mentalbreze885

[adobe-outdesign]

the best part about Lesley is that she could've so easily been wearing a Padlock-style fancy dress or something but instead she shows up wearing a three-piece suit complete with coat tails and a bowtie. your fave could NEVER

[scottfuckingreed]

It’s a Pogue thing - JJ Maybank

NOT REQUESTED

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Warnings!: Swearing, drugs and alcohol, and SMUT!

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“Morning guys!” I beam as the boat comes to a steady stop at the edge of my front garden. It’s almost like a routine. More often than not we sail into an open set of water. Sometimes we fish, mostly we just simply do nothing. Pope extends his hand out to help me onto the boat. It strikes me sometimes that, although we are all the best of friends, it probably seems a strange mix of people to some people. We’re the scraps of the island. The ones who no one really acknowledges. Kiara and I would technically be Kooks. Both of our families have money but it doesn’t really mean shit. Everyone from ‘our end’ are airheads. They care about nothing and no one but themselves. Pope’s parents have worked their asses off, so they’re in a stable place. They don’t understand why Pope hangs with us, and sometimes I wonder the same thing. He has a real chance of getting out of this place. John B and JJ are childhood besties. Their upbringing is similar, except John B’s technically an orphan, and JJ’s father’s a piece of shit. But that’s just pogue life.

“Is your mum still out tonight?” JJ asks, making my head slowly turn towards him. Do I even need to ask? “I mean, yeah-” “Great! We’re throwing a party,” I raise my eyebrows. “Hahahahaha, definitely not.” The last time I had a party with these idiots, so much shit broke in my house. I’m not getting grounded again. “Come on Y/N! It’s summer. We could all use a party!” I roll my eyes at his words. I open my mouth to shut him down but John B lets out a cough. “Actually, Y/N, I agree.” Kiara looks just as confused as I do. His father’s been missing for almost a year. Recently he’s been looking more in depth, which I support to a certain extent, but it’s at on overload right now. I’m surprised a party would even be on his radar. “I need to talk to Sarah Cameron.”

Sarah Cameron. She’s like Kook royalty. I don’t think she’s too bad. A bit sheltered maybe, but her and Kiara have a history. So you can imagine the change in look on her face as he mentions her name. “She mentioned something that might help me figure out what’s happened with my father. Do you think she’d come?” Okay that makes sense. Ki’s face doesn’t change, and the rest of us just glance between each other. “I mean, probably... but I don’t really wanna hang-” “I just need to talk to her, then you can call the party off,” a smile - too shiny and wide - spreads across his face. John B’s always had this affect on people. He gets exactly what he wants.

As soon as I get home I scan my house. Anything fragile, valuable, or anything of the sort needs to be hidden. Vases, mini statues, ashtrays from holidays abroad. Things that make this house a home will be locked in an upstairs bedroom. I’d like to live this life a little longer.

So here I am; picking an outfit for a party I don’t wanna go to. A party that I’m apparently hosting! Since I’m not dressing for anybody, I go for a simple short black dress. It really resembles my mood. Almost as soon as I put it on, I hear my front door shut. I jog down the stairs, adjusting my boobs into their rightful positions to come face to face with my intruder.

“You should really announce yourself or something. I thought I was gonna get murdered,” in front of me stands JJ. His outfit consists of a pair of lovely beige shorts and a colourful shirt; left open to show off that torso of course. “I could kill you,” he flirts. His eyes immediately go to my cleavage. This is nothing new. I think he’d fuck a table if it gave him the right vibe. “Hey!” I snap my fingers at him. “My eyes are up here you know.” Before I go to kick him, he makes a very boyish comment of how I look sexy and whatnot. He wanders away into the kitchen, probably to raid my fridge before the party. Let’s get this over with.

More and more people start to gather in my house. In the Outer Banks, everyone kind of knows everybody. I don’t actually know all these people, but I’ve seen them around. I close my eyes for a second, before pouring a drink for myself into a classic red cup. “Are you okay?” Ki nudges me with a smile. Ki and I are very similar people. She probably doesn’t wanna be here either. She could leave, but I know she won’t. “I just realised I’m the host, and I don’t wanna be here,” I laugh it off and hold my drink up to her. “Cheers!” I add.

After about 2 and a half drinks, I’m really starting to feel this party. The music is average. It’s the ‘for everybody’ kind which means it’s majoritively overplayed and everybody more or less knows it word for word. Despite that, and despite the fact that I didn’t really want this party to happen, I drag Ki into the dance area and boogie with her. Well- I dance, she stares at me with a concerned look on her face. “The trick is you have to pretend you’re having a good time,” I giggle into her ear in a slightly tipsy tone. Although she shakes her head, I can see her trying to contain herself from moving to the music. I take her hand and spin myself into her. Her eyes give me the ‘can I go now’ look. Grunting, I give in. “Fine! Please if you see anyone doing or touching shit they’re not meant to, beat them!” I smile innocently after my words, and she scurries faster than she should. Damn. Am I that bad of a dancer?

Music vibrates the walls. It’s been almost 2 hours since the party started and it’s actually going quite smoothly. John B has asked every 5 seconds if Sarah’s here yet. I shush him with my finger. “I promise I will let you know when I see her. Honestly, you sound a bit obsessed with her...” I chuckle. “Hey!” I poke JJ on the arm. At this point, just call me mother. “Please don’t smoke that in here,” I gesture towards the spliff in his hands. “It’s a party Y/N! Relax!” With that, I snatch it out of his hands. His face grows serious. Confusion fades as I realise it’s not aimed at me. Both JJ’s and John B’s eyes stare at the group entering my house.

First in, Sarah. Like I said, I don’t really have a problem with Sarah. She comes across a bit self centred sometimes. That’s minor.

With her, her boyfriend Topper. Topper’s a dick but I think he’s harmless. He’s honestly a pussy.

And his best friend. Her brother. My ex boyfriend. Rafe.

There’s a saying; dead things should stay buried, or something like that. That relationship should be 6 feet under, but times that by 10. I guess it was a ‘serious’ relationship. It lasted about a year. It was almost perfect at the beginning, that I can’t lie. As both of our families are respected, and very close anyway, it just seemed right. There was no disgust. He was accepted. I was accepted. We did everything a couple should; went on dates, were around each other 24/7, even did weekends away together. And we argued. The thing about Rafe is he’s an over thinker. He’s paranoid. When traits like that mix they can... make a monster. The last time he set his hands on me was about 4 months ago. I’ve avoided him like hell ever since.

“This is why I shouldn’t have a party,” I sigh. My eyes can’t seem to leave that area. It’s strange to see him. I don’t want him here. “Why’s he even here? He does have some balls,” John’s tone sounds somewhat impressed. I’m not. I’m not sure if my body is ready to cry, or laugh, or scream. Finally, I blink my eyes away, and set eyes on my two friends. Before I speak, JJ opens his mouth. “We can kick him out,” he assures me. The slight nudge on my shoulders by each boy is comforting. “It’s fine,” I sigh, taking JJ’s drink out of his hands. As much as I’d love to see Rafe get his ass kicked and thrown out, and I can promise you I would, this is my battle. I can’t avoid him forever. “Fuck,” I whisper, knowing what I’m about to do. I bring JJ’s cup up to my lips and tip the entire contents into my mouth. “Shit Y/N, I wouldn’t-” before he can warn me fully, I swallow. My eyes instantly water. “What the fuck!” I gasp at the disgusting taste. I’m sure a toilet would taste better than that. And yet, that concoction would be easier to digest than the conversation I’m about to have with Rafe.

The walk over felt somewhat unreal. As if, if this was a movie, my passionate walk would be in slow motion. Between the music and my racing heart, my dramatic ‘I am the main character’ strut was complete. If only I wasn’t totally shitting myself. A brave face Y/N. Just fake it.

And then I’m in front of them. Perhaps my slow motion moment wasn’t quite slow enough. It could’ve been everlasting for all I care. “Hey Sarah,” I smile. Her sympathetic smile is warming, but ultimately useless in this situation. I doubt Rafe told her the whole story, but I can imagine she knows too well what he can be like. Maybe he even made something up. I wouldn’t be surprised. She drifts away rather quickly. I don’t know what the deal is with her and John B, but I imagine Topper intends to watch her like a hawk. He’s that type of guy. Topper doesn’t even speak, just stands slightly behind as if he’s one of Rafe’s minions. To be honest that kind of describes him perfectly. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe just has him around to lick his ass. When I have to, I finally look at Rafe’s face. “What are you doing here?” I ask. My eyes scan everywhere on his face but his eyes. The thought of doing that makes me uncomfortable. “It’s a party Y/N,” the smirk on his face screams fuckboy. “Plus, I wanted to see you,” he raises his hand to my face, going to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. My hand forcefully bats his away, making a loud slap sound; even over the music. “I’ve missed you,” he leans closer so his shouting can quieten a little. My limbs instantly tense at his words. Somehow it makes me feel kind of sick thinking about it... thinking about us. The fact that it was a thing is just... “You need to leave Rafe,” my attempt to sound blunt and assertive is a massive fail. Instead my voice echoed in a wobble, making me sound weak and pathetic. “You don’t mean that, come on-” his hand wraps around my wrist, taking my back to a time I’ve tried desperately hard to forget. I pull my arm away once, but his grip holds too strong. As I go to pull away again, a pair of large hands push against Rafe’s chest. “What the fuck man?!” Topper’s voice erupts from Rafe’s shadow. A henchman fighting his duties. I turn to see JJ, red faced, standing with a threatening stance. “We don’t want no trouble JJ, my girl here is just being a tease,” Rafe’s tone is patronising. “Leave it, JJ,” my right hand gently squeezes his left shoulder. “Let’s get a drink, Topper,” I wanted him to leave, but I watch him walk towards my kitchen. I hate that he’s in my house, but at least he’s away from me. For now.

I fade away. Without full control, my body makes it’s way upstairs. Just to breathe for a second. Almost as soon as I drop my body onto my bed, the door reopens. Startling me, I come face to face with JJ. “Hey,” his voice rings soft. When he closes the door behind him, the music becomes muffled. Peaceful. I press my lips together into a forced smile. “Should I tell everyone to fuck off home?” He gestured towards the door. I shake my head, cracking a smile. “It’s fine. I just needed a minute away from... that,” his arm extends, a red cup at the very end. I screw my face up at the smell. “How do you drink this?” Just from sniffing it, I feel myself getting more and more tipsy. “If you need it, it goes down quite easily-” he pauses as I take it. “Plus I’m really cool and manly so.” “Ah, of course.” A big part of my body (probably my stomach and liver) starts screaming no. I have no idea what alcohol is in this cup. I know it’s a lot. After this cup, I will probably be more or less gone. A micro part of me says fuck it. That’s the part I listen to. The liquid burns down my throat, and yet it strangely goes down quite smoothly compared to the first.

“I am sorry about Rafe,” JJ has taken a seat next to me on my bed. Usually I’d banish people away from my room, but I feel like JJ saved me tonight. He’s a bit of a prick at times, and an absolute idiot, but I trust him. Maybe I trust him too much. “It was gonna happen at some point,” I shrug. “He’s such a pussy,” when I start laughing at JJ’s words, I realise that the alcohol may have sunk in. A hiccup escapes my mouth. “Fuck.” I whisper to myself as my smile fades. I’m an idiot to have ever gotten with him. Young and dumb maybe. “Hey...” JJ rests his hand on my knee and squeezes gently. My body, in my tipsy state, reacts to this motion is a strange way. Why did that just give me butterflies? He’s only comforting me. My eyes drift up to look at him properly. Is he... leaning in?

I stand up before he gets close. I rub my eyes frantically. Maybe I’m about to wake up from a nap or something. “I’m sorry... I just...” I breathe. The crazy thing is, I felt it too. My body is reacting in crazy ways right now. I think I’m turned on? By JJ? That’s something I never thought I’d say. I mean... he’s hot. I’m not blind. I guess I’ve never looked at him like that. But I am now. I’m looking at the blonde hair, and the jawline, and the smile. Okay, that’s enough. I’m just in shock of seeing Rafe again. That’s it: “Pogue on Pogue isnt allowed,” I state, mainly to myself. I need massively convincing right now. I need JJ to tell me that I got the wrong idea. Tell me it’s disgusting and I’m too much like a sister. We’re meant to be family. Come on Y/N! That’s gross! Before he says anything, he shrugs. That damn fucking shrug. In my state of mind, it’s attractive. “I don’t really care,” that’s it. I’m convinced. I needed him to say something else, but that’s ultimately the answer I hoped for. “Me neither.”

I practically jump onto him, straddling him and crashing my lips onto his. The softness, yet passion, against my lips is something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt. This should feel wrong. Only, as JJ’s hands smooth up and down my body before sitting on my waist, it couldn’t feel more right. Without a second thought, I glide my tongue into his mouth. I can sense it takes him by surprise. The most attractive moan escapes him, which I can imagine was not intentional. The kiss proceeds to get more and more intimate. Somehow we just move in sync. He slowly lays back, our lips not separating once before he’s fully beneath me. Maybe JJ was previously holding back, but a rush of ‘horny teenage boy’ suddenly rushes over him. Both hands go to my ass. As much as I don’t want to fall apart under his touch so fast, the immense pleasure radiates through my body. I break away from his kiss slightly and moan massively into his mouth.

We stop kissing for a second. Our heavy breaths bounce against each other. It’s a strange moment to be in. Was this always bound to happen at some point? “Should we stop?” Confusion hits as he speaks those words, and yet he proceeds to trail kisses down my neck. I push his head down onto the pillow with my right hand cupping his chin, bringing my face close enough to his that our noses are pretty much touching. “Do you want to?” I simple ask. I’d be almost offended by his words, but only if his hands weren’t grinding me down onto his crotch. Perhaps it’s a guilty conscience. We are both massively likely to regret this in the morning. We are also likely to get caught and get grief from our small circle of friends. They are good enough reasons to stop. They are good enough reasons for this to have never started to happen in the first place. They just don’t amount to one thing, and that’s that I want this right now. His head begins to move side to side. I can’t help but begin to smile massively. “Then shut up and fuck me.”

It was as if that was a jump start. JJ’s manly hands flip us over immediately. I let out a giggle as he begins to undo his shorts. The speed of the removal of both his shorts and boxers was impressive. They get thrown wherever they go. My eyes quickly glance at his penis, before looking back up to his eyes. I suck in my bottom lip before pulling him back down to kiss me again. This shouldn’t be this easy. His tongue slides back into my mouth, battling with mine for dominance, all too easily. I’m not even a little bit nervous... until I feel his fingertips glide up under my dress. He hooks his finger under the waist band of my thong and does nothing for too long. It might’ve only been seconds, but those seconds were some of the longest seconds of my life. He pulls them off ever so slowly. I was becoming a literal puddling mess beneath him.

He knows what he’s doing. He knows he has me wrapped around his finger right now. His tongue plays against mine skillfully; slow and passionate. He’s doing everything right. Once my underwear finally reaches my feet, I just can’t hold it back anymore. “Are you done teasing me now?” I practically beg. I’m soaked, a mess, and almost fully sober. If anything, I wanted this more now than I did when we started. My heart continues racing, but I stay composed and reach over into my bedside table. I rip it open. I simply hold his shaft with two fingers. JJ takes a deep breath in. Fuck. He watches my hand roll the condom down with his mouth slightly open. “Time to break some Pogue rules,” he whispers before lining himself up. I should not be this ready for this.

Even with just the tip, I could’ve come apart then and there. I haven’t had sex in months. Whether you believe me or not, I had not imagined it would to be JJ Maybank who I was going to break my ‘no boys’ commitment to myself with. When he begins inserting himself inside me, I realise this is actually happening. The slow, easy slide in had me in pieces. I was already moaning and he wasn’t even moving properly yet. He stops. “This-” I pause to steady my breath. My entire being is, dare I say it, excited. “This has to stay between us,” I compose myself. Although this is a one time thing, it has potential to ruin a hell of a lot. So, even as I wrap my legs around his body, we have to make this promise. “Scouts honour.” He brings his pinky up to me. Kissing the backs of our hands, it was sealed.

He starts pulling out slowly, making my jaw gradually open wider and wider. He pauses before pushing back in. His eyes lock with mine, and he smiles cheekily. I’m not certain what that smile means, but I can sure take a guess. There is a part of me that wants to stop. Nothing’s really happened yet. But no part of me actually wants to. When he pushes himself back inside me, my fingers spread into his hair. His lips land back on mine, my tongue swirls around his like it’s an everyday activity. I pull gently on his hair as he begins steadying a pace. “Shit,” I moan against his lips.

Fingertips glide across my thigh, tracing patterns and sending my stomach into spirals. I couldn’t hook my legs around him tighter if I tried. The wave of tremendous pleasure of each thrust was like a drug. Every time his body collided with mine I wanted more. I needed more. To feel this, in this moment, with JJ was wrong. So why doesn’t it feel that way? His lips leave mine slowly, tracing kisses across my cheek until his lips land near my ear. “You feel so fucking good,” the vibrations of a deep husky moan forces a moan out of me. His teeth latch around my ear lobe, sucking down before moving down to my neck.

The friskiness of JJ’s lips and tongue is like motivation. With strength I didn’t know I had, and confidence in myself I thought I’d lost, I push against JJ and flip us over. Lust fills his eyes. I just sit there, only for a second, actually liking the way JJ is looking at me. Yes, it’s because I’m straddling him half naked. It’s still nice. His hands squeeze the tops of both of my thighs as well as moving up to my hips... then my ass. It was as if he pressed fast forwards.

I move my body up to start thrusting onto him again, with his helping hands guiding back down. “Fuck JJ,” I moan, leaning forwards to bring my face close to his. My moans become more and more prominent between our kisses. The hands, that remain on my ass cheeks, remain strong and steady. The way he still controlled my body, even though I was on top, was such a turn on. I reach for the headboard. If there wasn’t a party going on downstairs I think everyone would be hearing us loud and clear. The bed starts making a rather persistent squeaking noise. I let out a laugh-moan when the headboards makes a ‘one time’ bang against the wall. I could tell, with the way I was grinding myself down onto him, he was close. What a relief!

