boys dorm room. she sleeps in james’ bed most nights, and has become so accustomed to them all walking around half naked. she always wakes up when james goes to early quidditch practice, but she’s never annoyed about it, only giving him a kiss and telling him to kick butt on the field (she obviously then goes back to sleep afterwards) during the times james is up late or up early, lily will literally just sleep in his bed alone, something the marauders also get accustomed to quite quickly (one night sirius jumped into james’ bed cause he wanted some cuddles but was horrified to find lily there instead, it only took a couple of minutes before sirius wound up sleeping beside lily, an activity they would end up doing quite often, both of them just wanting a sibling that loves them)

lily is the biggest cheerleader for james at all of his quidditch games, painting cute little gryffindor coloured flags on her face and making banners. it gets to the big quidditch game at the end of the year and james is so nervous, but lily makes it her personal mission to get him a good breakfast, an early night in bed, and as calm as possible (it works cause it’s lily evans obviously) and every single time james wins (or loses) a game he will fly over to lily and give her a kiss

for james’ 17th birthday, lily decided she wants to throw the biggest party in hogwarts history for him. using her connections from all the houses, as well as her good graces with the teachers and excellent leadership (and bribery) skills, she creates a whole committee dedicated to throwing james the best party ever. the party has everything james loves, even his parents (lily got them to appear in the fireplace via the floo network so he could talk to them on his birthday) and nearly the whole school rocks up (because everyone loves james potter) at some point during the night james takes lily and hides out in the astronomy tower so they can have a moment alone. lily’s worried that it’s because james doesn’t like his party but james assures her that that’s not it, and even starts getting emotional, saying that no one’s ever cared for him like she does, and that even after everything, he feels like he doesn’t deserve her. lily ofc also gets emotional, and they both just sit there stargazing for the rest of the night, gushing about how much they love each other (and talk about all the embarrassing moments of the night)

OK NOW FOR SOME RAPID FIRE CAUSE I’M RAMBLING TOO MUCH:

- james is determined to get into marlene and mary’s good graces, so he takes them out for a day at hogesmade (it the most chaotic and hilarious thing ever, mary and marlene tease him mercilessly and make the whole experience torturous for james)

- when lily meets effie and monty for the first time, she is terrified out of her mind that they won’t like her and therefore james won’t like her anymore (effie and monty ofc love her, and turns out lily is shell shocked about how good looking monty is, teasing james about it and saying how she might’ve picked the wrong potter)

- in the later half of 7th year when the war takes a turn, james takes it upon himself to do as much research on muggles as possible, wanting to be informed and not accidentally be prejudiced or arrogant in any way (lily has no idea he does this)

- james serenades lily on valentine’s day by singing ‘I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do’ by ABBA (sirius, remus, and peter are his backup dancers and mary and marlene are his backup singers)

- lily is the only one who knows about the marauders being animagus (she already knows about remus being a werewolf) and at first was really angry they did something so reckless but eventually came around and took it upon herself to cover their tracks as much as possible (because they’re way too obvious about their secret)

- james is lily’s date to petunia’s wedding (lily was dreading the entire night and james was determined to make it fun) and so they ended up extremely drunk, leaving early and crashing a muggle club where they danced right in the middle of together

THERE’S SO MANY MORE I COULD DO BUT THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME GAHHHHH

[love-toxin]

Ellie what the fUCK ARE YOU DOING

Camboy Leon? Huh?? You’re gonna drop that and not elaborate? Didn’t realize you were such a PRUDE /j

I would pay so much money to see this guy’s onlyfans, it’s not even funny anymore

(It’s worth noting that I’ve been having an absolute existential crisis every time I think about dick. Leon’s dick would probably cure all of my chronic illness; both mental and physical)

stands over you menacingly :) camboy leon you shall have teehee <3 dare me to expand this into a full fic ehe

(cws: camboy!leon, masturbation, voyeurism, piercings, pining, work crushes)

Leon who works with you at the DSO and, for a special agent, seems pretty neutral. he's stoic but has that dry sense of humour you love, puffing out teasing comments here and there whenever he has the chance. he's admired by everyone but never has any girls on his arm, never dates, never does more than purse his lips in secrecy when the guys boast about their sexual exploits. but even so, his tight-lipped response to anything like that gives him more charm–up until people finally start letting it go in favour of bigger, juicier gossip. but you never do, because even though you're just an intern, you can only dream of what it would be like to have a man like Leon. scratch that, you really just want Leon, because he's the whole package in your eyes even though you can't imagine him ever even sparing you a glance.

but one day, months after the Graham rescue mission, your night gets a little….lonely. Leon's been the talk of the office for weeks since he got back, with everyone swapping stories about his exploits and feeding you so much delicious fodder for your wildest fantasies about your work crush–and one day, hoping to try and pry him off of your mind, you click around the web for a bit until you stumble across an explorer page for a new, adult website.