“I’m so close,” I moan against his lips in a muffled whisper. Although my body grew tired, JJ continues helping my body thrust up and down. The knot in my stomach started to tighten. My heart rate increases quite a bit. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so good around me!” His fingers grow stronger against my hips as he came closer and closer to finishing. Even with his grip being quite forceful, all I could feel was an astonishing amount of pleasure flushing through my body. The release felt like a long time coming. Once I started to let go around him, it only took seconds for JJ to reach his climax too. With his help, we ride out our highs. I grow slower and slower, until both of our climaxes finished. My heart is racing. I lift my body with the last piece of energy I had. My sensitive core flinches as he pulls out from me once more. Collapsing onto him, I fall into the crevice on his arm all too well. “Shit,” I mumble. I don’t think it’ll actually sink in until tomorrow. I’m too scared to punch myself in case I don’t wake up. “That was... uh...” he doesn’t even need to finish his sentence. “I know.”

The next morning

I wake up in a strange yet awfully familiar place. The walls, the blanket, and the view outside my window are all home. The curtains weren’t drawn last night. When I roll over, there’s something that shouldn’t be familiar. I set eyes on a naked JJ sleeping soundly next to me. My eyes widen. I can’t help but sit up drastically fast. I first find my thong. As quietly as I can, I open a drawer beside my bed and rummage for a t shirt. I find one and put it on, only to turn and see JJ’s eyes staring my way.

“Morning sunshine,” he smirks. His bed hair sticks up in every direction. I notice his boxers across the room so I stand and throw them his way. I watch as his face changes, but the proud smirk on his face remains. “We fucked last night,” he chuckles, standing to put his boxers on. I press my top and bottom lips together. “Don’t look too impressed with yourself,” using the hairband around my wrist, I quickly whip my hair up into a ponytail. My legs make their way to stand next to the boy. “It was better than I’d imagined it,” he adds. I backhand him on the arm. “Hey!” His eyes are warming. This is when I realise that I don’t regret it. At least, not half as much as I thought I would. It’s not even awkward. Part of me automatically assumed it would be. “Right,” I clap my hands together. “Are you ready to clean a house?” I ask. His rolling eyes scream loudly. Before he can even protest, I butt in. “This is your party, your mess. You’re lucky I’m gonna help you!”

With each step down the stairs, more of my messy house is revealed to me. “If anything’s broken, you’re replacing it,” I warn him. Red cups, empty beer bottles, even clothing was scattered across the floor. I start imagining the way people probably started behaving when JJ and I went upstairs. What if people fucked on... well... anywhere?! “I think we should just go back upstairs,” JJ suggests. This is going to take so long to clean. I feel JJ’s hand slap against my ass. “It’s never happening again,” I say simply. Yes, it was pretty amazing. No, I do not regret it. No, it should never happen again because our friends will kill us. “Whatever you say babe.”

Click here if you’re interested in reading PART TWO

[damedamedame]

akane aoi + reader | say what ?

| description ! | your current relationship with akane gets a little out of hand (which may or may not be good?) (yes, there’s a question mark).

prev | next

You flip to a page, one to a theory about a mysterious creature who could control the time around the halls of Kamome Gakuen by their own hands and by their own choice. There’s even a sketch of what it could be... and it looked nothing like the boy standing in front of you now. Your finger points to a space, wordlessly wanting him to sign it if your pleading face was anything to go by.

Akane stares at you blankly, then to the picture book in your hands. The expression on his face screams confusion because of your actions but you were insistent.

Being an enthusiast for all sorts of supernaturals and apparitions that had crossed your path (which may or may not have led to various dangerous incidents), you stood your ground as firmly as you possibly could.

Even if you wanted to melt at the sight of this new Akane Aoi.

Fuck it, you probably already melted when he saved you mere minutes ago.

Sucking in a deep breath, you continued to ask another question, briefly ignoring the fact that Akane didn’t bother to sign. Maybe he had no pen?? What kind of apparition has a pen in his pocket?? Wait would they--

“C-Can you help me investigate more s-supernaturals?”

‘OH NO.’ You looked at the ground as if it was the one who was making your cheeks redden to the max. ‘I STUTTERED TOO MUCH DHBFSH--’

“Interesting offer but….” Your head shot up to meet his smile, it didn’t meet his eyes but it made you look like a tomato nonetheless. A shudder goes down your spine at the way he stares right through you. “I don’t think I can handle another second seeing any one of them.”

…?

“W-WHY?? SUPERNATURALS ARE AMAZING CREATURES !!” You cry out, unable to hold back.

“Wha…? What makes you say that?”

There’s a hint of a spark happening between you two, one filled with tension and the start of a very very long argument between the justification of supernaturals.

Not that you intended to speak up and start a fight about it, you had only wanted to bring up a few points. Which he had a rebuttal for every time. Perhaps this is why you liked this smartass, but never did you think that you would be on the opposing side of the debate.

“Aoi-kun, I’m pretty sure not all of them are bad..!”

“You might want to see a certain seventh somewhere--.”

“YOU KNOW THE SEVENTH MYSTERY ???”

Secretly, your foot hurt like actual hell, having been pushed to the ground rather harshly after almost being struck by a truck. But how could you let this chance pass by? You were finally talking to the boy you simped for and you have the chance to meet more supernaturals and apparitions!

Granted, you almost died and you were both arguing about the goodness of supernaturals and apparitions, BUT STILL—!!

“I don’t think he appreciates seeing someone limp into his stall.”

Akane motions over to your foot. The foot that you were trying so desperately to hide but alas, the awkwardness stood out.

“Um… I-I’ll go to the clinic then! After that, you can take me to see Hanako-san…!”

Two steps forward and you were already wobbling. You were determined to get to the clinic without any hesitation if it meant finding out more of these supernaturals that always invaded your mind, if you weren’t already thinking about Akane.

Being the gentleman that he was forced to be by one strict Teru Minamoto, he had, as much as he didn’t want to offer because he was salty, offered you a, “Do you want me to take you to clinic?” which you may have replied with a small nod, the flush on your cheeks rising significantly so.

Significantly so may have been a slight understatement.

Your cheeks—no, your entire face raged with a pink blush once Akane put his hand on yours, telling you to lean on him if your legs hurt too much. The way he held your hand calmly without hesitation made it seem like he experienced this sort of thing before. Or maybe he spent his time eagerly researching this for Aoi’s sake. ‘Okay, yeah, it’s definitely the second one.’ You sink your head low in dismay.

Thankfully, the clinic wasn’t too far off since the incident took place right at the exit of the school. Making quick work into getting to the clinic, also avoiding the people who looked at you two quietly bickering about another something related to your slowly developing debate about supernaturals and all that. Or perhaps they looked at you two and wondered why two simps were spending time with each other. What if they thought you were dating him (finally) and Akane had given up on Aoi--

You scoff, immediately letting the fleeting thought away. Akane raised an eyebrow at your action but you simply looked away, not acknowledging the other thoughts that crowded your mind.

“Can you open the door while—”

“Yeah, I think I can just…”

After a few minutes of trying to open the door leading to the clinic, and failing miserably, your prayers have finally been answered. By a fellow Student Council Member.

“Oh! (L/N)-san!” This girl is… the ‘Secretary’ of the Student Council, if the messy black hair, the dark red ribbon hanging loosely around the back, and the round glasses framing her small face was any indication. “What happened?”

“I tripped and fell on the sidewalk.” You explain, not delving into any of details because even if the guy you just had to like out of everyone else (seriously, why couldn’t you have liked Minamoto-senpai instead? It’d probably be so much easier) had a bunch of hatred for the ones you absolutely adored (and you still didn’t get why he hated all of them instead of merely hating the ones who pushed Aoi), you still didn’t want to cause any trouble for him.

The ‘Secretary’ looks at you two for a bit, a small knowing smirk gracing her lips, which she tried to hide with her hand but failed, and walked away. She also mentioned something about the ‘President’ dropping off some paperwork on his desk. You don’t know why Akane’s expression turned into a disgusted one but you didn’t want to pry on that.

Oh nono, you wanted to pry about something else.

Right after sitting down on the bed after the nurse had told you to do so, you began swinging your legs out of nervousness. And you regretted that a second later because the pain finally settled in. Akane had thrown an ‘are-you-kidding-me?’ look at you and you replied by rolling your eyes into oblivion. Not wanting the silence between you two to thicken (or maybe you should, you were literally on the verge of kicking your crush when he mentioned how annoying your beloved Mokke were), you somehow managed strike up a conversation.

“Say… what happened to that truck a while ago?” Gold star for not stuttering over there, champ.

Akane turns to look at you, lips screwed tight and eyes wide. Had he not noticed it? How his supernatural suit and tie and honestly aesthetically pleasing outfit went away and changed back to his normal uniform? How the truck had crashed into a pole instead of you? Considering the amount of shock graced his features, it’s safe to assume that you were correct. Seriously though, how could he not have noticed?

‘Maybehewasfocusingonyou—SHUT UP’

He’s silent, not willing to admit that he did not, in fact, notice the truck nor his outfit changing. You hear him mumble a few words under his breath, definitely not missing the ‘That bastard might actually kill me this time’ or the ‘If Ao-chan ever finds about this…’ but he stops when the doctor of the school clinic came in.

“So, (L/N)-san, what do we have here this time?” The doctor, Nito-san, asks for the third time this week (or was it the fourth…?). He kind of looked frustrated with you, which you brushed off with an awkward chuckle. You could have sworn you heard Akane stifle a laugh. “Did you fall from the stairs again?”

“Not today, haha…” ‘CNDSJFNDSFOSID’ You fumed, hands clenching into fists. Now you heard Akane actually having to hide his laughter, which resulted in you having to cover your face with your hands.

Oh, why did you have to come in like this Nito-san??? WHY???

As if God Himself heard you, you were blessed when Teru Minamoto poked his head in from outside the room’s door. Funnily enough, he did not have his usual smile and ^^ on his face. He just looked lowkey pissed, which was a first for you and for people inside the clinic.

“Aoi-kun, why don’t we have a chat outside?”

You glanced at Akane in concern, and your choice was right, he should be of concern right now. He looked like a man about to be executed.

“Y-Yeah…”

At this point, you might as well plan his funeral. Yes, Aoi is going to have to give a speech about him or he would haunt the school. ‘Wait isn’t he already haunting the school—’ You thought as Akane was pretty much dragged outside by Teru. ‘Oh, I didn’t get to ask him about Hanako-san!’ You frowned, slapping yourself on the face. Although, you probably shouldn’t be focusing on that as of now, since Nito-san looks... positively furious.

| end notes ! | i’m so sorry for the long wait !! and i’m really sorry if the update wasn’t as good as you’d thought it would be,, not that it was alr good to begin with :’>

taglist: @astrxrism​ @sparkleswritings​ @closetweebsmh​ 

[hyucks-archive]

perhaps; maybe.

word count: 9,765

genre: romance, angst

member(s): mark, featuring donghyuck, jeno, and the other dreamies

warning(s): none!

author’s note: this actually started out as a fluff fic but i guess i haven’t gotten over angst yet

Mark watches the students stroll into the lecture hall one by one, the conversation that his friends are having slowly dwindling into background noise. Mark props an arm on the table, resting his chin in his palm, noticing how majority of the students have their earbuds plugged in, a coffee or tea in hand. He too, grew up hearing the anecdotes of how college life is always lonely and independent, and that most would hang around campus without friends. It’s different for Mark, though. He’s lucky enough to be taking the same degree as some of his friends. He’s even luckier that all of his friend group belong to this university.

When the twelfth student walks in, he notices how the aura that surrounds this person is significantly different from the rest. Cladded in a full black outfit, Mark notices how unlike the others, you don’t have music playing in your ears, neither do you have a cup of beverage in hand. In fact, it doesn’t even look like you have anything in the tote you have slung on your shoulder. Mark watches as you take a seat by the left aisle, two rows in front of the row he’s situated in.

“What are you staring at?” Jeno interrupts, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder with Mark. He follows in the direction Mark’s eyes are looking in, to be greeted by your unwelcoming back. “Why are you staring at that kid?” Jeno questions. Mark shrugs. Mark remembers seeing you around campus numerous times, even more frequently in lectures, and consistently in that one tutorial class the two of you have in common. He has always noticed something different about you; maybe it’s your aura, or maybe it’s just Mark being the curious boy he is. The common baseline is that you intrigue him, and you somehow always manage to catch his attention, whether you know it or not.

“Are you guys staring at 06?” Donghyuck chimes in, resting his arm on Jeno’s shoulder. The three boys are now collectively staring at the big ‘0’ and ‘6’ printed on the back of your letterman jacket, that clearly does not categorise you into any athletic club, neither is it merchandise from the university. “Do you guys know 06?” Mark questions, turning to face his two friends. Jeno shakes his head, while Donghyuck is more than eager to share. “I hear 06’s really chill. Doesn’t ‘do’ friends,” he says, using his fingers to make inverted commas at the word ‘do’, “Doesn’t really care for school either. 06 kind of just,” Donghyuck takes a pause, trying to think of the right word. He settles for, “Exists.”

Mark and Jeno nod their heads in understanding. Mark resettles his gaze on the back of your head. Jeno nudges him, “You interested in 06 or something?”

Mark recalls the one time he’s ever heard you speak. It was during a tutorial, where you were pinpointed to answer. He had never thought much of you before that, simply falling into the assumption that you are one of the introverted kids who prefers to keep to themselves. But the way you stood up confidently, and the way your booming voice captured the entire class, painted you in a completely different light compared to what Mark had imagined. He had always thought that you’d have a soft, timid voice, afraid to make a mistake, like most of the other quiet kids. But when he saw the way you answered the professor’s question without any doubt or fear of being wrong, he realised you were different.

He takes a moment to ponder upon Jeno’s question. “06 is,” Mark pauses, pursing his lips, “Interesting.”

Donghyuck scans the café, finally spotting Renjun, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung by the large glass panel. “Over there,” he says, leading the way. Mark and Jeno follow behind, exchanging smiles and small waves with their friends. “You guys already ordered?” Donghyuck says, reaching for Renjun’s fork. Renjun slaps the boy’s hand away, “Get your own cake,” he chimes. Donghyuck mimics him in an annoyingly high tone, switching targets. He’s now going for Chenle’s cake. Chenle lets him eat it.

“I’ll order,” Mark offers, “What do you guys want?” he asks, directing his question at Donghyuck and Jeno. “I’ll have my usual,” Jeno says, to which Mark nods his head. Donghyuck looks past Mark’s shoulders, trying to get a view of the menu, but something else catches his eye instead. It’s the very familiar back view with the big ‘06’ printed on that he had discussed with his friends about earlier. “Hey, it’s 06 again,” Donghyuck comments, gesturing in your direction with his chin.

“06?” Renjun murmurs, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks in the direction where Donghyuck had guided towards. He squints his eyes, finding the face of the owner of the letterman jacket to be fairly familiar. When he realises it’s you, he snaps his fingers, “Ah, I know 06,” Renjun exclaims. Mark’s interest is immediately piqued. He turns to look at Renjun, “You know 06?”

“Yeah, 06’s in my ethics class,” he says.

“Is it true? 06 is really chill and doesn’t have any friends?” Jeno asks.

“06 is probably the most carefree person I’ve ever met,” Renjun describes, “Doesn’t care what people think. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve even seen 06 smile.” Renjun thinks back to the many times he has seen you in class. You always donned the same blank expression, even when the class would erupt in laughter at the lecturer’s or the students’ jokes. He had wondered for a brief moment if you simply weren’t paying attention, but when you had shared your opinion that made everyone cackle in their seats, you remained neutral with your poker face.

The topic is dropped when Chenle begins to talk about an incident that happened in class today. Mark heads to join the queue to order. He happens to be standing behind you.

Though there is a good amount of distance between the two of you, Mark is still able to pick up the subtle scent of clean linen that diffuses from you. It’s extremely pleasant and welcoming, a contrast from your cold and unamiable aura. Mark watches as you reach into your tote bag, aggressively digging around for something. He isn’t able to see your expression, for your back is still turned against him. He however, manages to catch the, “Shit,” that escapes from your mouth.

You furrow your eyebrows, flipping the minimal items you have in your tote bag around, desperate to find your card or some loose change. In your rush this morning, you had forgotten your wallet on the dining table back home. You groan, running a frustrated hand through your hair. You sigh, about to leave the line, when a low voice speaks from behind, “Do you need help?” You jump at the suddenness, turning around to look up to be greeted by a black-haired boy who has on an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. You notice how defined his cheekbones are, how his cheeks sink in slightly with his smile. You aren’t sure if you’re just seeing things, but you swear you noticed for a second that his eyes were twinkling.

Realising that you’ve been staring for a tad bit too long, you immediately avoid eye contact, snapping back to your senses. You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you say, taking the first step to move out of the line. The boy stops you, “You’re not ordering anymore?” he asks. This time, you notice how his brows are raised, a tiny mole on his left cheek, his lips seemingly forming a ‘o’. Usually, you’d just walk away murmuring your answer, but this boy seemed genuinely too nice for you to just ignore.

“I uh,” you bite down on your lower lip, “Forgot my wallet.”

You were expecting the conversation to end, but the boy only giggles at your issue. He tilts his head to the side a little, “I’ll pay,” he says. From the sincere smile that he’s giving you, you can tell that he means what he said. But, you still shake your head, refusing to be indebted to some stranger you happened to meet on campus. You’d have no way of repaying him, aside from deliberately meeting up with him; another thing you didn’t want, the risk of becoming personally acquainted to someone.

“Too late,” he says, giving you a light shove, “It’s your turn to order.”

You’re unable to register the situation fully, the barista greeting you with a polite smile. “What would you like?” he asks, ready to key in your order. “Oh,” you manage out, only collecting your thoughts now. “I’ll just get a chai tea to-go, please,” you say. The boy behind you takes a step forward, his shoulder brushing against yours, beginning to place his order. You take a few steps to the side due to the physical contact. Luckily, you’re able to just disguise it as moving aside to wait for your order, since there was no need for you to remain at the cashier.

When he has completed the payment, he walks over to join you.

“I’ll pay you back,” you say. “Sure,” his smile still plastered on his face, “You can just look for me in class.”

You stop for a moment, eyes shifting about as you try to dig into the deep depths of your memory. You don’t remember having seen him before. Granted, you honestly don’t even remember a single face of anyone in any of your classes.

“We take the same class?” you ask. Mark thinks you’re joking, so he laughs. But when he sees the slightly raised brow, genuine confusion in your face, he realises you’re being serious, that you’ve never noticed him before. It leaves a slightly sour taste in his mouth, but he manages to maintain a smile. “You’re in all of my lectures,” he says, “And one tutorial.”

You nod your head. That makes things a lot less of a headache for you. “I’ll pay you tomorrow, then,” you say. Mark nods his head in acknowledgement, reaching a hand out, “I’m Mark,” he introduces. You stare at his extended hand for a moment – you’ve never encountered a situation where you’re basically forced to return the introduction. You know it would come off as rude if you choose to not shake his hand, but you’re not one to care for others’ opinions. Life wouldn’t be fun if you wasted it worrying about how your every little action would frame the opinion of someone else. Not that life is fun for you, anyway.

That is why you simply look away from Mark’s hand, towards the collection counter. Mark stares at your side profile, unsure of what your actions mean. Usually, the other party would get the message that you don’t want to exchange names, but this boy, Mark, is different. He’s persistent, tilting his body in the direction of your line of vision, “Um, hello?” he says.

You turn to look at him. “I don’t do friends,” you state.

Mark recalls the conversation with Jeno and Donghyuck pre-lecture, where Donghyuck had shared about how you don’t ‘do’ friends. He had assumed it meant something different, but he realises now that it means you don’t make friends with people. He huffs out a smile at the thought; his interest in you seems to only grow as the interaction goes on. You’re different, just as he expected.

Before he’s able to say anything more, the buzzer in his hand lights up, vibrating as an indication that his order is ready. He walks towards the collection counter, and you follow behind. Because of the amount of drinks and plates of food he had ordered, his order was separated into two trays. You look at the trays for a moment – are you feeling nice enough to offer a helping hand? Technically, he can just make two trips.

“Here,” Mark says, holding out your cup of tea that he had already slipped on the sleeve for. Maybe it’s because you realised, he isn’t even going to ask you for your help, or it’s because Mark’s smile makes you want to do something nice, so you offered. “I’ll help you with that,” you say, taking the drink from him, placing it back down on the tray. You lift the tray up, “Where’s your table?”

Mark picks up the other tray, leading the way to the boys. Chenle is the first to notice Mark approaching, and he’s quick to notify the rest of the person following behind Mark. By the time you had arrived at the table, their stares are boring into you. Mark coughs awkwardly, trying to signal at them to stop staring, but his friends don’t seem to get it.

“Hey, 06,” one of them calls. ‘06’; the nickname you somehow go by on campus, just because of the jacket you always have on. You look in the direction of the voice, to be greeted by a somewhat familiar face. You remember him, only because he’s one of the only students from your ethics class who dares to have an opinion on things. You liked his gusto. “Hi,” you say.

You hold up your cup of chai tea by its sleeve, giving a slight tilt of the head at Mark, before turning around to take your leave.

“Damn, Mark, you work fast,” Jeno teases, taking his plate of food over to his side of the table. Mark rolls his eyes, explaining briefly that he simply paid for your drink because you forgot to bring your wallet. Luckily for him, his friends lose interest in topics as quickly as they get interested in them. Everyone is now listening to Jaemin rambling on about how the lecturer in his class is the most unreasonable man he’s ever met in his “many” years of living.

Mark is half-focused on the conversation, but the other half of his mind is occupied by the image of you.

Perhaps it’s the way that you managed to maintain a blank expression without smiling even once, during the entire interaction, or it’s the way you didn’t hesitate to leave without looking back. It could even be the way you’re so nonchalant about everything. Either way, Mark has come to realise one thing.

He can’t keep his eyes off of you.

You run a hand through your hair, exiting the lift. You reach into your bag, pulling out the exact amount of change for the chai tea from yesterday. Entering the lecture hall, you skim through the vicinity, spotting Mark by the middle row. He’s staring up at his purple-haired friend in awe, laughing while hitting the brown-haired boy next to him. Despite the round-frame glasses he has on today, you’re sure that this time, you definitely saw the sparkle in his eyes.

You make your way up to Mark, standing a distance away, behind the purple-haired boy who stands in the way in getting to Mark. You lean to the left a little, waiting for Mark to catch your eye. He doesn’t, but his brown-haired friend notices you, and he’s quick to gesture the black-haired boy towards you. Mark’s smile widens when he makes eye contact with you. He stands up, brushing past the purple-haired boy, towards you. You can’t help but be conscious of the slight tugging at the ends of your lips. You manage to supress it, but it’s undeniable that you just felt the minor urge to smile.

“Hey,” he greets. You hold out the money, “Thanks,” you say. Mark’s fingertips brushes against your palm as he takes the money from you. You turn, about to walk to a different row, but you’re stopped by the slight tugging at your sleeve. You look down, to see two fingers pinching at the end of your sleeve. Your eyes travel up the arm, past the neck, to the eyes of Mark, who is holding on to your sleeve.

“Sit with us,” he says. Mark isn’t sure if the reason he’s offering is because you’re always sitting alone during lectures, or it’s because he wants to be able to prolong the time he’s able to spend with you, without looking like some creep. Either way, he’s anticipating your answer.

Your eyes travel back down to Mark’s two fingers that are still holding on to your sleeve. Mark is lucky he didn’t grab your wrist, because you would’ve shrugged it off so harshly, that it’d probably ruin any chances of him ever wanting to reconcile with you. You’re not sure if Mark grabbed your sleeve with the knowledge of how much you hate physical contact, or if Mark is just so considerate to the point where he won’t lay a finger on someone he doesn’t really know. But the fact that he’s respectful enough to not touch you is the only factor that makes you say, “Okay.”

Mark shifts his things over to the seat next to you. “By the way,” he says, waiting for you to look up. “This is Donghyuck and Jeno,” he introduces, gesturing towards the purple-haired boy then the brown-haired boy. Jeno smiles sweetly, while Donghyuck simply gives a nonchalant bow, before sliding into his seat. They don’t ask for your name. You wonder if Mark had told them not to; maybe your encounter with Mark yesterday had sparked an entire discussion about you. You’re usually not one to care for these things, but you aren’t able to stop the constant thought about the fact that if they did indeed discuss about you, what did Mark have to say?

“Where’s your laptop?” Mark asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. “I don’t bring one,” you reply. You expect his next question, so you explain before he even asks, “I don’t see a need for it.” Mark nods his head, but you’re positive he doesn’t understand why you feel that there’s no need for a laptop.

The lecturer begins at that point, so the two of you turn to focus your attention on the lecture.

“Alright, remember that we’ll be needing your textbook for the next lecture,” the lecturer announces, disconnecting his laptop from the visualiser. The lecture hall is filled with groans and yawns, some students who are quick to leave, while others stay behind to exchange small talk with their peers.

You sling your tote bag over your shoulder, standing up from your seat. Mark notices this, but he’s quick to react. “Hey,” he calls. You turn your head, looking down at the boy. You want to know the reason behind how Mark is always able to keep that same bright smile on his face. Come to think of it, you don’t remember seeing him with a serious expression at all. You continue to stare, waiting for Mark to continue his sentence.

“Do you want to join us for lunch?”

You don’t even spare a moment to hesitate. “No,” you reply.

“You should join us for lunch, 06. We don’t bite,” Jeno adds on. His eyes form pretty crescents when he smiles. You’re about to reject their offer, but Donghyuck cuts in, “I’ll bite. Why should we have lunch with 06?” He doesn’t spare you a glance, but you can tell from his expression, that he’s not your biggest fan. You see Jeno nudging the boy with his elbow, and Mark shooting a look of disapproval. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to let this Donghyuck kid have his way, but you find yourself agreeing to their offer before you’re even able to think twice. “I’m down for lunch,” you say. You’re too busy eyeing Donghyuck’s expression of displeasure to notice Mark’s perked up smile at your agreement.

Jeno and Donghyuck lead the way, while Mark follows your pace as you stroll along behind them. Mark is trying to dig through his brain for a topic to talk to you about. He sneaks a glance at you, your blank expression unreadable.

“Does having lunch with us make you feel uncomfortable?” Mark finally speaks up, turning his head to look at you. You’re quiet for a moment. Usually, the answer ‘yes’ would roll of your tongue without any conscious effort required. “A little,” is what you settle for. Mark nods his head, “I assure you my friends are all nice people,” he says, a small laugh decorating the end of his sentence. You nod your head, biting down on your bottom lip.

Soon enough, Jeno spots the other half of the group already seated in the café. You drag your feet behind the three boys, the stares from the rest evident.

“06 is joining us for lunch,” Jeno informs. Mark gestures you to take a seat by the far left of the table. Donghyuck claims the seat opposite to yours. “We can take turns?” Mark suggests, to which you give a nod of acknowledgement. Mark, Jeno, and two of the other boys head to get their food first. In the meantime, you’re left sitting in an extremely awkward silence. Donghyuck, who had his arms folded, back leaned against his chair, shifts his body to rest his folded arms on the table instead. He looks at you, stare cold and unpleasant. You furrow your brows. “What?” you say.

“Stay away from Mark.”

Your expression hardens further. “What are you talking about?”

“Mark isn’t like you. Stay away,” Donghyuck has a brow raised, his glare menacing. You’re unsure of what you could’ve possibly done to offend the boy to this extent, but you’re not interested enough to ask. You’re robbed of the chance to anyway, when Renjun decides to add himself to the conversation. He throws an arm around Donghyuck, a smile on his lips as he asks, “What’s got the two of you so serious?” Donghyuck shrugs, not forgetting to give you one more glare, almost as though it were a form of warning. You scoff, rolling your eyes as you look away from the two boys who are sitting opposite to you.

You can feel the familiar discomfort in your abdomen. Your hand instinctively finds its way to place pressure on the hurting area, the beads of cold sweat beginning to form. You can already feel your lips becoming drier with every passing second.

You decide there’s nothing worth staying for. If you’re not welcome, you’re not going to force your presence unto people. So you grab your bag, stand up, and begin to walk away from the table. You ignore Renjun’s call for you.

“What the heck did you say to 06?” Renjun hisses, shoving Donghyuck by the arm. “I only said what I needed to say,” the purple-haired boy murmurs in reply. Mark arrives back at the table first, placing his tray of food down. “Where’s 06?” he asks, looking at the empty chair that you once occupied. “Donghyuck said something that probably pissed 06 off,” Renjun tattles, shooting a glare in said boy’s direction. Mark looks to Donghyuck for an explanation, a brow raised questioningly.

Donghyuck shrugs the attention off, “Not my fault 06 can’t take honesty.”

You drop the bottle of painkillers into your bag. You comb your fingers through your hair, the perspiration from earlier causing the strands to cling together. You let out a small breath; at least the torment is over, for now.

You fixate your eyes on the floor, watching as your feet take turns to invade the little space your eyes can capture. You shove your free hand into the pocket of your letterman jacket, a cup of chai tea in your other hand. You replay the words Donghyuck had said to you earlier. Stay away from Mark, he said. Why? You never approached Mark to begin with. Yeah, you’re unfriendly and borderline rude but you’ve never done anything that would warrant an outright warning to keep away from someone. Mark isn’t like you, he said. What’s that supposed to mean? That Mark is the personification of rainbows and galaxies but you’re the personification of dirt and dark alleys?

You don’t understand what Donghyuck has against you. You scoff at the thought of the whole situation – good golly, you didn’t even know of Mark’s existence until he approached you in the café a day ago. Yet suddenly, you’re the biggest threat to Mark, in Donghyuck’s narrative.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you jump at the sudden tap on your shoulder, whipping your entire body around so fast that you collide with the being behind you, your chai tea staining his shirt. “I’m so sorry,” you gasp, tugging on the sleeve of your jacket to grab it in your palm, using the cloth to dab at the stains your tea has caused. The being giggles. Your brows furrow instantly; it’s a giggle you’re somewhat familiar with.

You look up to meet eyes with the owner of the giggle, Mark. He stares down at you, noticing the remnants of the ordeal you had been through – the greasy hair, the pale, almost chapped lips, the tired look in your eyes. He doesn’t think much of it, his smile maintaining its charm. “What are you doing here?” you question. Mark points at the building behind you, “I’m running some errands. What are you doing here? You left without saying anything earlier I didn’t expect to still see you around campus,” he beams. Your eyes travel back down, realising now that you still held the hem of his shirt in your hand. You let go, standing upright.

“I just didn’t feel like staying there,” you say. Mark doesn’t probe any further; he has an inkling that Donghyuck must’ve said something offensive. “Do you live on campus?” you ask, eyeing the very obvious chai tea stain on Mark’s shirt. “I don’t. Why?”

“If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll run back to the dorms to get a shirt for you.”

Mark’s smile widens. “That’ll be nice.”

After a short ten-minute walk, you push open the door to your single-room dormitory, also known as your safe space. In your time living here, you’ve never had anyone over. You don’t consider Mark the first, because you never really intended for him to enter your room. He just followed behind and stepped in himself, no invite whatsoever. You’re not really affected by it, retrieving an oversized t-shirt from your wardrobe the only concern in mind.

Mark looks around the small studio apartment, taking in how minimalistic the entire setting is. He realises you don’t even have any photos, memories, or decorations hanging on the wall. Everything is clean and neatly placed, your belongings categorised into the practical and the necessities. He looks over towards you, your head buried under the shirts and jackets you have hanging on the rod. His eyebrows raise in interest when he notices that by the left corner of the wardrobe, hangs another two letterman jackets identical to the one you have on. They all have the big ‘06’ imprinted on the back.

“Here,” you say, holding out a plain black oversized shirt. Mark takes it from you, commenting, “I didn’t know you had three of those,” he gestures to the letterman jacket that you’re semi-drowning in. You slide the door of your wardrobe close, “I have to have a replacement when one of them is in the wash.”

“Is there some meaning behind 6?”

You look into Mark’s eyes. The two of you share a moment. It’s the first time someone has asked about the meaning behind ‘06’. Maybe it’s because nobody else ever had the chance to, but even if they did, they’d probably just be asking for the fun of it. Every time Mark asks you something, you can tell from his gaze that he genuinely wants to know the answer. He genuinely listens to your replies, regardless of how insignificant or dismissive they may be. Maybe it’s because Mark is the first person in a long time that has ever showed even a minute sign of interest in you, but you find yourself satisfying his curiosity.

“There are many meanings to the number 6. The meaning I relate it to is the need to find ways to move past feelings of fear and anxiety, to manifest what I want.”

It’s Mark’s turn to be silent. He looks at you, your expression as blank as it has always been, your eyes shifting around from the awkwardness of the prolonged eye contact. He didn’t expect that answer. People usually either used their birthdates or their favourite number as their ‘representative’ number. You’re the first person to give him an actual meaning behind the decision you made.

“You’re really different,” Mark says, voice almost coming out as a whisper.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’ve never been complimented like that before. Heck, you don’t even know if it’s a compliment. But you’re unable to deny the heat that rushes to your face, the warmth that spreads throughout your body. You don’t know if Mark notices. You don’t know if Mark can tell. But when you see his eyes flicker to level with your cheeks, the heat that overwhelms you only intensifies.

Mark’s never been this bold before. He has never been this straightforward with anyone. When you don’t answer, he panics a little, but then he notices the rose pink that decorates your cheeks. Did he, perhaps, make you blush? Is this his first time witnessing something different from your signature blank expression?

“You should go change,” you blurt, averting the topic. You point towards the bathroom, “Over there.”

Mark nods his head, turning around, closing the bathroom door after he enters. You let out a huge breath, pursing your lips. First, he’s the cause of the urge to smile. Second, his words make you blush. Third – you place a hand against your chest, feeling for your heartbeat. Mark makes your heart thump.

You want to be around Mark.

Mark comes out of the bathroom, your oversized shirt decently fitting on him. He smiles, “Thank you,” he says. “I’m really sorry about that,” you say, pointing towards his chai tea-stained shirt. Mark shakes his head, “No big deal. I’ll see you around?”

You nod your head.

“See you around.”

It’s been four days since you’ve last seen Mark. The interval made you realise that your once empty mind is now filled with hints of Mark. His endearing smile would pop up in your mind every once in a while, and his childlike giggles would ring in your ears from time to time. Mark is the warm presence in your otherwise cold world.

You’re preoccupied with your thoughts when there’s a knock on the door. You glance at the clock – 5PM on a Sunday afternoon, and you’re not expecting any guests. You sigh, slipping on an oversized hoodie to cover up your worn-out t-shirt. Running your sleeved-palm over your face, you reach for the door handle, pushing it downwards,

Mark waits patiently for you to answer the door, the t-shirt you had lent him neatly folded in his hands. When you pull the door open, the wind from the swift motion causes your baby hairs to dance along with the wind, tickling the sides of your face. Mark feels his heart skip a beat, the moment playing out in half the time of its actual speed. He swallows.

You look up to meet eyes with Mark. Your brows raise momentarily,

“Sorry,” he begins, “For showing up unexpectedly. I just came by to return this,” he holds out your shirt. You look down at the article of clothing, taking it from his hands, nodding your head in understanding. “Thanks,” you say, reaching to lay the shirt on the table. You look towards Mark once more. “Anything else?” you question, seeing that he’s still standing in the corridor.

Mark looks down at his converse. He contemplates if he should do what he actually came here for. Jeno’s voice replays in his head – just man up and ask 06 to join us. Donghyuck needs to apologise for saying things he shouldn’t have said the other day anyway. Though Mark and the rest of the boys are still unaware of what exactly Donghyuck had said, he agrees with Jeno’s sentiments.

“Actually,” he pauses, biting down on his lower lip. There it is again; the feeling of the two ends of your lips being tugged upwards. You blink multiple times – did you just think Mark is… cute? You almost miss his next sentence, “Do you want to go to the roller rink with the guys?” he ends with a shy smile, his fingers automatically clasping together due to the nerves. He looks at you, patiently waiting for your answer.

Usually, the answer ‘no’ would have escaped your lips before you can even think twice. But at this very moment, you’re standing opposite Mark, looking into his eyes, hesitating. It feels as though you’re beginning to lose the composure you’ve spent your entire life building. The rational ways you’d utilise to stay away from people, they’re starting to become blurry, just because of the boy who stands before you.

The fine line you’ve drawn to divide yourself from the rest of the world has become blurry ever since Mark’s appearance.

To move past the fear and anxiety that comes with building a relationship, in order to manifest the friendship that you seek.

You nod your head. “Sounds cool.”

So you find yourself trailing behind Mark at 5:37PM in the afternoon, eyes roaming around the vicinity in curiosity, taking in the very unfamiliar, loud, neon-filled surrounding. You’ve never been to any place of entertainment before, let alone a roller rink that majority of the population have never even been near. In some way, you guys are lucky enough to be schooling in this area – the roller rink is a ’90s themed hangout spot, with a jukebox that’s unique to every table, in comparison to the central speaker system used in all other modern buildings. A small smile creeps its way up your lips; you’re in a trance from the vibes of the place.