obviously the curiosity gets to you when you spot the directory of public users, each and every one offering "services" for interested viewers–and you scroll through it for quite a while, searching through the names and checking out a few clips until you come across one that really catches your eye.

blondie.scott → new video available!

his profile photo is cute–it's just a cropped photo of his fingers throwing up a peace sign, although it's positioned over his lap where you can clearly see a dark, thick outline in his light-coloured sweatpants. clicking over to his video list, you've got an impressive library to peek through of free videos he offers, with only a few at the top being locked behind a subscriber paywall. the first one you click on looks pretty tame, but even so it has you sweating as the video buffers and you nearly end up shutting it off completely.

but because you're just too curious, you wait for it to start. and when it does, you get an eyeful of this smooth-chested, rough-voiced, absolute adonis of a man touching himself while the camera records it all from the neck down. he grips his cock with tight, long strokes that feel so needy–and it's pretty too, thick and ruddy at the tip and always glistening as he rubs his precum up and down the shaft, occasionally swirling his thumb round the slit to draw a buck from his hips and a groan out of his throat. being shirtless as he does it with his boxers tucked up underneath his hips, your mouth goes dry at the sight of two shiny barbells of silver nestled by each of his plush nipples. piercings. whoever this guy is, he's bold. and he's just….to die for, c'mon. and you can't even get the image of him cumming out of your mind, the raspy whines as he cusses up a storm and the frantic twitches of his cock while it spurts rope after rope all over his hand…your sleep is restless that night, because every time you close your eyes you can only see that handsome stranger fucking his hand like you wish you could get fucked. it's been so long you feel like a virgin at this point.

after that first video, you're hooked. before you know it, you've made a habit of watching this blondie guy's videos and you look forward to cracking open your browser at the end of a long day, especially when things get extra hectic at the DSO. often you're stuck at your desk for long stretches of time then, and after awhile it becomes so routine you slip up a bit and watch some of his clips when you're left alone in the office, drowning in a sea of paperwork when it's late enough at night that nobody else would even consider coming by. it's pretty easy to cover up, but even still some of his videos just rile you up so much you end up leaving a wet, sticky spot in your chair that you're forced to scrub off before your coworkers come in the next morning.

that doesn't mean the site is erased from your computer, though. it doesn't mean it's not accessible just because you've got a passcode to unlock your desktop. and if a certain somebody–who knows your birthday and has a bit of a thing for you–were to take a peek and see what you've been busy watching…well, he'll be quite pleased that you've got such good taste. and maybe he'll make a video just for you, just to hint that he knows your little secret just like you know his.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Harry gets slightly self-destructive in Uma’s absence

Harry stalks through the hovering shelves of Maddy’s Apothecary, idly pushing the odd item just slightly out of its proper place, and only raising the corners of his mouth in a parody of smile when darling Maddy hisses at him. 

Gil sighs as Maddy’s hisses slip into ancient curses – probably – and Harry doesn’t know what’s the fuss about, really.

He’s gonna pay.

Eventually.

Probably. Maybe.

But even so: Uma is not there to see. Uma is not there, and so Harry hardly finds it in himself to care.

He blinks away the memory of her and sweeps away a little package of poisonously coloured candy; it lands with a dull thud. (It doesn’t break and shatter, scatter all around. He isn’t suicidal enough for that, is he?)

„Oops,“ he says with approximately no regret in his voice as he grins at Maddy.

Fine, so maybe he was lying earlier, but can you blame him? There’s no one to hold him accountable for his lies. No Captain to answer to.

For that thought, another package joins the first one on the floor, and a phial disappears into his pocket. He doesn’t bother reading the label.

Gil says something that must be an apology to Maddy, who in turn points to the rules scrawled violently vivid over the grim wall.

We do not give first aid.

We do not give refunds.

Do not ask about correct doses, do not ask about opening hours.

Keep your relationship problems outside. 

Harry giggles: As if Maddy would actually throw him out, what with all the profit he’s been making her lately.  She’s a bitch, alright, but she does have a mind for business, that she does.

She screeches something that sounds suspiciously like „Go have your existential crisis somewhere else and stop sulking about your non-existing love-life in my shop,“ and Harry slips another vial into his pocket.

And he won’t be paying – that’s just what she gets for the love life comment.

Cold-hearted bitch.

[claypigeonpottery]

Thank you everyone for your interest in my existential crisis possum mug! there is no way for me to keep up with interest while hand carving all of them lol, so the design is now up on Redbubble

If you'd like to commission a hand-carved piece, you can find my commission request form here

and to everyone who wants to make their own: go for it! post pics! tag me!

I also created a little tutorial for this style of pottery decoration and this design in particular here if you want to watch a two-minute video

thanks @potato-on-your-head for the idea to print the design on mugs, and thanks @authortstrange for putting the design on Redbubble for me and messing around with spacing and colouring

[milomilesmib]

Since I have been feeling a particularly strong attachment to my comfort item lately here are what I think PJO character's comfort items would be (short answers in bold text for those who want a quick read):

Percy: a blue stuffie from his childhood. He doesn't often have it with him but he always feels safer when he is with it. And yes, he probably calls the stuffie "he" because I said so

Grover: a little mushroom pendant from Juniper. He never puts it on anything, just keeps it in his pocket and takes it out to fidget with when he's stressed. It has a really smooth surface and pretty colours so it's a good sensory thing for him.

Annabeth: her camp necklace. She always has it and when she doesn't she feels bare. Every time she's stressed she looks at a bead and thinks of a good memory from that year.

Thalia: a shirt she particularly favours because she wore it a lot when on the run with Luke and Annabeth. Any time she's in a bad mood she wears it and it makes her feel a bit better.

Nico: canonically, it's his skull ring, but I also feel like he'd have a childhood blanket that he's really attached to. It's a really soft fabric and so he always uses it when he's feeling overstimulated or understimulated cause it works for both

Rachel: a scrunchie with a fall leaf pattern on it from Percy. It was the first birthday present he gave her. It was all he could find and afford to get her that he thought she might like and he was scared she'd be underwhelmed but she really appreciated that he went through the effort and now she always has it on her.

Leo: a rock he found on a beach field trip with Piper back at the Wilderness school. It's pink and translucent, so when he holds it up to the sun it lights up a bit. It reminds him that he's cared about and loved when he has an existential crisis about being the 7th wheel.

Piper: a rock matching Leo's, found on the same trip. It's grey and smooth with streaks of white and green. It was a big source of comfort for her when mourning Jason, and she was able to remind herself that there was someone out there who shared her pain.

Jason: a silver bracelet Thalia gave him with a lightning bolt charm. It's the only jewelry he wears and he always has it with him, even when he dies.

Hazel: a small keychain from Frank. It's a little bear holding a plastic gemstone heart. She always brings it with her on quests and outings, making sure never to lose it.

Frank: a purple and gold friendship bracelet Hazel made him when he became praetor. He always treasured it because it made him feel like he'd made someone proud, despite the fact he'd already made so many people proud.

Reyna: her praetor's cloak. She didn't think she'd form an attachment to it, but she really liked the fabric and it made her feel important and safe. After she gave it up, Thalia noticed her seeming sad without it and got her a new one, but silver and gold embroidered with the symbol of Bellona.

Will: a pressed flower from Nico. Nico started picking flowers to press when he was unhappy as a way to learn how to keep his powers under control when his emotions are strong. He gave Will the first one and Will was so honoured he decided to carry it everywhere with him.

Apollo/Lester: a new ukulele Will got him after he lost his old one. Like Percy, he doesn't usually have it, but playing it always calms him down and reminds him of the people he loves.

Meg: a chip of a terracotta pot from her childhood home (I forget what it's called). She found it before she and her dad left and decided to keep it as a keepsake.

Lavinia: her star of David pendant, canonically, but I'd imagine she also has a music box with a little ballerina that reminds her of childhood and makes her feel safe.

Feel free to add on with any characters I missed :)

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Seven

Pairings; LADS OT4 X reader

Word Count; 2,876

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature context

Notes; you have a slight existential crisis, a kiss (but it doesn't get too intense unfortunately), another Xavier-centric chapter with a small cliffhanger, also a reminder that 💛 is Xavier! Also, I accidentally posted this so I guess y'all are getting this chapter early 🤷🏻‍♀️

Prev || Next

Masterlist

I would also like to mention, once more, that the reader isn't aware of anything relating to Sylus. Just his looks, the appearance of his evol, and all of that. Think of her as all of us during Sylus's trailer release! Even though she doesn't know anything, the story will go as it does in the original story. I'm definitely not creative enough to change any of that, but there will be major differences after we finish the final chapter (in-game, chapter eight)!

You have one more day of freedom before you enter the Nest as bait. How will you spend it?

You woke up a bit later than usual, wanting to spend as much time with Estelle in bed as possible before you had to leave her for an unspecified amount of time. You hope she remembers you. After you make yourself something to eat and give Estelle her food, you check up on your flowers. The bluish pink flowers sat in a vase you had made at a pottery class with Zayne. Your thumbprints in the shape of a heart and the vase was glazed in the colour arctic blue, which was a beautiful light blue. The vase was sitting next to the fox Xavier got you and the painting Rafayel made for you.