If there’s anything you love in this world, it’s nostalgia. Every movie you’ve ever liked, every series you’ve ever binged, they all screamed the ’90s. You’re extra sold by the fact that the different jukeboxes are rolling tunes from Destiny’s Child, Backstreet Boys, Guns N’ Roses, instead of the 21st century pop or rap that would be blasting in any other joint. Your smile widens, but you don’t even realise it. You’re finding more joy in this dated roller rink than you’ve ever felt anywhere else.

Mark turns around to tell you something. Instead, he stops in his tracks, the smile that spreads across your lips stunning him. The way your eyes light up, complementing your smile, and the way the apples of your cheeks are dabbed in a light scarlet; you’ve never looked more ravishing than you do in this very moment. Mark isn’t sure what’s the reason behind your smile, but he’s glad he managed to capture the moment first-hand.

You’re too busy basking in the glory of the vibes of the place that you don’t realise Mark has stopped walking. You almost bump into him, but you managed to stop in time. You’re now standing a small distance in front of Mark, who’s just staring at you. You don’t realise why, until your cheek muscles provide you with the answer. You let out a small gasp, your smile vanishing instantly. You cough, pursing your lips.

“What?” you say, shamelessly.

Mark doesn’t push for anything. He simply widens his smile, “They’re over there,” he says, pointing to the booth that’s hidden in the corner. You nod your head, gesturing for Mark to continue leading the way, while you followed behind. You mentally slap yourself – you’ve revealed way too many sides of yourself to Mark, that’s telling of who you truly are as a person, and not who you want people to think you are. You shake your head; maybe Mark hasn’t caught on. Maybe Mark just thinks you’re a looney ball. There’s a high possibility of that.

“06!” the blue-haired boy calls, a bright smile accompanying his greeting. “I’m Jaemin,” he says, “Didn’t get to introduce myself the other time, before you left.” You nod your head in acknowledgement.

“I’m Chenle,” the other black-haired, fair skinned one waves. “Jisung,” the brown-haired, coupled with lighter brown highlights, introduces. You nod your head at both of them; you can tell those two can’t be bothered about you. They’re too engrossed in whatever game they’re playing on their handphones.

“Hey, 06,” Jeno greets, as you claim the seat beside him. Donghyuck just shoots you a look, before averting his attention back to the conversation he was having with Renjun. “I’m glad you came,” Jeno continues. “Why’d you leave so quick the other day?”

“No reason,” you reply.

Jeno simply purses his lips, nodding his head. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, but you’re appreciative that he doesn’t probe. Instead, Jeno calls over the table, “Let’s go rollerblade,” to the rest of the boys. Jisung and Chenle are practically dragged away from their phones by Jaemin, while Donghyuck is forced to remain in his seat by Renjun, who runs after the rest. Mark sends you a small smile, “You can just find us later,” he says, before following after the rest of the boys, leaving you and Donghyuck at the booth. You’re only catching on now that you were invited with a motive.

“They’re expecting me to apologise,” Donghyuck states, breaking the silence. You look towards him, his stare still as unwelcoming as it was four days ago. “But I’m not going to.”

You let out a breath of disbelief, furrowing one brow. “I don’t think I’ve ever offended you,” you say.

“You haven’t. But I can see through you,” he says, leaning his body forward tauntingly. He raises a brow, the side of his lip twitching, “You’re not serious about Mark.”

You roll your eyes. You mirror his position, resting your folded arms atop the table. “I’m not even interested in Mark.”

“You’re already starting to be interested,” he says, hitting the exact spot. He isn’t wrong. “And it’s only going to go downhill from here. Leave while you still can.” You can’t tell if Donghyuck is just being a protective friend, or if he just hates you for no apparent reason. You just want to know why he’s so adamant about the fact that your relationship with Mark will never work out. As though he’s able to read your mind, he answers that very question.

“Commitment doesn’t exist in your dictionary,” he states.

He’s right. Commitment doesn’t and cannot exist in your world. Your mouth is left open, but you’re not able to say anything in return. You bite down on your lower lip; Donghyuck is right. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but it’s clearly evident now. If you were to continue letting whatever you have with Mark develop, and for some reason, Mark sees things in a romantic light, he’s going to end up hurt. You’ve never really considered it from Mark’s perspective. While you’re trying to take everything as a platonic somewhat friendship, he might not hold the same viewpoint. For goodness sake, you’ve already began to see Mark romantically. You don’t know what’s on his mind.

“I’m going to go rollerblade,” you murmur, sliding yourself off the seat, out of the booth. You walk towards the rental booth, retrieving a pair of rollerblades. As you remove your sneakers to change into the rollerblades, Donghyuck’s words keep ringing in your head. It’s only going to go downhill from here, he said. You let out a hesitant breath – how would he know, right…?

You tighten the lace of the rollerblade, getting up, heading into the rink through the small opening. With your eyes fixed on the floor, you lunge yourself forward, Donghyuck’s words still replaying in your mind like a mantra. It’s only going to go downhill from here, he said.

The pain is here again. It’s intense. You furrow your brows and purse your lips, letting out a restrained gasp, your hand clutching onto your abdomen. You’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice the human-sized advertisement board that’s stationed in the middle of the rink. You’re not sure what happened, but the last thing you remember, is Jeno’s loud call for you, and Donghyuck’s words that keep haunting you – it’s only going to go downhill from here. You’ve blacked out.

Renjun is the first to arrive by your side, holding you up by your head. “What are we going to do?” Jisung panics, eyes fixated on the large cut on your forehead. “Go get the first aid kit,” Renjun calmly instructs. Jisung hurries to the front desk, while Mark removes his rollerblades in a hurry. “We have to get 06 out of here.” Mark lifts your body up bridal style, the rest of the boys surrounding him to ensure that the other people in the rink are kept at a distance.

Jeno holds the door open, while Mark enters, making his way to your bed. He waits as Jeno rushes over, pulling the comforter off the bed. Mark lays you down. “I’m going to go make sure we don’t get a ticket for the illegal parking,” Jeno says, handing Mark the key card to your dorm. Mark nods his head, “I’ll be down in a moment.”

Mark walks over to the bathroom, in search for a face towel. He finds one, turns on the tap, drenches it with water, turns off the tap, and wrings it, before making his way back to your sleeping figure. He folds the towel into a quarter, lightly dabbing at your face to get rid of the oils. When he’s done, he washes the towel out, hanging it by the drying rack. Mark notices you don’t have a humidifier in your room. He looks over at the kitchen. He pulls out the first drawer, hoping to find a glass, but instead, he finds a stash of photos you had chucked into the drawer.

He remembers how the first thing he noticed when he first came, was the fact that you didn’t have anything of sentimental value on display. He had thought you just simply didn’t care for it, but he realises now you do own things of sentimental value. You just didn’t have them on show. He skims through the stash – he realises how much you’ve changed physically; your body has significantly shrunk in comparison to before. He also realises you’ve done many things in your life. Your life seems even more carefree than you let on. He smiles.

Mark lays the glass of water he had filled by your bedside table. Grabbing the ends of the comforter, he brings it over your body, beginning to tuck you in. He notices your left hand peeking out of the comforter, so he holds it gently, placing it under the comforter. When he tries to pull away, he notices the sudden grip on his hand. He looks at your face; you’re still knocked out from the accident. Your slightly scrunched up facial features seem to indicate that you’re in discomfort.

“Are you awake?” he whispers. There’s no reply. He loosens up – he thinks he’s just misinterpreting your expression.

Mark takes the opportunity to stare at you a little longer. The soft breaths you let out the cutest thing he’s ever witnessed. The image of your smile flashes in Mark’s mind; he doesn’t understand why you don’t allow yourself to smile more often. Slowly, your grip on his hand loosens. Mark will remember your warm touch, even if you don’t remember his.

“Goodnight, 06,” he says, taking in your entirety one last time, before taking his leave.

You turn your head to the right, vision still blurry from both the fall and the excruciating pain in your abdomen. The tension in your body relaxes ever so slightly when you note that Mark only opened the first drawer. If he had gone on to the next, he would’ve discovered the one thing you’d never want him to know.

You wanted to finally be able to muster up the courage to ask Mark to stay. Maybe if he were by your side, things would be easier. But Mark doesn’t deserve such torment.

That night, as Mark tosses and turns in bed, he just can’t seem to rid the image of your smile off his head. He smiles, stuffing his face into his pillow. He can’t believe he’s fussing over something as simple as your smile. Perhaps Mark has delved deeper into your charms than he’s conscious of.

He’s just glad he has the next excuse to meet you again – the injury on your head.

Another three days have gone by since the roller rink incident. It’s to your luck that there weren’t any classes for the past three days, because the episodes were getting more frequent. It also gave you some time to heal the big fat scar on your forehead. You decide that it looks safe enough to just be left bare without a band-aid to cover it. You honestly can’t be bothered if the sight of the red cut freaks other students out. The wound needs to breathe to leave.

You enter the lecture hall, already catching some unwanted attention. You ignore the stares, heading for your usual seat by the left aisle, away from the crowd. Three boys are already sitting there when you arrive. You raise a brow.

“Feeling better?” Jeno asks, eyes flickering to the cut on your forehead, before looking back down into your eyes. You nod your head. “Sorry. If we knew this would happen, we wouldn’t have asked you to the roller rink,” he says. You shrug, “I chose to rollerblade on my own,” you say. It isn’t anybody’s fault this happened. In fact, you’re kind of glad it happened. At least it meant that you didn’t have to go back to the booth to face Donghyuck’s scrutiny. Speaking of, the boy is just sitting there, staring at the front of the hall, completely disinterested in you.

“I’m going to sit elsewhere,” you say, taking the first ascending step. Mark wraps his fingers around your wrist, a loose hold keeping you in place. It’s not even surprising anymore that you don’t immediately shrug his grip off. Maybe a part of you is slowly getting used to Mark. Maybe a part of you is slowly coming to accept Mark as somebody that you want in your life. Maybe, just maybe, you think it’s worth risking the hurt that comes with relationships, if it means you can dwell in Mark’s presence for a little longer.

You turn to meet eyes with him. From his gaze, you already know he’s telling you to sit with them. Your eyes shift to glance at Donghyuck, who is glaring at you at this point. His glare is telling of how he wants you to reject Mark, to go sit somewhere else, to get off Mark’s case. You’re conflicted.

“I’ll see you later,” you say. Mark pauses for a moment, eventually letting go of your wrist.

You walk up, to a seat a few rows above them.

You remain in your seat as you watch the other students scurry out of the lecture theatre upon dismissal. Your eyes find its way to the back of a certain slightly curly, black-haired boy’s head. Your eyes shift to rest on the white bottle that has basically become your lifeline at this point. A bitter scoff escapes your lips as the words ring in your mind – things are not looking optimistic.

Maybe that is the only reason why you find yourself getting off your seat, slinging your tote bag over your shoulder, descending a few steps to arrive at Mark’s row. You wait by the aisle for him to notice you. He does this time, without Jeno’s help. He looks at you, smile immediately stretching across his lips. “I said I’d see you later,” you say. Mark’s smile widens a little at that. You ignore the dirty look from Donghyuck, and you’re no longer foreign to the soft stare from Jeno.

“Are you free right now?” you ask.

There’s a light bulb that’s suddenly illuminating in Mark’s heart. Perhaps it should be the other way around. Perhaps he should’ve been the one to ask, but he’d only have a 20 percent chance of being graced with the answer he longs for. But here you are, standing before him, the question rolling off your tongue so easily, with a 100 percent chance of being graced with the answer you want to hear. Mark doesn’t even need to think twice. He’s been waiting for this, and he’s excited. He’s getting the feeling of warmth spreading throughout his body. His smile only gets bigger as he replies, “What do you have in mind?”

In 15 minutes, the two of you are still within the vicinity of the campus, but in land that is foreign to Mark, yet it’s as close as a second home to you. Mark looks over the horizon, the view simply striking to him. He never knew that such a place, let alone such a view, was in reach in a matter of minutes. It’s probably because it’s in restricted premises, but you don’t tell him that. His goody-two-shoes nature would freak out. But that’s a part of Mark’s charm.

“Damn,” he gasps, taking in a breath, “This is amazing.”

For the first time ever, in front of someone that’s not your reflection in the mirror, you smile, willingly. The way the gentle breeze tickles your skin, the way the rustling of the leaves creates a pleasant melody, the way the view serves as the perfect panoramic shot in a romance movie. It’s all fantasy, and it’s all your imagination. But at least you’re sharing it with the one person you’ve somehow created a bond with. People might think it’s ridiculous, you’ve barely interacted with the boy for more than two weeks. But those people are the same people who don’t believe that feelings of attachment and liking comes quickly, and they’ll always get to you. You can’t stop falling. That’s the fatal part of attraction.

You turn to look at Mark. You openly stare at his side profile, taking in his entirety, memorising the sound of his giggles, the little nose scrunch when he laughs, and the way his eyes light up when he smiles. Who knows? This might be the last.

Mark turns to look at you. He gazes into your eyes. It’s so heart-stopping you feel your breath hitch in your throat. Your heart is fluttering at the eye contact. He’s smiling, and he’s smiling for you. Maybe he has been all this while. But now, you’re smiling, and you’re smiling for him. You wonder what he’s thinking about.

Mark stares at you. Mark watches your eyes light up with joy, but he doesn’t know what sparks it. Mark notices how you are finally able to freely give in to the urge of allowing the two ends of your lips to be tugged upwards; Mark takes note of the way your eyes form crescents, the way the pink in your cheeks become prominent under the sunlight. It is as though the entire scene is unravelling in front of him in slow motion. The scene that stars only you.

The both of you feel it – the attraction. You’re fully aware of the reality of the situation in this moment. Mark is the warmth you don’t deserve. You’re the cold that’s toxic to him. Maybe not now, but you’ll eventually be.

Mark isn’t sure what’s got him so confident. Perhaps it’s the way your smile seems to be giving him the consent he seeks, and perhaps it’s the fact that he’s only realising now how hard he has fallen for you. You’re like the soil; regardless of how much he has dug, he still has so much more to dig. He doesn’t know you fully yet, and he isn’t confident that he ever will. He knows he wants to.

You notice when Mark’s eyes drop to your lips. Your body tenses as he inches forward, bit by bit. You want him to close the gap. You want his lips to come into contact with yours. You want to feel Mark’s warmth. But you know it all too well – warm and cold don’t mix well. They’re not meant for each other. You’re not Mark’s fate.

You place your hand on his chest; he stops immediately, eyes snapping up to meet yours. Embarrassed, he immediately takes a step back, avoiding eye contact, tugging at the hem of his shirt, letting out an awkward cough. “I’m so sorry,” he says. He mentally berates himself. You reach out, interlocking your fingers with his. He looks back at you, eyebrows raised, mouth forming an ‘o’. You remember that face. You let out a chuckle. That might just be the most beautiful thing Mark has ever heard. He doesn’t tell you, though.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say. Mark lets out a sigh of relief, “Good, otherwise it will be really awkward.” You chuckle once more – gosh, he’s really cute.

You reach into your pocket, pulling out the film you had prepared with the intention of giving it to Mark. You hold it out, and he takes it, analysing the photo. “What’s this?” he mutters, taking a closer look. He realises it’s a photo of your letterman jacket, the iconic ‘06’ that everyone has learned to associate you with, in full view. He looks up to meet eyes with you, awaiting your explanation. You smile, averting your attention to the beautiful view.

“Just because,” you say. Mark doesn’t understand.

“Mark?” you call.

“Yeah?”

“We have the whole of next week off, right?” Mark hums in response.

“Let’s meet here in exactly one week,” you turn to look him in the eyes. Maybe then, we can have our first kiss.

Mark smiles.

“Okay.”

Mark taps his fingers on the grass. He’s been waiting for an hour, but there’s still no sight of you. He checks the time – 4PM. He decides that you’re probably held back by something, so he continues to wait, biting on the insides of his lips as he counts down the minutes.

Another two hours go by. Mark is now laying on the grass, staring up at the sun that is beginning to set. He’s not sure why you still haven’t shown. Mark wonders if you have forgotten your promise to meet here today. It’s been a week of absolutely no contact, after all. He decides that it’s unlikely that you’ve forgotten. He believes you’ll show, so he continues to wait.

Another hour goes by. The sky is almost dark now. Mark sighs. Did you change your mind? Mark stands up. Usually, he’s not one to confront. But Mark treasures this connection. Mark wants to make things work, even if it means having to take multiple steps forward, whenever you take one step backwards. Mark begins the trail to the campus dormitories. Even if you’ve changed your mind, he deserves to know.

Mark knocks on your door. He waits. There’s no reply.

Mark knocks again. Silence.

’06?” he calls, knocking once more.

Your neighbour peeks her head out. “Are you looking for the tenant?” she asks. Mark nods his head. “The tenant already moved out,” she says. “What?” was all that Mark manages out.

Mark’s heart begins to pick pace, but not in a good way. He rushes down to the front desk.

“Did the student who lives in room 612 move out?” he asks, panting to catch his breath. The front desk lady looks stunned for a moment, but doesn’t question Mark’s intentions. She types at her desktop, clicks a few times, before replying with, “Oh, this student,” she says, distinctly recalling the haste in your exit. “Moved out a few days ago. It was so sudden, didn’t even bother about the overpaid rent,” she comments. Mark’s brows knit at the revelation. “06 left?” he breathes.

While the rest of the boys were busily engaged in their small clusters of conversation, Donghyuck has his eyes fixed on Mark. He knew this would happen. Donghyuck’s eyes rests upon the film that Mark holds with his fingers, as though it’s the most precious object he has ever laid his hands on. Donghyuck sighs. Mark looks up at Donghyuck briefly, a faint smile forming on his lips. Donghyuck clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval.

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck questions, even though he knows what the exact answer is. Mark shrugs, affirming Donghyuck’s assumption. “Seriously, when are you going to stop thinking about that person? It’s been months, close to a year, and you’re still holding onto the futile hope that something will change? Because it won’t.”

Mark lowers his gaze. He scoffs bitterly, “Maybe you’re right.”

“There’s no maybe, I’m always right.”

Mark doesn’t respond. Donghyuck looks at him, taking note of the genuine sorrow in his eyes. Mark has changed a lot within the span of the past few months. The Mark that was once overflowing with joy, bursting out in giggles and laughter over the smallest things; that Mark is gone. The Mark before him right now, is a Mark that hasn’t shown any signs of genuine happiness in forever. The Mark before him, is a Mark that has long forgotten how to feel the different emotions. That is, except one emotion – longing.

Donghyuck lets out another sigh.