You decide to lounge around the apartment today, unwilling to go outside and do anything since you knew today would be your last day of freedom. You were honestly worried, after tomorrow you were in the dark on what comes next. Your gaze flitting across the notes you made of the past and near future, hoping to come up with a nice game plan for your next decisions. You could tell the other guys you know about your past lives, but if you don't know everything then what's the point? You knew Rafayel would throw a fit if you didn't remember everything. Zayne doesn't really remember or, at least, you're not sure. Most of Zayne's past life you're in the dark about since you never got his cards. For Rafayel, you know two specific instances of past lives but the bigger one where he was the god of the sea? You only know part of it. You never got those cards either. With Xavier, you know of both lives- one more so than the other. You know he's Lumiere, the man who saved the main character as a child and protected Linkon during the Chronorift Catastrophe..you also know he's quite jealous of himself. Any time Lumiere is mentioned, he gets jealous.

But Sylus? Nope, you know nothing. Besides his looks, that he's the leader of Onychinus, and what his evol looks like. That's all you know. And you think you remember a crow, but you could be mistaken because of meeting Mephi at the animal shelter.

You know you need the aether core at the auction, but you don't recall why. Maybe to help your heart? You don't dare ask because it would look weird if you were intent on finding something, but forgot why you needed it. And after that? You assume winning Sylus’ heart like you have with the others. So he can't be a real bad guy if he's a love interest. You've read theories that the Ever corporation, which is the biggest company in the world- branching from biotech to aerospace to evol energy and even international trade- might be evil or working with Onychinus, but that's the only lead you have. You'll just have to figure it out as you go along.

You put on the TV and laze around with Estelle for most of the day until you step outside to sit on your balcony to watch the sun set.

Your phone buzzes and you look down to check it, seeing a text from Xavier.

💛 :”whatre u doing outside this late?”

A smile tugs at your lips and you tell him that you're watching the sunset to which he doesn't respond. Instead his response comes in the form of a figure hopping down from the floor above you and grabbing onto the concrete wall of the balcony. “Watching it together would be better than watching alone.” He says, reaching out toward you and you grab his hand, tugging him fully onto your balcony.

“You scared the hell out of me, Xavier.” I say, looking up at the sky. “Give me a warning next time, please?” “I'll try my best.” He smiles, propping his arm up on your shoulder. “Aren't you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Ah…a little bit.” You look down at your feet with a small sigh and decide to sit down in a chair. “I'm nervous, but also anxious, but also I don't know what to expect. I have a plan and I know it'll work, but I'm unsure of where to go from there.”

“Well instead of worrying about it, how about you just go with the flow?” He crouches down next to you since you only had one chair, he rests his chin on your knee as he looks up at you. “Don't stress about what hasn't happened, just focus on right now and you can worry about the future when it comes.” You rest your hand in his hair and smile, tilting your head back to look up at the sky. “You know, you talk like an old man.” Your thumb brushes against his forehead, “but…I don't mind it.”

“Besides watching the sunset, I know of another way to calm down. Do you want to hear about it?” Xavier asks, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently brushes against your fully healed scar and your eyes flutter closed for a moment. “Have you tried it with other people and that's how you know it works?” You tease with a raise of your brow. “How do you know it'll work, huh?”

“Well… you won't know unless we try.” He stands back up, resting one hand on the armrest of your chair. His other still on your right cheek as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “May I?” He asks and you go to nod, but remember before that he told you to speak. “Yes,” you say before adding softly under your breath, “please.”

Xavier's eyes close as he closes the distance between you, his lips gently brushing against yours before fully connecting. He doesn't try to deepen the kiss, leaving it as a soft, yet intimate moment between you both. After a few moments, he breaks from the kiss and leaves a few scattered kisses across your face. His final stop was at your scar, his lips brushing along the scar from the top of your eyebrow all the way to your cheekbone. Your body immediately jerks in surprise at the touch since you realized your scar was rather sensitive. “Better?” He whispers, going back to resting his forehead against yours. His ears as red as yours probably were.

“Thank you.” You say softly, cupping his cheek and you rub your thumb back and forth across his cheekbone. A loud meow coming from behind you both finally breaks the moment and allows Xavier to pull away from you. “It seems like Estelle was jealous.” He chuckles, picking up the large cat with ease. “It looks like she's worried about her mommy.”

“She'll be fine because she'll have her daddy looking after her while I'm gone.” You say nonchalantly, not noticing the blush that spread across Xavier's cheeks or the way he buried his red face into Estelle's fur. “You really have a way with words.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“We missed the sunset!” You realize, quickly standing up as you whine. “Damn it.”

“We might've missed the sunset but didn't we make a better memory in place of it?” Xavier muses, glancing over at you with a soft smile. “I guess we did.” You reach over to pet Estelle behind the ears and Xavier takes the chance to say, “Be safe tomorrow. Promise me.”

“I can't make any promises, Xav. You know that.” You sigh, hugging both him and Estelle. “But just know I'll do my best to come back in one piece. I can promise that. I'm not going anywhere any time soon.” You murmur into his chest and rest your forehead against it.

“That's…” Xavier lets out a heavy sigh and gives you a forced smile before he nods, “That’s enough for now.”

D-Day

Finally, it's Hunting day. Your last day of knowing what comes next. You spent most of the night tossing and turning, mulling over what would happen and worrying over getting hurt, but you felt a bit better now. Especially as you changed into your clothes for the day. In the game, the main character showed up at the Nest in her uniform and while that would be the best kind of bait, it seemed impractical. If you're trying to be bait, wouldn't being obvious bait deter people? If you're too on the nose, people might think it's a trap. So instead, you opted to put on a strappy, red ruffled shirt that was tucked into a white skirt. You added a belt and you set your red low heels by the door. You spray some perfume and spend a few minutes getting ready to look your best.

A stylish outfit is a good weapon for a woman. That and your actual weapon in its holster under your skirt. You shrug on an expensive black jacket, one of the only things you own that wasn't in game, to hide your obvious weapon. You weren't sure when the right time would be to leave so you decided to have your last meal. Well, it wouldn't be your last meal but it definitely felt like it. After you ate, you'd leave for the Nest to meet up with Rafayel. Your last message to him being ‘Meet me at the Nest and show me how to fish.’ to which he replied that ‘the biggest fish come out at night.’ So you assume 10-11pm would be an appropriate time to leave?

You still have time today so what were you going to do?

You took a few more notes on what to expect after and made sure the tiny tranquilizer was in your pocket. The antidote vial sitting on your kitchen island ready to take before you leave. You double, no triple, no quadruple checked that you have everything and spent a few hours anxiously pacing back and forth and petting Estelle. You were never good at waiting, especially when you were anticipating something.

You decide to leave at 10pm, giving you an hour to get to the Nest, which makes sense since you'd be walking. You down the vial, tossing it in the garbage as you head toward the door. You slip your shoes on and lock the door behind you after feeding Estelle for the night.

Honestly with all this walking, you should probably just bite the bullet and learn how to drive since you already have a license in this world. But driving is scary and you have bigger issues to deal with right now so that'll have to come later.

As you walk through Azure Square, you pin your ‘family’ crest to your jacket, trying to make sure that not all of Jeremiah's hard work went to waste and even though you have your hunter's watch on, it is covered by your jacket sleeves so you assume it'll be fine. A pretty bait is what you're planning to be tonight, no need to go too overboard with it. You enter the Nest and it just looks like your average nightclub. People were standing and drinking, some slightly dancing to some music or talking amongst themselves, not many people were at the bar though, besides the bartender.

As you look around, your vision is blocked by someone stepping in front of you. “Hey there,” the man’s eyes glance at your crest as he continues, “Actually-”

“Isn't it a bit weird to do business with newcomers?” Rafayel steps into frame, practically shoving the other man out of the way as he fixes his sleeves, not even sparing the man another glance. “Come.” He loops a finger with yours as he pulls you up to the bar. “So…do you have your bait ready?” He asks, leaning his chin onto his hand.

“Mmh, I'll play their game and allow myself to be caught. Act like a clueless little worm on a tackle.” You say, nonchalantly. Not mentioning the N109 Zone since you didn't want to catch others' attention just yet. “You'll still need to cast your line though…that should be easy enough.” Rafayel drums his fingers against the bar counter before he hands the bartender a coin. He picks up an embossed card, sliding the blank side over to you. “Go ahead. Write down what you're looking for.”

You take a deep breath, nodding your head as you grab the black feathered pen that was sitting in a nearby cup. You write down ‘aether core’ and the ink disappears a few moments later. Rafayel scoops up the card to hand it to the bartender who nods and disappears into the back. “Who's he going to tell?” You ask, turning your body to face the well dressed artist. “Doesn't matter. If they're interested, you'll know.” He muses, moving his hand over to trace random shapes on the back of your hand.

“Rafayel?” He's still silent before he takes your hand, kissing the back of it. “Now, we wait for the fish to bite.” “How long?” You ask after he lets go of your hand. “Hmm..not long. The Nest lives up to its name, you know? An underground intelligence network that's well known to match supply and demand.” As Rafayel finishes his sentence, the bartender comes back with a shot glass. He places it in front of you before stepping away once more.

“And this?” You ask before assuming this means a fish has taken a bite so you reach out for it and Rafayel suddenly grabs your wrist. “Think about it first. The glass is black, that means you'll have to pay a high price and if it doesn't go smoothly, you'll be the payment instead.”

“Well, being the payment is better than sitting here and doing nothing.” You shrug, downing the shot in one go. “Since you've made up your mind, I won't stop you.” Rafayel chuckles, placing his hand on top of your head to ruffle your hair. “I hope you find the answers you seek.” He stands up from the barstool and doesn't look back as he walks away, just puts his hand up as he waves.