Mark turns the film around. Hidden in the corner of the black coating, were the letters that forms your name, inked in black marker. It can only be seen when the light directly reflects upon the letters. Mark smiles a bittersweet smile. He remembers how carefree you were as a person. He remembers drawing up a mental metaphor to compare the way you lived life, to dancing. You lived everyday like you were dancing. Even more than he’d ever know.

Mark wonders where, with whom, and to what music you’d be dancing to now.

Without leaving a span of a shadow, where did you disappear to?

Hidden in the corner, amongst the very many slabs with semi-circular tops, sits one lonely slab, that is patiently waiting for the visitor who’ll never show up.

[gaphic]

@geeeny02 @ivehadanapophany @lastoneout

THANKS FOR ENABLING ME YALL

ok so, this isn't a criticism of the movie Raya so much as an observation of a corner disney have been steadily painted into with their most well-known IP: The Princesses.

It's pretty clear the studio has been struggling with their princesses for a while now- all of their live-action remakes have made painstaking (and painful) attempts to 'update' their female protagonists, and a lot of those changes are taking aim at the same problem: being a princess needs to like,,,, Mean something nowadays

Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Belle, Tiana, and Rapunzel all essentially become princesses as a reward for being Good. Their royalty is completely meaningless, it's just the romantic idea of 'being a princess' that little girls love.

Ariel goes from being a princess to being a princess and it means nothing, Jasmine's beef with her station in life has barely anything to do with being a princess (forced marriage isn't exactly exclusive to royalty!) and Merida just gets the exact same conflict but worse

Pocahontas stands out as the first princess to not really be a princess, but she's also the ONLY princess based on a person we objectively know existed, and thus a huge outlier. Mulan is the real change. She isn't royal at all, and I get the sense she was only included in the princess brand because... what else were they going to do with her? All their other animated leading women were united, one IP under marketing, amen. So it was either market Mulan alone, which would be strange, or sneak her in with the princesses and really push her more feminine outfits. Breathing a sigh of relief, disney went back to their usual fodder with Tiana and Rapunzel

...Then there was Frozen.

I honestly think it was a coincidence, but Frozen introduced the idea of the princess doing actual royal activities. There's a coronation, a state dinner with ambassadors, a hint of power struggle when Elsa leaves! And then the movie was a SMASH fucking hit and revitalized the hell out of disney's image.

By this time the romantic image of The Disney Princess has long lost its shine, so the mouse is RABID to recapture that success.

Moana gets an aesthetic stand-in for a coronation with the shots including her headdress, and the first act of the movie sets up that she's being groomed to take over one day. She makes executive decisions and helps solve problems, but her being a princess still doesn't really matter to the story, and while the movie was a huge hit, Princess Moana didn't quite slot into the brand like her predecessors did

Frozen 2 got weirder. More vague allusions to governing with evacuating Arendelle, then Elsa is hastily de-princessed and Anna becomes queen offscreen with NO buildup

The live-action remakes? Well. They change the characters a lot. But their relationship to royalty stays very much the same. At first. Frozen comes out in 2013, Moana 2016, in 2017 Beauty and the Beast said nothing substantive about monarchy (just like the live action Cinderella + Maleficent) and everyone on earth hated it, and in 2019? We got Girlboss Jasmine. Oh dear.

Girlboss Jasmine is a PRINCESS alright! She wants to be the sultan! She has no formal policy in mind, but she gestures at slogans like 'my people make the city beautiful' and does complex political maneuvering like... reading maps. But nobody really likes that either

Mulan 2020 basically offloads the princess angle entirely and everyone hates that too

ENTER RAYA.

Did you even notice Raya is a princess? Raya is a princess. She's like the combination of both Frozens and Moana, having the vaguest possible allusions to the responsibility of her position (through her father, NOT herself!!!) and then rushing off on an adventure where her royalty is utterly irrelevant (the movie would actually be better if Raya wasn't a princess- if she was a servant in the palace who didn't know exactly what happened and thought she'd been betrayed by her leaders. If her rival was the princess of her country and that betrayal was the source of her distrust, rather than a broken 30-minute friendship with a total stranger) and doesn't even provide any glamour or romance. And then the movie bombed.

I highly doubt disney will stop trying to do princesses because of this, but I do think they're officially out of ideas. The only way to REALLY justify a character being a princess going forward would be to incorporate it into the story (because nobody is interested in that 'princess as a reward' shit anymore) and there's just no way to do that without a lot of bad press. Cause once you acknowledge a character's responsibilities as a royal in the plot, you're kinda forced to portray it either positively or negatively. Negative depictions ain't marketable. Positive depictions would be pro-monarchist propaganda

You might say 'well they could just go the Mulan route, and use 'princess' as a figurative term' and they are sure as fuck trying to do that in some of their marketing initiatives, but it's just not hitting. Not like they want it to. You can really only play that game with literal babies, because any girl over the age of 10 has developed enough cognition to feel condescended to by the insistence that every woman who accomplishes something is a 'princess'

Committing to that direction would constitute an admission that disney doesn't know or care how to market female protagonists without slapping a crown on them and adding them to the monolith. That's bad press disney doesn't need.

im sure some people will be disappointed by this but i hate monarchy so

[littlemisssquiggles]

Hey squiggle meister. What're your thoughts on the flood of people on YouTube who are constantly ranting about the series. And how it's dead after Monty died, and how it's so much worst than before. Etc etc

Tobe honest with you Key, I really don't want to answer this question.I mean it's alright that you asked and I'm going to answer you however I'mgetting a strange sense of deja vu here. Wasn't it not too long ago that youasked me to give my opinion on a similar condition that was happening pre-V6?

Thiswas the issue back then and yet here we are again. You may wanna grab yourselfa snack and settle in because this is going to be one long response post. Let’s just say,this squiggle meister had a lot to let off her chest regarding this particulartopic in the FNDM:

Ihave actually had a small listen to some of these critiques on YouTube and toput it bluntly, I couldn't bring myself to finish most of them. I am a RWBY fan whoalways advocates respecting each other’s opinions regardless of whether or notwe share the same sentiments about the series. I am also a RWBY fan whounderstands that the series is not a flawless show and has suffered more than its fairshare of shortcomings throughout its last arc trilogy. 

Nevertheless, in spiteof this, I’ve also acknowledged some noteworthy improvements in the quality of the show that honestly deserves more praise.As someone who has been with this series since its humble beginnings, I have beenthere for each transformation the show has undergone and in doing so, I haveseen RWBY evolve.

Whilesome of the show’s changes haven’t entirely been welcomed by its fandom (withits main change being something completely out of the showrunners’ control) I’dbe lying if I said these changes didn’t contribute to the show’s success insome shape or form.

Speakingfor myself, initially RWBY earned my attention because, like most RWBY stans, Iwas a fan of Monty Oum before and when I discovered that he had his own seriesproduced by RoosterTeeth, I was interested. I didn’t care what the story wasabout or what it looked like. All that mattered to be me back then was that itwas something from the creative mind of Monty Oum so I expected somethingepically action-packed.

At the start, I joinedthe RWBY fandom becauseof Monty however as the seriesprogressed, my reasoning for sticking with it and staying loyal to the showtranscended my past loyalty to the franchise as a by-product of anartist/animator I admired so much.

Thisbrings me to my main point. You want my honest thoughts onthe YouTube RWBY Rants, Key? To be frank, I’m tired of it. It is exhausting listeningto the tirades of these proclaimed RWBY YouTube reviewers who do nothing butgripe and express their disdain for everything the show does wrong according totheir standards. I am so fed up of seeing this happen time and time again.

Andwhat’s sad is that I don’t think part of this is even due to the show or theCRWBY’s fault. Do you know you are more likely to find a video shitting on RWBYas opposed to one that genuinely outlines its positive elements or at leastpresents a fair and just constructive argument of the good and bad of the show?Do you know how many RWBY hate videos the YouTube algorithm has recommended to mesince V6 concluded? It’s ridiculous.

ButI also know I can’t do anything to stop it. So long as RWBY exists, there willalways be these so-called ---I guess we can call them the ‘hate parade’ type of fans who wait like vultures to a carcass to pick apartthe show whenever a new season comes out.

Anddo you know what the sadder part about watching these videos is?

Thesevideos try to give the allusion thatthey are coming from a practical standpoint---as if the things they’repointing out in their reviews are genuine problems with theshow and that their personal advice to the showrunners are valid enough torectify these problems they indicated about RWBY.

Herein, lies my personal peeve with these types of reviews. The best kind of criticto me is one who can point out a flaw in something, justify why they believesaid thing is a clear flaw and then use their own understanding to outlinetheir concept for a possible solution to that flaw that they respectfully leaveopen to the creators of said property to take their advice or not.

However,this is not the case with these YouTube RWBY Rants; at least from the few I’veviewed. I’ll admit, there are some genuinely good RWBY Reviewers on YouTube. Ofthe top of my head, Thatkaitodan, MurderofBirds are two and believeit or not, I actually like some of EruptionFang’s reviews from time to time. Imay not always agree 100% with everything he says in his breakdowns but in myopinion, I can’t get too mad at the things he says in his reviews/video essaysbecause he’s able to justify it in a manner that I’m able to see where he’scoming from. Even if that justification comes from a place of unbridled rage.Referring to EF, I know he’s been receiving flak from FNDM members regardinghis recent views on Adam’s conclusion and Bumblebee; however if I’m beingcompletely honest here, I feel some of that bashing is unwarranted.

Inall fairness to EF, at least I’m able stomach his opinions a lot better than thatof other RWBY Youtubers. As I said, EF is able to properly defend his pointswell enough for me to grasp the validity of his statements which is the least Ican say for some of the others I’ve listened to.

Oftenat times, on the adverse side of RWBY YouTube, I find myself listening toYoutubers who spend more time outright bashing everypersonal gripe they have with the show as opposed to presenting a good argumentthan gives hindsight to why these problems are such an issue to them. 

Theworst kind are the ones where this Youtubers point out flaws in the show andtry to give solutions to what the showrunners can do to fix these problems. Butmost of the time it’s done so rudely that it comes off more obnoxious thanhelpful. As if these Youtubers are proclaiming to know and understand moreabout the animation production process than the actual people running the showwho have the qualifications and past industry experience

I’llgive you two examples. Not naming names but I recently watched two videos fromtwo RWBY Youtubers---one critiquing the shows character designs while anotherwas a Youtuber’s final video explaining why they were quitting the RWBY FNDMfor good.

 Inthe characterdesign critique, the individualexpressed their disappointment in the recent designs for the RWBY girls and thevillains as of the Mistral Arc. They then proceeded to offer their own tips for how the show could have helped to spruce up someof these designs. However rather than attempting to make their own alternatedesigns to the character outfits, this Youtuber just slapped some rather poorlylaid out flat base colours on top of screenshots of the characters in question.Which from a digital art perspective is…admittedly…lazy.

Iunderstand that not everyone in the world is a designer, much less is a characterdesigner or at least knows how to draw. However…if that is the case then whyare you, as the individual who clearly doesn’t appear to have the design skills,commenting on the work of a studio with a full production team of artists whodo have those required skills and experience and can probably rationalize theirreasons for going with the final designs presented in the show. You get whatI’m saying?

Ifone is going to critique the show’s overall character design then the least youcan do is make the effort to back up your claims. Illustrate your own designsfor RWBY character outfits. Create a mock-up 2D/3D screenshot illustration withproper lighting and atmosphere to see how your design ideas holds up againstthose elements of a scene and then compare that to the actual show’s productionwork. This reviewer didn’t even bother to attempt to maketheir own original designs or even redraw the current designs in their ownstyle and test out their suggested colourpalettes to see if it would fit with the overall design aesthetic of thecharacter.

Youmight be asking now: But Squiggles are you saying I need to know how to draw tocomment about RWBY?

To which I say: No.Being an artist is not a requirement that you as a fan need to really have inorder to comment about something you love. HOWEVER, if you are the type of individualwho has the massive chops to try and dictate a production studio with a team ofeducated and/or industry seasoned artists on how they should handle designingtheir characters without you yourself having the design knowledge to supportyour critiques then… you wonder why the CRWBY often get upset with these typesof fans and don’t take their comments seriously?

Contraryto what others might say, I am not a believer that RWBY is dictated by thedesires of its fandom community. That’s a comment I’ve been hearing buzzingabout since V6 ironically in the face of the recent hate crowd to gather fromwhat transpired with the Bumblebee pairing in the recent season.

Iunderstand that there are fans making the argument that the showrunners onlymade this pairing canon because its popular with its shipping community. Thesame can be said about Neo’s return to become Cinder’s protégé.

Admittedlywhile I might find the CRWBY’s decisions to be questionable at times, this still doesn’t prove that they are run by theirFNDM. If something happens in the show, it’s because it’s something theshowrunners and has wanted to do for some time and picked that current volumeto do so. The mere fact that that thing just so happened to correlate withsomething the fans wanted to see is just a matter of coincidence.

Thatbeing said, I will admit that I’ve noticed one or two members of the CRWBY castwho are guilty of encouraging certain ideas without the show itself officially confirming it in its narrative as yet.

In light of that, Iwill admit this. Regardless of whether or not you as a member of the CRWBY teamsupport a particular ship with all your heart, if other fandoms have taught meanything is that as a cast member you should NEVER encourage anything within yourown fan community. It never ends well and I’m seeing this repeated in RWBY. Butthis is not what I’m here to talk about right now. Moving on.

Inrespect to the video from the individual who was leaving the FNDM, I actually didn’tfinish watching their video because the instant they mentioned Monty Oum and their disdain for the CRWBY not living up to hislegacy and all that stuff, I couldn’t.

Ahyes, the classic ‘RWBY Animation hasn’t been the best since Monty passed away and the RWBYAnimation team are terrible because they can’t replicate Monty’s animation’ debate.How many times is this dead horse going to be beaten?  According to this RWBY Youtuber, ‘replicatingMonty’s style of animation is easy andit is appalling the RWBY Animation Team can’t replicate Monty’s style afterfour seasons’.

Thiscomment not only annoyed me as a fan but also as someone who has studiedanimation before. Again, how many times will this poor dead horse be dug up tobe bludgeoned?  Will these fans everallow Monty’s name to rest peacefully without bringing it up to tarnish theefforts made by the CRWBY to finish the story he started with them?

Iget it. MontyOum was a good animator.He wasn’t the best animator. He wasn’t some genius animation prodigy. He was a creative mind who had his own way of thinking and doing things andfrom that, he established a style about hisanimation that shined through his work. If you were to show me an animatedpiece done by Monty and the same piece animated by another person, I caninstantly tell you which one is Monty’s because Monty had his own style.

That’sthe appeal of Monty’s work, on my opinion. That’s what he became known for by hisfans. However, even though Monty was great at animating fight scenes, his way---hisstyle is NOT the only wayto animate a fight.

Recently,I took the time to go back and count the number of fights that happened overthe volumes. I did this because as of V6, I couldn’t help but feel as if theCRWBY might be shying away including moments where the characters areactually engaged in combat. I omitted the character shorts because onemandatory element of the Character Shorts is a fight scene. I just wanted tohighlight the individual seasons alone.  

Someof this numbers might be a little iffy depending on what I counted as a fight,but here’s what I gathered.

THE VALE TRILOGY

RWBY V1C1:2C2:0C3:0C4:0C5:0C6:3C7:0C8:2C9:0C10:1C11:1C12:0C13:0C14:1C15:0C16:2

Totalfights = 12 Fights

RWBY V2:C1:1C2:0C3:0C4:1C5:3C6:0C7:1C8:0C9:4C10:0C11:4C12:4

TotalFights= 18 Fights

RWBY V3:C1:1C2:2C3:1C4:1C5:2C6:1C7:1C8:0C9:1C10:2C11:2C12:2

TotalFights = 16 Fights  

THE MISTRALTRILOGY

RWBY V4:C1:1C2:0C3:1C4:0C5:0C6:1C7:1C8:0C9:2C10:0C11:0C12:1 

TotalFights = 7 Fights

RWBY V5C1:0C2:1C3:0C4:2C5:0C6:0C7:0C8:0C9:1C10:3C11:5C12:1C13:1C14:0

TotalFights = 14 Fights

RWBY V6:C1:3C2:0C3:0C4:0C5:1C6:0C7:1C8:0C9:0C10:1C11:3C12:1C13:0

 TotalFights = 10 Fights

Why I bring this upis throughout V4 and V6’s runtime I’ve seen one or two all-stars inthe new CRWBY animation team. While not all the fight scenes from the MistralArc were the best, there were definitely some good ones that I stood out to me.

OneV4 fight that keeps being overly praised is the Tyrian vs. Qrow dual. Many fanstend to vouch that fight as the best fight of V4. The only reason that fight isso popular is because it was one of the more important fights of thatrespective season.

However,I’m being completely honest, the Qrow vs. Tyrian one on one was good but itwasn’t the only good fight of V4.

PersonallyI took enjoyment in the small sparring match between Yang and Tai Yang.Believe it or not, I felt like that moment, though small, was well animated andI’d actually give props to the animator behind that small scene. There was a nicesense of rhythm to that small fight that I quite liked.

Notmany folks will agree with little ole me regarding that scene but this just goesto show, we all have our own personal preferences with what we consider to be agood fight sequence vs a not so good one.

Often at times, Ifeel really sorry for the series animators cherry picked to handle the combatmoments for the current seasons because I feel like those animators suffer the most pressure and scrutiny in the eyes of the FNDM. I feel like some FNDM members are sofocused on nagging atthe current CRWBY to capture Monty’s old style of animating fights that they aren’t really giving these new animatorswith their own styles a fair chance toshine outside of Monty’s shadow.

Again.I get it. RWBY was Monty’s brainchild. He’s the creator andno matter how far the current CRWBY takes the series, he will always becredited as its creator.

HoweverRWBY has come a long way since Monty’s days. The show haschanged.The overall look and visual style of the series has changed.Even the production pipeline and the software used to animate the series has changed.The CRWBY hasgrown allowing a greater mix of artistslending their talents to breathe life into the series.

Butwhat seems to kind of still be stuck in the past are some members of the FNDMcommunity. The ones who only watch the show because they are waiting to see thecurrent RWBY recapture that essence of Monty thatthey claimed the show lost after he died.

RWBY is dead after Monty passed away? In some ways, this isboth true��and false. The truth is that RWBY did die. The old style that the show was being produced on was laid to restafter its creator unfortunately passed. The false is that RWBY didn’t end withMonty because it’s being continued in its current new style by the people whohelped bring it to life in the first place alongside Monty. The same people whoare diligently carrying on Monty’s project in his place. RWBY isn’t dead. It’sstill breathing. Still going. Because a story still needs to be told.