“Alright, I guess let's look around until the hunting starts.” You murmur to yourself, rising to your feet as you walk around the bar. You notice a board off to the side, a wanted board. You see a head shot of Lumiere who looks obviously like Xavier except with a white mask and an outfit you've never seen before. A small chuckle leaving your lips before you notice how much he's wanted for. “100 million? Geez, what did he do?” You step a bit closer to look at the other wanted posters and you only catch a glimpse of purple hair on another poster before someone runs into you.

“It's starting, it's starting.” The drunken man excitedly mumbles to himself as he walks further into the crowd.

The lights suddenly shut off and a modified OTTO patrol bot rose up from a podium in the center of the room. The circular robot flies high until a voice booms from it, “There's a price to pay when a wish is granted! Will you be the hunter or the hunted tonight?” The robotic screen was a deep shade of red, the camera on it shaped like an eye. “Hunting day will now…commence.”

As your gaze lands on the eye, you feel your blood run cold. This…this reminded you of the red eye from your nightmares but you couldn't put your finger on how. You decide to play it safe and try to find a place to hide but honestly, where can you hide? You're in an unfamiliar, crowded place so you're not even sure where the bathrooms are and why would you hide if the plan is to be caught in the first place?

Your thoughts are cut short as the voice says one last thing. “Now.” It's red gaze lands on you, effectively spotlighting you to everyone in the crowd. “Shit.” You mutter to yourself as a few people in the crowd walk toward you.

“There she is…we've been looking for you.” One person says and another one chimes in, “This is the prey.”

You're a tad bit overwhelmed as people close in on you and as you try to dip out of the crowd, you feel your breath leave you as you're hit in the back and your knees hit the ground hard. “Hey-” you say, trying to turn toward the person and elbow them in the gut but they grab you by your hair and hold a vial in front of your face. “C-003, a neurotoxin. If you're smart, you won't put up a fight.”

You sigh, head hanging down and your hair covers your face to hide your smile. At least everything still went according to plan. Now what comes next is a complete mystery. Your smile leaves your lips as you feel the butt of a gun hit your head and you fall to the ground.

I'm keeping the extra spaces in this chapter to show a comparison, so just let me know which you prefer and I'll keep doing it for the up-coming chapters! Also, this won't be a cliffhanger for long since I'll also be posting chapter eight today. I decided to spoil y'all 🩷

I do want to add that I change up mc's dialogue compared to what she says in-game sometimes because I don't like how it's worded or I don't like specific actions she does (like shaking Mephisto, you'll see). I also make comments on her stupid actions- like her trying to hide in the original chapter or wear her hunter's uniform as if she wants to scream to the Nest, "I'm a hunter!! Please, take me!" Instead of being more low-key and under the radar.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora

[the-desilittle-bird]

A part 2 for Never Yours in the works? 🙏🏼😂

AN- And Yes! I am alive. Sorry for going on a hold but I had some existential crisis over my writing skills. And even now, I feel that this piece is not good enough.

Also, I have added a few more characters. So, have a look and if anyone wants to request something then go ahead. Also all the requests I already have in my inbox will be posted soon.

So now, here it goes...

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

The Dragon of North

Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Reader;

Cregan Stark x Wife!Reader

Part 1

Summary- And all begins to fallout as the Dance begins to start...

Tag List- @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @thekayarlene, @narcy, @helloitsshitzulover, @muushwrites, @daringboba, @bi2simps, @issybee0611, @yariany02, @agathe, @5moremin, @candypurplebutterfly, @saraelizabeth26, @moon-light1415, @targaryenmoony, @stargaryenx, @instabul, @shine101, @hyacinthus007, @mcam623, @eudximoniakr, @carissa_griffin7777, @marvelescvpe, @severewobblerlightdragon, @deltamoon666, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @ultrav0lence, @savagemickey03, @sunmoon-01, @literishdegree99, @watercolorskyy, @Lady-Juliettes, @cherryaemond, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @nats-whore

Warnings- Westeros politics and Daemon being himself

GIF Credits to @thequeenwechoose

Staying in the King's Landing never felt more discomforting than now for (Y/N). It had been near to two full weeks that she, along with her family, resided in the Maegor's Keep and to avoid both her sister and her former lover was becoming next to impossible.

Cregan had noticed, and queried time and again, every passing night as to what ails her; what makes her disappear in thin air when either of her sister or uncle appears in the sight.

(Y/N) wanted to tell him all as it is. The truth. But she knew what would happen if the truth came out. Her family will break as the poison of doubt will creep gradually; sinking its teeth deep into Cregan's mind.

The princess turned when she heard the sound of her name, Alicent held a soft smile as she sipped on her tea, the sun casting a bright glow on her face, accentuating her features a bit; but Alicent was a pretty lady from the beginning, sometimes making the princess envious of her, but their beauties were also different.

"Yes, my queen?" She replied in a light voice, her eyes drifting of to where Aemma conversed with Aemond while Daemon and Viserys played with the eldest son of Alicent; the firstborn son her father and the king.

"I was wishing to speak to you about a proposal," the Queen says calmly, twisting to face the Lady of the North, who does the same once she realizes that whatever is about to come is important, if not urgent.

"Aemond and Aemma makes a good pair."

(Y/N) turned to glance at her child; her eldest daughter. Her dark hair where braided back in a loose Northern braid, keeping the tresses away from her grey eyes which resembled her father's. Aemma was the representation of her paternal house; the Northern beauty residing in each single feature of her.

"I understand what you speak of, my queen. But this decision is not only mine to make," the mother of six said gently, her violet eyes genuine just as her smile as she gave the Queen's hand a comforting squeeze.

"Of course, my princess. Lord Cregan has every right to own about the matters of his daughter's betrothal," Alicent said with a soft, polite smile, returning her gaze back to the place where their children played in harmony.

Bran and Allaric were in the nursery which belonged to (Y/N) when she was a baby. The entire decor had been based on the colours of her house; red and black with dragon motifs here and there.

"My queen, if you don't mind, can I leave? I should go and find my lord husband," (Y/N) said, leaving the comforts of the cushioned chair to see where her husband is. "Of course, I have no issues, my lady."

With a polite bow of her head, the Dragon of the North strided confidently in the direction of the Small Council's chamber. She had a vague idea that Cregan would be discussing the upcoming winter and trades with her father and the Hand.

Taking a turn, a hand clasped over her mouth, dragging her to a dark corner while she withered violently, trying to escape from the death grip on her waist.

"Easy, zaldrīzes." (dragon)

The hand from her mouth was removed and (Y/N) turned to meet the identical violet eyes of her uncle. His hand still held her waist while the empty one cupped the side of her neck, caressing like lulling her to a sweet sleep.

"Skoriot naejot, ñuha zaldrītsos?" (Where to, my little dragon) He whispered, his breath caressing the skin stretching over her cheeks, warming it delightfully. His hand from her waist traveled up to her cheek, soft yet firm in its place, just as she remembered.

"Cregan might be in the Small Council's chamber," she whispered back, her eyes taking him in slowly, biting her lips as the moments spent in intimacy fogged her mind; outweighing her better judgment of just pulling away.

"Kostagon ao daor emagon iā moment syt aōha kepus?" (Can you not have a moment for your uncle?) He asked, his blonde hair caressing her ears delicately. He had always took pride in his long hair, always caring for it just as he did for Caraxes.

Before (Y/N) could speak of anything, the distant voice of her husband made her step away; her breath heavy and deep as she tried to compose herself.

Daemon ran his hand through his long hair, eyes darkening with frustration as a scowl appeared on his face; definitely not at all happy with the spell of the moment being broken.

"My love," the dragon princess found herself greeting her husband with a small smile, her hand slipping into his larger one as he leaned down for a kiss on her cheek, a silent whisper caressing the skin: "my dragon".

"Young love."

The scoff from Daemon was hardly concealed by the fake cough of his, but his act was only rewarded by his weak brother before the king turned to his daughter and good son; the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.

"I hope your discussions were pleasant," the lady said with a small smile; doing her best to make a short conversation before departing for her chambers in the considerably quiet wing of the Maegor's Keep.

"Indeed, my lady. This winter would be easier with the aids our king promises to provide," Cregan admitted, squeezing their intertwined hands in a soft way of reassurance. His grey gaze caressed her face softly; like the most expensive silk on a skin.

"I am glad we could help, my lord," Viserys said with a smile before a fit of coughs embraced him. Leaning heavily on the wall, the king tried to suppress the heavy coughing but to no avail would it go.

"Call the maester," Daemon ordered, rushing to his brother's side as he softly helped his brother upward while (Y/N) rubbed her father's back in an attempt to comfort him, but it seemed that nothing worked.

"(Y/N), you go, I shall see to it that he is well."

"But kepus-"

"-Go."

"Queen Alicent proposed something to me today."

The Wolf Lord looks up from the book he acquired from the Royal Library. The extensive collection of rare and precious books enabled him to find some which one could never find in the North; and being the husband of the Dragon Princess, nobody would deny him the books.

"And what did she propose?"

His features softened as he watched her dear wife with a keen eye. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded down her back in perfect soft curls; her violet eyes soft and unwavering as she glanced at him through mirror while combing the last of her tresses.

"She wishes for Aemma to be betrothed to Aemond. A way to unite our houses," (Y/N) said, standing up from the vanity as she softly made her way to their shared bed.

"Unite the North to the Crown or unite you with her family?" Cregan queried, placing the book down on his side as his lady wife crawled to him. "I am not sure," she hummed, situating her face on his chest while his hands came in contact with her soft locks of snow.

"Then let us not dwell on it yet."