Ratherthan being judged for how well they can interpret a good fight sequence, theseanimators are judged for how well they can replicate Monty’s style. And when theseanimators don’t live up to that expectation, that’s when the shit storm begins.I myself have been found guilty of comparing the past animation to the present.However now I realized that I was wrong in doing that.

Ithink it’s high time some of these fans let go of the past and accept that theaction fight scenes of RWBY are never going to reflect Monty’s style anymore.

Montyis unfortunately not around to guide the current team with this. And they are doingtheir best to find their own style. To some extent, they found it in V6 becausethe fights in this last season were a tremendous improvement from V4 and V5.

Ifeel like there are some genuinely talented animators workingnow on RWBY who know how to create and sell a great fight and if left to theirown devices, they could really dazzle the audience with their own way of doingthings. I feel like since V4, the CRWBY have been experimenting with how they craftout their fights especially in the new Maya pipeline but it wasn’t until V6where I feel they finally found their footing again.

I think most fanscould agree that the fights in V6 were much better compared to theirpredecessors. One of the best one on one fights was the Neo vs Cinder clash. Whoever was the animator responsible for thatscene should honestly be given more opportunities like thatwhere their work can shine through because that fight was well done. Thesame can be said for the Maria vs. Tok oneon one fight despite how short it was. But the thing is, none of those fightsfelt like Monty’s style to me. It didn’t feel like someone was trying to copyMonty but rather it was someone who probably took a little inspiration Monty’soriginal work and the rest was them bringing their own unique spin to it.

Ifthe CRWBY have been trying to replicatethat Monty style in their fights for the past arc then I’m starting to thinkthat that is what’s been holding them back ratherthan aiding them to move forward.

Thisis why I find the whole point about replicating Monty’s style being easy to be ludicrous. Replicating someone else’s style,depending on the medium is not something you can just do on a fly. It’s noteven something you can perfect in a matter of years. It’s something that takes adeep understanding of the art form you’re using (in this case being animation),time, strict discipline and most importantly of all, guidance and critique from theperson who’s style your copying or someone else who is a master of said style and/orhas a great understanding of it themselves.

That’swhy sometimes you might hear behind the scenes tales about animation studiostaking sometime during their production pipeline to train theiranimators on the style or quality of animation they are trying to emulate in acurrent project. DidMonty do that with the CRWBY? Did Montyget the chance to pass his knowledge and technique onto otheranimators? Did Monty even get to see his story grow to what it is now?

Sadly,no.  Monty was a creator who didn’t evenlive long enough to see his own idea flourish for the six seasons it’s beenrunning; now moving onto its seventh season. As far as I know, Monty passedaway as early as V2. Most people don’t even get the chance to see their ideascome to life but Monty was among those fortunate few who was given the shot tomake his idea a reality.

RoosterTeethgave Monty that chance after he worked with them on some of their otherprojects like RvB. He had made himself a household name within their companyand among that, he had made friends and had formed an in-house family with thecolleagues he worked with both on RvB and RWBY.

Saywhat you will about RoosterTeeth and the CRWBY. The original CRWBY who workedwith Monty between V1 and V2 were the people who knew Montythe most. They were his friends. His family. This is all the more reason why itdoesn’t give us, as fans looking in from the outside, the right to use Monty’sname to disrespect the people who knew him better.

Imay not always like what the CRWBY Writers do with the story but I respect themboth as writers. I respect Miles and Kerry because they are the showrunners. RWBY’s plotstarted with Monty, Miles and Kerry.

TheRWBY hate parade need to stop acting as if RWBY was made by Monty alone.Monty did not make RWBY by himself. Shit, he didn’t even create the plot byhimself.

Montyis credited as its creator because RWBY was his brain child and he will foreverbe remembered as the man who conceptualized this idea. But Monty did not writethe story of RWBY himself. He wrote this story with Miles and Kerry. 

Whatfolks seems to be misunderstanding or downrightneglecting is that Miles and Kerryhave been with RWBY since its start. They are the two people who worked withMonty in developing the story of RWBY

Itis depressing that Monty only got to live long enough to see two seasons of hisbrainchild come to life.

Insteadof honouring Monty’s legacy by showing support to the people who worked with himto make RWBY happen, folks instead use Monty’s name to slander the CRWBY.

Tothe people who are guilty of this, how can you call yourself a fan? Howcan you call yourself decent human beings witha legit conscience by using a dead man’s name to disrespect the people who werehis colleagues and friends just because you were displeased with something theychose for the show? How is mouthing off the CRWBY and claiming that Montywouldn’t have consented to the direction they’re taking RWBY in a definition ofyour loyalty to Monty?

Howwould you know what Monty would have consented to? How would you know whatMonty would have wanted in general?

Didyou know him personally? I doubt any of you did. So why claim that in yourhateful comments?

RWBYis not the Monty Oum show. I've mentioned this before and I will say it again. RWBY is acollaborative effort. Monty may have conceived RWBY on his own buthe birthed this series through cooperation with RoosterTeeth and the talentedpeople who formed the creative team that made this show with him.

Andit’s those same people who are busting their asses volume after volume to keepthe show going. The CRWBY could have easily cancelled RWBYafter V2. It’s not the first time RoosterTeeth has cancelled a series undertheir name. They could have hung up the towel after V2 and called it quits. Butthey didn’t because they wanted tocontinue the show. They wanted to keep moving forward and finish the story theymade together with their friend Monty.

RWBY’sproduction takes time,thought, passion and effort. If the RWBY YouTube Critics community wishto be the type of people who want to tell the showrunners how to properlyhandle their IP, then at least back up your points with the same level of time,thought, passion and effort that is put into the show. 

Andbefore anyone jumps at me and is all like, Squiggles, do you know how long it takes to makea YouTube video essay on my own time? To which I answer with, do you know howlong it takes to produce a full season of an animated production on a studiobudget and a strict deadline within a studio that is juggling multiple IPs?

Anyone can point out a flaw insomething or rather what they perceive to be a flaw in something. But it takes morework to point out that flaw, justify why it’s a flaw by your standards and thentake the time to suggest how it could be improved while throwing in your own workto help boast your claims. But no RWBY Youtuber Critics, at least from the onesI’ve seen, wants to do that. They just want to run their mouths and what’sunfortunate is that they will gather an audience of individuals who do the samewhen it comes to the series.

It’salright if you give your opinion but where it crosses a line is when a fantries to tell the showrunners how they should run their show. It’s even worsewhen they try to do it WITHOUT backing up their claims. You want to downplaythe effort and thought that someone else made without producing your own toargue against theirs?

You want totell the CRWBY how they should write the show? Where are your own retellingsof the show? Where are your own plot breakdowns? Your own scripts possibly accompaniedby storyboards and/or animatics to give others a taste of how your ideas wouldplay out?

You want totell the CRWBY that their character designs are terrible and need rework? Where your own conceptsheets containing dozens about dozens of drafts of redesigns that could betaken?

You want totell the CRWBY that their animation is terrible, that animating like Monty iseasy and the animation of CRWBY would look 100x better if they did x, y, z and123?

WellSkippy, why don’t you prove it? Where is your rendered animation that youpersonally modelled, rigged, textured and animated in your own spare time to backup your proclaimed assessments.

Youmight be telling yourselves, Squiggles why do all of that? That sounds like a whole lotof extra work just to prove points for a critique where I’m trying to tell theCRWBY what to do?

Towhich my response will be, EXACTLY.

Ifthe RWBY Hate Parade wish to make a mockery of the extra efforts the CRWBYmembers put into RWBY, then where is their extra effort? If they at least dothat then maybe I can respect them a little more as people who know whatthey’re talking about because they have the skills and knowledge to back uptheir arguments. 

But how am I as the outsider listening in on some of theseYouTube rants supposed to take any of these people seriously when all they’redoing is making lengthy diatribes slandering the work of others and trying topass off as someone who knows more about animation and how it’s done thansomeone who does.

Dothese fans believe that makes them seem witty?It doesn’t. It makes them seem very disrespectful.

Idon’t understand the fans that are like this and I’m not sure if I want tounderstand. I don’t even wish to discuss them furthermore because at the end ofthe day, I can’t speak for these fans. I can only speak for myself and I knowwhere I stand as a fan of RWBY. If there is one advice I can give to my fellow FNDMfam is that weneed to stop drawing attention to the hate parade. Too often do Ihear more about the negative side of the RWBY community and their opinions ofthe series than the actual good that show and its FNDM has spawned. 

Weas the people who still love RWBY and are willing to accept and stand by it andits showrunners, flaws and all, need to become more vocal aboutshedding light on the positives of RWBY

Eitherthat or just ignorethe haters. Seriously, we need to stop giving these guys anaudience. Similar to how the RWBY Hate Parade spend their time mostly pointingout the negative in the show, we the FNDM often at times draw too much attentionto these folks.

Ina sad way, we’re kind of sending traffic over to them. Giving them moreattention that they don’t deserve.

Thesetypes of fans can talk but we don’t need to listen to them. Because for all theflak they give the series and its showrunners, the RWBY train is still moving;strong and unaffected.

Why?Because I’d like to believe the CRWBY don’t pay attention to the hate paradebut more focus on what they wish to do with the series while looking out to thesmiling fans who help spread good word about their show. And really, isn’t thegood still that’s very much there all that really matters? 

Soto conclude finally, this answer took me way too long to write. Sorry to haveyou wait so long Key. This answer took me some time to put together. Apologiesif it’s a very long-winded answer. I really don’t like discussing any negativestuff in the FNDM. 

I acknowledge that it exists and it’s pretty much alwaysgoing to be there but that doesn’t mean I should give it any attention. But forwhat it’s worth, I hope I said enough to make my full peace with this topic.Cheerios!

~LittleMissSquiggles(2019)

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 2: The VR Zone Has a Hell Ton of Trees

Alright guys I am regretting the hell out of this teriyaki ramen bowl I just ate, so it’s a better time than ever to go back into this VR arc. Now that the Big 5 have made their speech, all of them quite fat and one with a cane although he doesn’t even have a body anymore, they are ready to send everyone down a series of...plot-shaped holes.

Like they were JUST in some sort of tropic zone, to go back to here and then go somewhere else and so like--this is still VR I think? Like I’m assuming they went VR the moment they entered this room but it is quite vague at what point they were officially in VR. Was it when their vision went fwisssh and everyone split into RGB layers or was it that they got knocked out with gas quite a long time ago and were just unaware that it happened? Probably a bunch of these things.

With this announcement we find out that everyone--and I mean everyone--has to play cards now, although I’m pretty sure half of them have duel disks and the other’s are like...not equipped? I mean it’s VR, so hypothetically no one at all needs a duel disk anymore but you gotta sell toys, so no matter what, Yugi’s going to be lugging this heavy sharp thing on his wrist, even when he knows he will soon be shot down a wacky hole.

The title of last episode, ps was “VR Nightmare,” but like, it’s actually fairly pleasant, compared to the blimp hell we were dealing with just a few episodes back. I mean I guess people are actively trying to kill us here but when are they not?

The audacity of this show. Every state in the US has huge ass fake castles in it leftover from the Rockefeller era. Where else are our Moms supposed to drag us on Day Trips so we can get our history credit for Girl Scouts?

Americans are hella good at creating fake historical sites--all you need is a 50+ year old house and some turret work possibly made by a reasonably well known architect and it’s like “yeah that’s a good enough castle for me! Can we say it’s haunted, too? It’s hella haunted! Come to my castle B+B!”

(read more under the cut)

Tea landed in some concept art that kind of looks like the underside of a mushroom. I dunno how I’d classify this rock structure.

And then Kaiba landed in his worst nightmare which was being in a normal park with one single straight road but somehow still completely lost. At least Mokuba managed to fall into the same hole as his brother to ensure that Seto wouldn't be lost for like the rest of this arc. Which was actually kind of an unintentionally hilarious animation.

*rare shot of the Kaibas actually taking a break*

Man, this is the closest they’ve gotten to a real hug in kind of a while. Like when was the last time these bros hugged? Pegasus’ castle?

Meanwhile, Noah is admiring his work from this throne room and it would be a whole lot more intimidating if he wasn’t in calf-high black socks.

His outfit is like a white school uniform so what gives with the black socks? Like of all the things to complain about on Yugioh (especially since I see Yugi’s hair looking right at me in the next cap) those socks though. Those are pretty inappropriate with this outfit, Noah. Especially matched with this God Throne you’ve got going on. Did not see socks like that matched with a chair like this.

Meanwhile Yugi is all by himself but that doesn’t matter at all because he is 2 (3) people. This strategy to isolate everyone only really worked on Serenity and Joey, TBH, since Tea is also accompanied by slightlylessevil!Marik (who hasn’t really said anything since the VR started).

I knew Bakura would be out for a while, but I didn’t realize it meant everyone else wasn’t even going to once acknowledge it, it is baffling. I mean I get they’re super distracted right now but your friend is DEAD.

Honestly I would not mind if the big 5 succeeded and we had to see some old men try and work with Yugi’s hair and alt rock clothing, deal with Pharaoh sassing them from a brain labyrinth, go to Yugi’s school where people get savagely beat up like every other day, deal with Bakura and Marik trying to body snatch and other magic assholery during class breaks, and through all that watching the Big 5 attempt to take over the world with their megacorp that no longer sells guns but actually sells like...children’s entertainment supplies which include the dueling roombas from S1. How on Earth do they actually think that getting a body would help them at this point? They would be Yugi Muto and that is the last face anyone would ever take seriously.

Pharaoh pops up and is like “I guess we’re doing this right now? Really wish we weren’t doing this right now.”

Anyway, because they don’t physically exist in this digital world, neither do God Cards, or any other card in their deck. So, now they have to make new decks out of a pool. Very convenient for the writing team, bad news for Kaiba’s intense and vaguely romantic relationship with his Blue Eyes. Really glad we spent a full season talking about how much these cards meant to all these people, from the magicians, to Joey’s Red Eyes, and then that one card that was Mako Tsunami’s Dad or something--really glad we learned all of that to just completely erase it this arc.

I sounded sarcastic just now, I actually wasn’t for once, I am so glad to just purge my mind of all those card memories for a little while. Just allow myself to forget. Ah. My mind is already so much clearer. It feels so good. I am very much ok with this soft reset, I kinda needed it.

Since Yugi is supposed to choose a Deck Master from his set of cards for this particular type of duel monsters duel, he goes right for the dark magician--since that’s his MO, but for some reason Kuriboh chose himself? Like this greasy thing just hopped out of the card and played himself.

Anyway Kuriboh is now their new Pikachu and well...this show has done worse cute-character-that-does-literally-nothing-else type things to me, speaking of, lets see what Serenity is up to.

This is a digital hellscape, Serenity.

Serenity, you are going to die here.

Serenity.

So because I just realized just now in Season 3 that Duke’s necklace is a hot, over designed disaster (much like Duke himself) I figured I should like...see what this necklace is supposed to look like. So I typed into Google “duke devlin necklace” and guys, turns out there is a LOT of Yugioh jewelry--and I don’t mean like fanart (which there is also a lot), I mean like officially, a lot of people in this show wear a lot of jewelry and so it was sort of hard to find a good pic of a Duke Devlin specific necklace--especially since it feels like most people just go for the dice earring because that’s way easier.

But what’s interesting about the Duke Devlin necklace, at least from my quick search, is that when we bring it to the real world, it gets a little lost, like a game of telephone.

Cuz I assumed that was a clown on his necklace--and there’s quite a few clown necklaces, but I’m also seeing skulls, I’m seeing gothic crosses, I’m seeing spikes and knives instead of crosses. Bro thought it was a flower for some reason--I kinda blew his mind just now when I pointed out it was a clown. Some people think it’s made of silver, other people think it’s sort of painted? (I assumed the cross was entirely blinged out with rhinestones--my honest assumption) No one can actually agree. Especially since Duke apparently changed his necklace for the movie. I know that because it looks a lot like the Legend of Zelda emblem, and some people had the actual Legend of Zelda emblem mis-tagged as Duke Devlin. Which sucks a whole lot for their SEO, and sucked a whole lot for me in my search to find a real actual Duke Devlin necklace.

Like, feel free to attach a link to a reply -- is there an official physical Duke Devlin necklace that Yugioh inc sells? Like I just want to know--officially--what the hell I’m looking at.

Anyway, back to the show, much like everyone else, these two are hopelessly lost.

Kaiba seems to keep forgetting that his Dad is clearly behind all this and would obviously have his old tech but like...Kaiba forgets so much I can forgive him this.

So, faced with roads that lead no where, Tristan decides to do his tried and true method of solving all of his problems.

And at the other end of the VR zone Tea is getting kidnapped after...being kidnapped by Noah while she was already kidnapped by Marik. This is three levels of kidnap, yes?

OH SHOOT IS THAT A ONCE DOOR. DID SOMEONE DO WHAT I HOPE THEY DID? OH SHOOT.

I will read their fanfiction start to end I swear to you I will do it if it exists and I will report back to you who dates Captain Hook and who is related to Henry Mills.

OMG It didn’t exist.

You have got to be kidding me.

I am beside myself, this is the only property known to man that has not been turned into a OUAT fanfiction.

Incredible.

That or I’m just really bad at searching for fanfics since I haven’t actually read any since my LiveJournal days. Like, when you’re basically immune to shipping, as I am, you just really lose the desire to read about 90% of fanfiction.

Anyway, the closest we have to a OUAT Yugioh fanfiction, to my knowledge, is that cap I made just now right there. Your welcome, Once community.

This is absolutely made of load-bearing drywall. Why do none of the sets of windows line up with each other and how many stories is this? Like 2.5? And you can stand on the roof I guess because it has handrails? It’s super weird.

Anyway, I just made a OUAT joke and maybe it’s because I knew shortly after we were gonna get--that’s right--an orphanage flashback. OUAT was basically 6 seasons of effed up orphan flashbacks so I feel pretty well prepared. Like bro was worried how I’d handle this filler but y’all, I watched the Lily arc in OUAT. I can do anything.

*slaps hands together*

Totes ready for these boys to have been given up for adoption via a magical tree and a memory curse, only to find out their real parents are 3 years younger than them because of a time loop. Make it weird, Yugioh!

Anyway, as always, if you want a link to read these from the beginning in Chrono order and without any comments and all that jazz here’s a link

[howlnikiforov]

Trespass

Chapter Three: Unfair Love

Pairing: Hyungwon x Reader

Word Count: 1995

Summary: You would think that one would be able to trust their soulmate, be able to love them unconditionally, and know them better than yourself. But that isn’t always the case. Who was H.One, and why did the universe think you could be soulmates?

WARNING: From here on out there will be strong language and violence

Trespass Masterlist

“Fuck this shit. Fuck it. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. I quit.” you exclaimed, startling Sohyun, who was sitting beside you. She looked up at you, a questioning and concerned look in her gaze. “I’m going to fail. There’s no hope. I’m done for. I’m not going to get my masters degree. I’m never-”

“Dude,” Sohyun cut you off, “chill. Listen to yourself right now. You sound like you’re going to die.”

“I am” you reply bluntly. “I have to memorize these two textbooks and finish this twenty page essay by the end of the month. Not to mention everything I have to do with my other classes, and on top of that I still have to tutor Youngjae.”

“Why are you tutoring him? He’s not even majoring in psych. He can take care of himself,” Sohyun said, to which you shrugged.

“I suppose. I don’t know, it’s fun being around him. Honestly I think the heavens messed up my soulmate. He’d be the perfect mate.”

Your friend sighed. She’s heard you say this countless times, it was starting to bother her more than she’d care to admit. She understood that for whatever reason you didn’t want your soulmate to be yours, but you could only fight fate for so long. She figured it had something to do with your danger meter. It had to be that, because you’ve never mentioned anything about meeting your one and only. Sometimes, she’d hear you crying at night because your soulmate had put themself in extreme danger, and it was hurting you.

“How about this? Sohyun began. “ This weekend, you, me, Youngjae, and Seokjin all go out to the club?”

You rolled your eyes. “Is Seokjin even into clubbing?” You asked.

She shrugged “We’ll find out. I mean, if we’re soulmates then surely he’d be able to enjoy a good club.”