[ramayantika]

Iconic Bollywood women but make it aesthetic

Madhubala

Writes letters, silver jhumke, light coloured flowy kurtis, reads poetry, loves jalebis, has the most beautiful smile, gentle soul, doesn't know how many people fall for her, loves children, moon gazing, dreams of living in an haveli, night time existential crisis, wants to twirl in a white anarkali while someone showers marigold petals, black and white Bollywood movies, falls in loves deeply, stores every small memoir of her friends and loved ones.

Rekha

Desi dark feminine energy, has the most updated wardrobe, blessed with wit and sarcasm, center of attention in a room full of people, best dressed, piercing eyes that gaze deep into your soul, laughs loud and hard, silk sarees, gajra in her hair and wrists, walks like a queen, rarely posts on social media, highly intimidating, eats the spiciest pani puri/gupchup/golgappa, Miss Popular, will turn you breathless with a side glance.

Sridevi

Literal embodiment of sunshine but hides her inner feelings, secretly in love with a boy in her neighbourhood, wears colouful bindis and juttis, has learnt singing and dancing, loves sitting beside ponds and rivers, possesses mischevious eyes, you can never be angry on her, can transform into an outspoken diva within seconds, acts like a heroine in her room or when home alone.

Madhuri

Has a proper skin care routine, loves chocolates, loves eating achaar, light lipsticks, the most graceful in the room, fake scenarios expert, blushes easily, hates waking up early, plant mother, loves playing with puppies, makes birthday cards for everyone, breezy outfits, has the best thumkas to rock a wedding sangeet, warm hugs and forehead kisses.

Aishwarya

Owns too many sarees and desi outfits, gold jewellery, perfectionist, artist but chose science, loves reading about history, philosophy and space, a hidden genius, your school/college crush, can and will beat you in a debate, gajra supremacy, has a pretty voice, should be a model, loves winter, holds hands under the bench, winks and steals your heart.

I know there and many more but abhi ke liye itna hi? Plij! Also do tell who else do you want to see so I can post them in the other parts.

[kit-walk3r]

Are the Evans team Barbie or team Oppenheimer?

It seems appropriate 😂

Barbie

Kit- Originally went to see Barbie because Julia wanted to but ended up loving it. Definitely cried. Loved seeing Barbie’s onscreen that looked like Julia, he could tell it made her happy. 100% had a crush on Margot Robbie after this.

Rory- Is actually one of the background Ken’s and won’t stop telling people. Drags all his friends and family to see it so he can point out himself in the background of a dance number for 10 seconds. Laughs out loud at every joke. Actively uses the phrase ‘Kenergy’.

Gallant- Barbie’s were his first subjects for styling hair so is super excited for the movie. Thinks he could have styled Margot Robbie’s hair better than the actual movie stylist. Everyone thinks he’s crushing on Ryan Gosling as Ken but he’s actually crushing on Michael Cera as Allan.

Peter- Knows all the words to I’m Just Ken. Has the Ken rollerblades and has attempted to run with them on but failed miserably. Is not ashamed to admit that he finds all of the Barbie’s attractive.

Oppenheimer

James- Actually remembers when the atomic bomb happened so is intrigued to see how they’ve translated it to film. Is disappointed that they don’t show the dead. Doesn’t understand why Oppenheimer feels guilty. Barbie is too bright, colourful and happy for him.

Kai- Barbie: a film about empowering women? Fuck that, Kai wants the movie with explosions. Pre-cult Kai would have cried seeing Florence Pugh naked. Considered changing his name from ‘Divine Ruler’ to ‘Death, Destroyer of Worlds’.

Barbenheimer

Tate- Really sees himself in Allen. Can relate to Oppenheimer’s guilt. Leaves both movies crying. Wants Ken’s hoodie that says “I’m Kenough”. Has an existential crisis leaving Barbie questioning who he is. Fears nuclear war after Oppenheimer.

Kyle- Did the Barbenheimer double bill. Secretly preferred Barbie to Oppenheimer but loved them both. Wore pink to Barbie. Gets excited every time he recognises an actor in Oppenheimer. Won’t shut up about both movies after he’s seen them and will fight people on the internet who insult them.

Jimmy- Team Barbie because he thinks every person in that movie is attractive. Team Oppenheimer because he actually loves a good biopic. Afterwards says he would definitely go to a Tupperware Party hosted by the Barbie’s.

Austin- Won’t stop talking about the Barbie soundtrack and costume design. Won’t stop talking about the theatrics of Oppenheimer. Won’t stop talking about Cillian Murphy’s eyes.

Colin- Empowering women!! Emily Blunt!! Colin definitely crushes on Emily Blunt and also loves a movie that empowers women so Barbie and Oppenheimer are his two perfect movies. Clapped at the end of both films.

•—————————————————————————•

Since I’ve seen both of the movies I thought this would be fun 🤭

Taglist: @jellyluvr @howtobesasha @dewberryobssesed @rwottvn @kaismanwich @violetharmonstwin @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @mariefics @spill-the-t @hyperharlz

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