You laughed, “Whatever.”

~~~

You’ve been on edge since you found out H.One was your soulmate a month ago. It’s been hard for you to concentrate on things and you’ve found yourself shaking a lot. You keep checking over your shoulder to make sure he’s not there. You could see color now. For the most part at least. The colors were dull. They weren’t exciting or vibrant like people said they’d be.

Sometimes when H.One was near, you could see the colors more clearly, but you tricked yourself into believing that it was just your brain thinking they were brighter.

You were at work when you saw him again. Sohyun had made a mistake counting his change and he had gotten extremely pissed at her. He had yelled at her as she walked away, going to the back room to cry. He was gone before you were able to give him a piece of your mind.

Sohyun had been embarrassed by the whole incident. The shop was filled with people lounging around sipping on their drinks. They all bore witness to what H.One did. The next time you saw him, you’d make him regret what he had done to Sohyun.

The two of you had decided to go to the club that night instead of the next day. Both Seokjin and Youngjae were okay with the sudden change in plans. While Sohyun dressed in a black strapless dress that barely covered her butt, you chose to be less extravagant in your choice of clothes. You donned on a simple black tank top and black skirt that went to your knees. You paired the outfit with a small, dark blue jacket. The heels you wore made you an inch taller than you normally were. It was a nice change in perspective. Seokjin came to pick you and Sohyun up. Youngjae would be meeting you there.

During the car ride, Sohyun spent her time ranting about how this frequent customer treated her. She mentioned that it was an outburst she hadn’t been expecting from him. After all, he had seemed pretty nice before. You scoffed at the idea of him being nice, but neither one of them paid attention to you.

By the time you had gotten to the club, you just wanted to drink and forget. Youngjae was waiting for you inside, awkwardly standing to the side of the dance floor. He whistled at you when he laid his eyes on you, his eyes lingering on your body. You didn’t appreciate the gesture, but you smiled nonetheless. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you uncomfortably close.

He led you to the bar, ordering shots of vodka for the entire group. You took the time to study the bartender. He seemed familiar to you somehow. His hair was white with tips dyed blue. He wore a vest that exposed the muscle in his arms and showed much of his chest. His gaze lingered on you before he turned around to grab the bottle of vodka, pouring the shots for your party. Youngjae sat on a stool and had pulled you onto his lap. You were starting to regret bringing him here, but it was too late now. You grabbed the shot glass in front of you and downed it. The burn of the alcohol felt horrible, you usually weren’t one for alcohol. You weren’t at all used to the sensations that drinking brought; you figured now was as good a time as any other to grow accustomed to the burn.

That is, until you spotted H.One staring at you from across the room. It was the first time you had seen him without his face mask on. It was strange, seeing him without it. It seemed unfair that someone so cruel, was so good looking. A rock settled in the pit of your stomach as your eyes met his.

Excusing yourself from the group, you quickly walked out of the club and into the dark night. It was stupid, you knew, but you went into the alley beside the building. You didn’t want to be out in the open streets, and you didn’t want to stray too far from where your friends were.

You were growing more paranoid the deeper you went in, regret starting to creep up your spine. H.One’s voice calling your name stopped you from turning around and heading back. You completely froze in that second, too scared to breathe or scan for a way to escape.

Then you remembered what he did to your friend and suddenly, courage from adrenaline kicked in. You whirled around to face him, slapping him the instant you saw him. His hand flew to his cheek, but before he could say anything, you went off on him. “How dare you hurt my friend! She miscounted by a cent, a cent! And yet you acted like she robbed you of a thousand dollars!”

“Are you really upset about that?” He asked.

You slapped him again in response.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been on edge lately.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse,” You spat.

Rage started to build in his eyes, causing you to backup a step.”I apologized, didn’t I? It’s not like I can tell you my whole fucking backstory!” he shouted, stepping closer to you. He towered over you, but you wouldn’t back down.

“You’re not supposed to apologize to me! I’m not the one you hurt! But then, I guess you never apologize to those you hurt, do you?” You challenged.

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “What? Do you expect me to apologize to everyone? Sorry sweetheart, can’t do that.”

He had you backed up against a wall, but you weren’t intimidated by him. “If you hurt my friend so help me, I will make you regret it.” You threatened.

“I’d like to see you try.” he challenged.

You stared up at him, trying to let your glare tell him you weren’t playing any games. The two of you stood there, neither one backing down for what felt like eternity.

His hands swiftly came up to your face, cupping your cheeks. His eyes were searching yours, and you made sure he knew how much you despised him. “Fuck off.” You pushed him back, starting to walk away when you felt him grab your wrist. He pushed you back against the wall.

“Please, listen to me.” He said, keeping his hold on you strong. You struggled against his grip, refusing to give him a chance to talk.

“No.” You replied as you fought him.

“Please.” he whispered the word, sounding desperate, something you’d never expected from him. That made you pause in your struggle. He seemed to take this as a sign that you would listen. “Y/N..I-” he stopped, seeming to search for the words. “You drive me absolutely crazy, do you know that? Absolutely crazy.” he sighed, taking a deep breath, “I don’t know what to do with myself around you. Somehow you only ever see my bad side.” At that you scoffed.

“I promise you I’m not the kind of man you think I am. Not really. There is so much you don’t know about me. You think you know everything, but you don’t. You only know a fraction. Y/N...gosh...you make me wish I could be a better man. The moment you stepped in front of Youngjae and took Sunshine’s blow for him, I knew you were the one. It’s been months since then. Please...please just give me a chance. I can prove to you that I’m not such a shitty person.”

His words took you by surprise. Could you give him a chance? Not likely. He was your soulmate, but who said you had to acknowledge that? He was searching your face for any immediate rejection, and when he didn’t see any, he leaned down, bringing his face inches from yours.

You were beginning to anticipate his next move, wondering what he was going to do. Then you remembered who he was. Trouble. You pushed him off, disgust written all over your face. “I will never give you a chance. You’re a despicable person H.One. I hate that I got you as my soulmate. The last thing I want to do is associate myself with someone like you. You have no idea how much I despise the fact that we are soulmates.” You sneered.

He remained still and expressionless, unable to react after your harsh words. He helplessly watched as you walked away, out of the alley.

Your steps were quick. Why did you have to get stuck with such a horrible person? What did you do to deserve such a cruel fate? You only made it about a block away before you collapsed in tears. Why was fate so cruel to you?

You thought you heard glass break, but you couldn’t be bothered enough to come out of your misery. Footsteps soon followed the sound of breaking glass, coming closer and closer. You slowly started to realize that you were in danger, that you should get out of there, but you limbs didn’t want to cooperate. You could see a shadow now, coming closer and closer until someone rounded the corner.

H.One wasn’t sure how long he stood in that alley. It could’ve been minutes or hours. He hadn’t expected to hear such severe words from you. It utterly shattered his heart. He knew his lifestyle wasn’t suitable, but others around him were still able to bond with their soulmate. So why couldn’t he?. He didn’t know what to do. Should he cry? Or should he break something? He was pulled from his thoughts by an abrupt, menacing throb in his arm. His danger meter was dangerously high. That could only mean one thing; he needed to get to you, and fast. His legs moved at an impossible speed as he bolted out of the alley, hoping he’d be able to get to you in time. This was no neighborhood to be alone in at night.

[glassbangtan]

Fight {Kim Seokjin}

Words: 3160

   Notes: we love and respect Kim Seokjin in this household.

   Summary: After getting in a fight with a strange girl from a different school, Seokjin takes care of your injuries and you both start to talk.

   Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

   Warning: Mild angst, fluff.

You didn’t initiate it. Fights weren’t your thing – especially fights with girls who you knew simply wanted a reaction out of you, but there were some things that were difficult to ignore.

   High school was full of people who thought they were better than everybody else. It was part of the system. Some people got good grades, or were better at sports than other people. Some people played musical instruments or were on the cheerleading squad. Some people lived their life in the library.

   And then some people were like you and Seokjin – lived your lives in the cafeteria, silently critiquing every bit of food that came through the kitchen.

   It was your daily routine. Classes would flood your schedule up until lunch time, where you would finally meet up with Jin outside of the cafeteria before continuing to eat as much as your hands could grab. You complained about the state of the schools food, but still insisted on eating every last crumb you were given.

   But today was strange. You and Jin had met up, as you always did, and were busy eating. The chatter was loud today, another school sharing the cafeteria due to a hockey game which was going to be played in the next hour or so. People in unfamiliar uniforms were walking back and forth, trying their hardest to find seats but nobody would move. Your school was famous for it’s lack of nice people.

    “We are so lucky we got our seats early,” Jin commented as the two of you looked at the confused guests who all stood above you with trays in their hands, not entirely sure what to do with themselves.

   “God, they all look like lost puppies. I’m surprised none of them have flirted with you yet.”

   Jin scoffed, looking at you over the top of his carton of milk. “Me?”

   “Don’t act surprised,” you giggled, before putting on a high voice and waving your hands around. “'Oh, Jin! Your hair looks immaculate today. What shampoo do you use? Oh, Seokjin! My mother’s inviting you over for dinner even though I haven’t spoken two words to you since freshman-”

   “Oh my God, Y/N, that was one time, and I cancelled.”

   “She still asked you to have dinner with her family,” you laughed, slapping your hand against the table. Jin rolled his eyes, stuffing a lettuce wrap in his mouth and chewing on it, going back to his people watching.

    That was when it happened. You weren’t entirely sure if you’d jinxed yourself, or if this was just bad karma for you making fun of a girl you barely knew, but it happened fast and it was almost out of a movie. The girl had sat down beside Jin in seconds, a petite girl with long black hair and a pointed chin.

   You looked at her, Jin yelping as the table shifted under her force.

   “This was a dare,” she said, too quick for you to pick up on the vital words. Her fingers reached out, snatched Jin’s chin and jerked his lips towards hers. You watched on in shock, completely unable to move as Jin yelled, flapping his hands against the girls arms, trying to shove her off but she barely moved. It was almost like this innocent dare had turned her, and she was melting into Jin’s lips with each passing second.

   You heard the other girls laughing and hooting behind you, but the only thing you could see was the way Seokjin clearly didn’t want it. He tried to shove her hands back, but she was strong and was keeping his face pressed between her fingertips.

   It was whenever you swear you heard Jin let out a choked cry for help that you finally stood up, throwing yourself across the table and grabbing the girl by the collar of her PE kit. Jin yelled as soon as his lips were free, moving out of the way to get his lips wiped and get himself as far from the unknown girl as possible.

   Your anger was too much, bubbling up in your system way before you could even think of getting it under control. The girl exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at you but you didn’t let her say anything before you swung your first and hit her in the jaw, sending her slumping over the table. Her forearms knocked against Jin’s tray of unfinished food, sending it splattering down her jersey. She screeched, looking down at herself and it is only then do you realise what you had just done.

   Horror overtook the anger. You looked down at your bloodied hands, your knuckles splitting from the force even though you were almost positive at the time that the hit wasn’t enough. You could hear Jin yelling in the background. You turned to look at him, your eyes wide and begging for help, but you didn’t get any of that before your arms were grabbed by another one of the girls, trapping you before you can make a quick escape.

   “Shit!” you cursed, kicking your legs up because you knew this was your fault. You had lost yourself to anger for a moment, and now it was coming back to bite you in the ass. “I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me! Please don’t-”

   Your cries for help were cut off by a kick being sent to your stomach. A howl erupted from the students in the cafeteria, Jin yelling and trying his hardest to fight his way through the forming crowd, but he had been pushed to the back by the wave of curious kids who wanted to see this fight unfold.

   Tears stung your eyes at the sudden contact, the air being shoved from your lungs. You’d barely recovered before another punch was being sent to your face, blood splattering from your nose and staining your cheeks, and after that there was no going back. Punches were being sent left, right and centre, most you barely had time to acknowledge before the next one was being thrown.

   You felt so weak, and so stupid. You had been raised on the fact that violence was never the answer. You ate your food in peace and let others do whatever they wanted to do – it was their bad decisions, not yours. But seeing Jin look so helpless, so scared at this strange woman coming up and kissing him, it was like something had popped inside of your brain – something you couldn’t help but act upon.

   A teacher didn’t make it to the scene quick enough. As soon as the girls holding you were pulled away, you fell to the floor, attempting to grip onto the table but failing miserably. Your elbow shattered against the cafeteria floor, blood spilling from your mouth where your teeth had been punched, your eye throbbing and your body unresponsive. You wanted to groan and scream out in the pain that was coursing through you, but nothing was working. Your brain was working too hard on trying to forget what had just happened.

   You felt Jin’s presence by your side as the crowd started to scatter, nobody wanting to be caught dead watching a fight in the middle of the cafeteria.

  “Oh God, this is bad,” Jin repeated over and over again. A teacher was on your left, asking you generic questions that you couldn’t concentrate on. Jin’s hand was roaming your stomach, lifting your shirt up to examine the bruise left on your cold skin; that was the only thing your brain seemed to take interest in.

   “Why would you do that?” Jin whispered, not trying to overtake the teacher with his panic. “Shit, shit, shit. We have to get her to a hospital, right? This – This isn’t right, is it?”

   The teacher said something, but your brain didn’t pick up on it. You grunted and pushed yourself up, your elbow cracking and it is only then do you feel the blood sticking your shirt to your wounded skin. The fall had clearly broken skin on your elbow, leaving your shirt drenched in a thin layer of blood.

   “I’m fine,” you managed to grumble out, but the spurts of blood that run down your chin say otherwise. Jin winced at the sight of it, reaching down to cradle your neck, not letting you lower yourself onto the floor like you so desperately wanted to. “I just – I just need a nap.”

   “What hurts?” Jin asked, ignoring your delirious comments about sleep.

   “My – My head. My mouth. My stomach. My – my body. My dignity.”

   “Y/N, this isn’t time for your sarcastic bullshit,” Jin hissed, before nodding an apology to the confused teacher who suddenly didn’t seem to know what to do. “What about first aid?”

   “First aid sounds spicy,” you grumbled. Jin rolled his eyes, and in seconds you were scooped up in his strong arms, bridal style. He didn’t even get out of the cafeteria before your vision turned blurry and your head slumped against his unusually broad shoulders.

    A soft, pleasant humming sound was what drew you out of unconsciousness after a little while. You knew you hadn’t been out for long, your inner clock telling you that you could sleep a little bit more, that you deserved the rest, but your eyes didn’t want to close after they caught a glimpse of Seokjin standing in your kitchen, swaying his hips to a soft beat as he cooked food – his natural habitat, you often joked.

   You weren’t sure who had let you go home, or who had allowed Jin to go with you, but you were thankful for whoever it was. You leaned your head over the side of the sofa now, watching your best friend swaying to the sound of music that he had playing softly from the kitchen radio. He had changed into a black baseball shirt with white sleeves, a pair of jeans and an apron placed over the entire outfit, though that didn’t stop him from getting a stain on the top of his shirt. You watched him with a tired smile on your face, tracing his every move as he danced.

    He turned around at last, his eyes flicking over to you. His jaw dropped open almost as soon as he saw you were awake, but he didn’t make any attempt to move towards you. Instead, he let his features mould into one of disappointment, his eyebrows knitting together and a pout forming on his mouth.

   “I knew you were irresponsible, but I honestly didn’t take you as downright stupid,” is the first thing he said. You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself up into a sitting position. Your left eye was swollen shut and there was still dried blood smudging your bottom lip and your knuckles had been bandaged up, though you didn’t feel much of anything.

   “I’m sorry.” Your voice came out hoarse. Seokjin, despite his disappointed look, still didn’t waste a second in walking over to you with a glass of water which you downed in seconds.

   Jin took a seat on the coffee table in front of you, never taking his eyes off of you as you spoke.

   “I saw her kiss you and I saw how uncomfortable you were, and I just kind of lost it. As soon as I pulled away, I knew I’d fucked up.” You looked down at your bruised knuckles and shook your head. “It’s not my hottest moment. First fight and I end up passing out.”

   “I’m older than you and I’ve never gotten into a fight,” Jin said, ducking his head down so your eyes meet his. “Jesus, Y/N. She was a damn hockey player. You’re you.”

   “I’m fine.”

   “You passed out on my shoulder.”

  “Yeah, well, you;re welcome. I didn’t die.”

   Jin blanked, narrowing his eyes at you. Usually, your words would make him laugh that famous windsheid-like laugh you so adored, but at this very moment, he doesn’t seem interested in making jokes. No dad jokes, no sarcasm. He seemed deadly serious for once.

   “Do you know how bad I would have felt if she’d have done something worse?” Jin said, taking you by surprise. You looked up at him, raising a brow as you took another sip of your water. “Y/N, she knocked you out because you stood up for me. Me. Kim Seokjin. Worldwide handsome. I can sort myself out.

“You couldn’t even pull away from her!”

   “Maybe that’s because it was a stupid kiss! She was dared to do it!”

   “That doesn’t make it any better. If I’m dared to kill someone, that doesn’t all of a sudden make murder alright!”

   Jin shook his head. “You were being over dramatic, and now you’re in pain.”

  “Is that what this is about?” you retorted. “You think it’s your fault that I did it?”

   Jin shrugged. “It was.”

   “Jin, you’re my best friend. You’ve been my best friend for nearly my entire life. I would have done it if it was a guy that had kissed you. Hell, the day you get a girlfriend, you better warn me because the next person I see who is trying to kiss you when you’re uncomfortable, I’ve got training.”

   Jin rolled his eyes. “Stop joking about.”

   Anger. It flooded you so suddenly that you couldn’t stop your outburst, your feelings coming to the surface in seconds. “I’m not joking about, Seokjin! That girl had her hands all over you, and you were trying to pull away. It’s not fair that you’re just going to let random strangers kiss you because it was just a dare. Hell, I’ve loved you for nearly five years now and I can control myself around you, so why do you think it’s okay for everybody else to just dive on you like that? It’s stupid, and it shouldn’t happen. You need to consent to a god damn kiss or else you need to file a report, because-”

   You stopped short, suddenly realising what you had just said in your fit of anger. Jin’s eyes go wide, his mouth opening a little bit – just enough to let you know that he doesn’t feel the same. That’s what you saw. One big rejection in his expression.

    “Fuck,” you said, deadpan and simple. Jin swallowed thickly, looking at you with those doe eyes that you so wanted to look away from right now. “If I could stand up without collapsing, I’d be storming out in embarrassment right now.”

   “Did you just say-”

   “You don’t need to repeat me,” you hissed, slapping his shoulder before covering your face with your hands. “I’m stupid, okay? We established that at lunch today. Apparently I’m on a spree of stupid decisions today.”

   Jin stayed silent. You could feel his gaze burning holes through your hands which you refused to move away from your burning cheeks.

   “You can leave if you want. I’ll make myself some ramen when my parents get home, so I won’t starve. Delete my number, never text me again, call me a bitch to your friends – you don’t have to stay.”

   You expected him to get up and leave. You expected him to close that door behind him, leaving his key behind, and leaving your friendship along with it, because how could he continue on with this after what you had just admitted? It would forever be awkward, and awkwardness was something Jin never played directly into.

   But he didn’t. Instead, he shifted forward and rested his hands on your knees, making you gasp at the sudden contact. Your hands fell from your face, landing on top of Jin’s before you attempt to flinch them away, but Jin’s strong hands entangled themselves in yours, stopping you from moving. 

   “Please don’t outwardly reject me,” you groaned, throwing your head back. “I don’t want to hear the words. You can just leave and I’ll-”

   “You have no idea how glad I am that you’ve just said that,” Jin said, and his voice was so soft that you nearly missed his words. You looked down at him, raising a brow in mild confusion, trying to piece together what he had said.

   It couldn’t have been what you thought it was, could it?

   “Come again?” you asked.

   Jin was smiling now, a smile so big and broad that his shoulders look small in comparison. “Y/N L/N, you have no idea how glad I am that you just said you loved me. That you just confirmed that you feel the same way about me as I feel about you.”

   The air was shoved from your lungs, your mouth opening slightly before clamping itself closed. “Jin, playing with somebodies feelings like that isn’t nice. It’s actually quite hurtful.”

   “I’m not playing.” Jin stood up, leaned over, using the back of the sofa as his arm rest. His face was inches from yours now, his breath dancing on your face as your eyes connect, suddenly frozen in time. “Now, do I have consent to kiss you?”

   “Not too harshly. My lips still healing.”

   Jin grinned. “I’ll be careful.” And then he was kissing you, hands resting on the back of the sofa as you tried your hardest to meet his lips half way, using all the strength in your body to wrap your arms over his shoulders and pull him into you. He chuckled at your mild sense of eagerness, his own hands coming down to your waist as he balanced himself on his knee. His lips were warm and soft, and they mingled perfectly with yours. They felt static-like, as if your lips were excited to finally be meeting each other after nearly eighteen years of friendship.

   He pulled away all too quickly, leaning his forehead against yours. You kept your eyes closed, not wanting to open them in fear of it all being fake. He was lying, or you were still unconscious, completely dreaming this entire thing up. That scenario honestly seemed so much more likely than the one you were in right now, but the feeling of Jin’s hand gently running along your bruised eye made you realise that this was not a dream – Jin loved you back.

   Jin sighed, pressing another surprise kiss to your lips before he pulled away fully. He ran his hands down his apron, took one look at you and shook his head.

   “I can’t believe you didn’t catch on sooner. I don’t share my food with anyone, and you got a lot of my rice the other day.”

   You rolled your eyes, your signature move when you were with Kim Seokjin. “I’m honoured, you idiot. Now, let’s make kimchi.”

[wonderfulworldofwinchester]

Familiar Face

First installment in the No Place Like You Series.

Jensen x Reader, Y/F/N- your friend’s name, Jared, Kim, Brianna 

Series summary: Your best friend finally convinces you to put on your big girl panties and go to a Supernatural convention while you are in Atlanta. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would catch Jensen’s eye. Little does he know, you have your own spotlight. (I’m terrible at summaries; stay with me haha) 

Warnings: Language, awkwardness, idk. 

Word Count: 1752 

A/N: This is my first attempt at a true series, and it’s only my second time writing Jensen, so be gentle haha. Also, remember, THIS IS FICTION, for the purpose of this storyline Jensen is single. There is in no way hate intended towards his family. 

PART2  

 Masterlist       To Do List         Ask Me Anything/Requests  

Y/N’s POV 

I groan in response to the incessant beeping of the stupid alarm clock in our hotel room, lazily fumbling about, trying to find the snooze button. “Hold it! What do you think you’re doing missy?!” Oh Y/F/N, and her bubbly, chipper morning self. 

“Five more minutes...” I mumbled into the pillow, begging her for some mercy. 

She apparently takes that as a sign to jump on my bed and start bouncing up and down, repeatedly chanting, “Today’s the day! Today’s the day!” 

“Get off of me!” 

“Nu-uh, not until you get up! Come on, come on, up up! We have a big day ahead!” 

All that ecapes my mouth is a grumble, followed by some explatives, and finally, “Don’t remind me...” 

“Seriously Y/N? I mean you’ve only loved this show since day one. You should be excited, it’s gonna be so much fun! Cons are awesome, you meet soooooo many cool people. Not to mention the cast is there” she says nudging me with her elbow, and wiggling her brows in that goofy way she does. 

She and I have been best friends since god only knows when. We’ve been through everything together, and she’s always been the one to push me out of my shell. At this point she could get me to do anything with her goofy go get em attitude. “Fine....” I throw my hands up in surrender, as I sit up. 

Her ecstatic squeal’s loud enough to wake everyone in the hotel, I’m sure of it. She bounds around the room, gathering up what she says is the perfect con outfit for me. I had begged her before we came to let me dress down. I want to be low key in this whole thing- no attention brought to me what so ever; completely under the radar. “Here, wear this” she says handing me a simple black t-shirt. Oh thank god, she did hear me! I thought. 

My mini celebration stops abruptly when I flip the shirt over. There’s a giant picture of Dean leaning against the Impala with he words ‘Forget the Prince Charming with his horse, I want Dean with his Impala!’ scrawled across the front. “I am not wearing this.” I say, getting up from the bed, and heading towards the bathroom to get in the shower. 

Her response is to put her hands on her hips, lean forward, and pout “Y/N, you love Dean!” 

“And I can love him without the shirt to prove it.” 

“Please, I’m wearing my Sam shirt... come on don’t leave me hanging. We gotta be the complete Winchester set.” 

Ugh, “Fine. I’ll wear it, but I am wearing a flannel over it!” 

Within a couple short hours we are walking into the lobby with people buzzing about, all giddy and laughing with each other. I have to admit it’s kinda cool. I mean all these people coming together simply because of a common interest in a show. 

Y/F/N was right, everyone is so nice. I still try to keep my head down though. This was still entirely too new. Before I know it, she’s dragging me all over the damn hotel doing all kinds of things she says we have to, because ‘she’s got a checklist’. 

The day goes by pretty quickly, and I’ll never tell her, but I’m glad she convinced me to come. I’ve had more fun in the last few hours than I have in a long time. But, right now however, I’m a weird mix of excited, nervous, and at a loss for words. The time has come. The J2 panel was about to begin. 

“Y/N, would you get your ass in here already!” Y/F/N’s voice snaps me out of my trance. She has already gone through the door, and I’m left standing here  just on the other side like an idiot. “For god’s sake, it’s not like they’re gonna jump off the stage and kill you!” She says grabbing my hand and pulling me down the aisle to our seats. 

Only about 5 minutes into the panel, she slapping her hand down onto my bouncing leg, “God why are you so nervous? You’re sitting in a chair listening to people talk, calm down.” 

‘Sorry, I can’t help it” 

Jensen’s POV 

Here I am on stage in front of fans with Jared, suppose to be paying attention, but I can only think about this girl I Caught a glimpse of earlier. Literally, I only saw her for a fraction of a second, but she’s been on my mind all day. Her smile just lit up the room. “Dude!” Jared’s voice and slap on the shoulder, brought me back into reality. “Did you even hear the question?” 

I look up, pulling a face, “I’m not gonna lie, no, I did not.” The room busts out laughing at what they think might be me just being goofy or something, allowing me to get away with it this time. Jared however, picks up on it a little more. He’s caught me spacing out all day. 

After the girl asked her question again, and I gave her my answer, my eyes start to scan the crowd as they normally would, until they fall on the same smile from earlier. There she is, sitting beside her friend. God that smile. 

While I am managing to stay more focused for the rest of the panel, my eyes always find their way back to her. She laughs at the stupid joke I just attempted to make, and I swear my heart about busts open. I tell myself that this is ridiculous, I never even met her. I shouldn’t feel this way. 

She’s whispering with her friend, and they both start giggling. I think to myself, I could get lost in that giggle forever. She’s just so freaking cute. I silently keep hoping she will look up when I am looking at her, but she never does. Her eyes refuse to look in my direction. They are always glue somewhere in the general direction of the stage, but they never meet mine. 

Not long after, the panel is ending, and Jared and I are walking off the stage. His questions start the moment we are out of sight. “You saw her didn’t you?” 

I try to brush him off, and keep walking. “What are you talking about?” 

“oh don’t give me that crap. I’ve known you long enough to know that a girl has caught your eye. All day you’ve been spacey, and I’ve never seen you that off in a panel.” 

I stop and turn to face him. “Ok. Alright. Fine. I did see a girl earlier that may have sparked an interest. Yes, she was in there, but don’t go getting all-” I start to gesture wildly with my hands, know exactly what I mean, probably not many other people do, “on me.”

“Why?” 

“It’s one girl in a sea of people, I’ve never met her, and she wouldn’t even look at me in there.” I know good and well those are piss poor excuses, but it’s all I got right now. Luckily he backs off, clearly not in the mood to argue with me any more at the moment. 

We start walking across the hotel. There were of course fans lining the way. We acknowledge them as we walk by, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her. She is just standing there with her friend, not screaming like most of the people in the room. I turn my head to look at her, and for the first time, my eyes catch hers. I offer a smile, and her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink as her head dropped down and then to her friend. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. So damn cute. 

Y/N’s POV

I throw my arm out, unintentionally hitting Y/F/N in the stomach producing an umph sound from her lips. “I looked right at him!!!” I say, my eyes as wide as they could be, and my face all up in hers. 

“What? Who?” She says, trying to recover from the blow. 

“What do you mean who? JENSEN FREAKING ACKLES!” 

She laughs, throwing her arms around my neck, “Ah, I’m so proud of you!” She jokes. We giggle and goof off all the way back to our room. She wants every little detail of that milisecond of an interaction, if you could even call it that. “He smiled? See, I told you they were nice!” 

I plop down on my bed, “Even serial killers smile sometimes.” 

She is in the bathroom, no doubt reapplying make up. “Wait, so you think Jensen Ackles is a serial killer?” She laughs, knowing good and well that’s not what I meant. 

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean. Just because a person smiles, doesn’t mean they are what you say they are.” 

She rolls her eyes as she comes out of the bathroom. Yep, new make up in place. “Whatever, come on, get up, get ready, we gotta go.” 

“Ugh, I know.” 

Jensen’s POV 

Everybody’s heading out to dinner, and boy are they a riot tonight. Well, honestly when are they not, though? Jared is still giving me crap about this girl. Why would I ever expect anything less from him.  About half way into this dig, Kim and Brianna happen to overhear him. “Oh, did I just hear what I think I did?” Brianna chirps. “Does someone have a little crush?” She grins. Now Kim's looking at me in expectancy too. Great. 

Jared tells them all about my behavior that day, meanwhile, I try to slip back behind the crowd, not wanting to be apart of the conversation anymore. The building we’re walking along side has many posters displaying upcoming events and shows. I Take in the sights as I pass by, but none of them catch my interest. Except this one. The last poster on the wall stops me in my tracks. 

Everybody else keeps walking, but I just stand there staring like a moron. 

Eventually, Jared realizes I’m no longer right beside him, and turns to see me standing here. “You good?” He asks, and all I can do is point to the picture. Jared tells the rest of them to go ahead, and he, Kim, and Brianna walk back to where I was. “What? What’s up?” 

“It’s her” 

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[overcaffeinated-creative]

Tonight’s Shit Post Fic (Told In Dashes)

((Now edited and stuff!!))

Premise: Modern!Solus attending a work holiday party with the clear beginning of her loving Triad with her, her girlfriend, and whatever the fuck she counts Pre as. Technically he’s her boss/political pick for whenever they get back to Mandalore to lead/ leader of their Council but they’ve blurred lines for years at this point.

(This got super long so it’s going under a readmore)

-The party’s some winter holiday party in December at a nice place. Naturally, Solus gets to show up dressed to the absolute nines with her hair and makeup on point.

(There’s a Hobeika cocktail dress, Alexander McQueen bag, Fendi glasses, Burberry coat, and her signature Louboutins: lace booties in this specific instant.) 

-Among the wonderful things at this party, besides people she actually likes, is the open bar. Should Solus be drinking? Probably not. Is it going to stop her? No fucking way. There’s champagne drinks to be drank without paying attention.

-She 100% keeps sneaking pictures of Bo Katan in her lovely suit because “My girlfriend is 🔥🔥🔥". So, there’s lots of really dorky social media posts that go on the entire night. 

-(”Cyar’ika, while that’s a nice picture of my ass take it down please.”)

-It’s not at all to make her Trendy Friends/Future Soccer Moms-Crunchy Granola Parents jealous af but it some of it totally is.

-As with any event, even the ones she’s excited for, Sen comes too. He’s wearing his vest because he’s working but he also gets to wear one of his nice collars. It coordinates with her outfit. 

-Before they left home she took a bunch of selfies with him sans his working vest and in one of his bow ties. He’s a very handsome boy and she loves him very much. Of course, everyone has to see how cute they are together and how well he coordinates with her.

-Everything goes really well. There’s a few times she has to retreat for a little bit to catch her breath and calm down. Because there are a lot of people around. Solus is honestly having a good time though. This is her Aliit.

-For once, she’s also not the tiniest person for a change. Those killer heels make her very tall, very leggy, and clearly every inch the goddess she is. Damn right she’s flaunting it.

-Her and Allison from Accounting pal around at various points throughout the night. They swap stories about their beloved animals (Allison has a large, smoke colored standard poodle named Bluebell) and gossip a little.

-They also take a bunch of selfies because they both look good and it’s really fun? Yeah, they’re rough and tough but sometimes it’s really nice to indulge in being super girly too.

-Of course, there’s Solus and various Wrens hanging out too. It’s not an Official Event if Solus, Ty, and Berni aren’t together at least once to talk shit and mess around. Damn right she’s got Ursa into a Selfie too. She even smiled. 

-The Problem happens when Solus hits her “One drink too many” line later into the night then gets pulled into pictures.

-See, she had been dancing around Pre all night because that’s how they work. They’re friendly and super, super close by this point. There’s also tons of sparks that them and Bo had all acknowledged but no one is making a move to turn things Official.

-”Put Solus in the middle” was someone’s brilliant idea for a picture. So, she’s suddenly away of just how nice Pre smells and Bo’s right there looking divine. When she gets an Idea.

-For one round, she casually drops her hand to rest on her lover and her boss’ asses. Because what is impulse control when you’re way past tipsy?

-(That picture is hilarious because she looks super innocent, Pre is clearly confused, and Bo’s cracking up. Someone’s clearly away of what’s going on.)

-Pictures are over but small, cold hands are still casually resting on rear ends and even migrated into back pockets.

-”Solus, what are you doing?” Pre asked because this was going Somewhere. He just isn’t aware of where that Somewhere is or what’s really happening.

“Warming my hands?” Her face is flushed only from the booze. At this point she has absolutely zero shame in doing anything.

“...” Not the answer he expected but also not unexpected.

-Bo steps in because this corner is only going to stay relatively clear for so long before someone Notices. Not that someone hooking up with a coworker is really new at this point. Kyr’tsad is as much a company as a mobile community so the fuck is even going on. 

-(Several someones are winning bets is what is going on. They just don’t know it it yet.)

-”Solus, what are you doing?”

“Taking initiative like you said. Remember, ‘I don’t know. Slap his ass?’ was one of your suggestions.”

“Wasn’t talking about you seriously doing that. And that isn’t slapping.”

-See, that just became a challenge so she pointedly stares Bo down while removing her hand from Pre’s back pocket. Then she casually slaps his ass before going wide eyed. “Wow...it feels as nice as it looks.” 

-Sen, who is very much a husky and therefore cannot blush, is blushing in shame for his handler. Who is clearly toasted.

-”Time to get you home,” Bo remarks before this gets even more out of hand.

-Speaking of hands, no one’s removed them yet. They’re just there. Resting on two fantastic examples of ass. 

-”Remove your hands, Cyare.”

“Will you remove my shirt?”

“You’re wearing a dress.”

“Will you remove your shirt?”

“Not in public.”

-Sen has covered his face with his paws. He is Too Intelligent and knows this is both hilariously bad and definitely embarrassing. 

-”Can we go home then? I want my dress and your shirt off. Everything else too.”

-Pre deserves lots of credit for his brain working and not outright laughing at Solus. Someone trained in tact and grace and People Skills lacks all of them right now. Seriously, he’s watched her charm senators and governors and foreign dignitaries. This shows none of those skills. But, she is very smiley in the moment and truly relaxed...he likes this better.

-Giving it a few seconds pause she looks up at him curiously, “You could come too.” A beat passes as she giggles at her own (terrible) innuendo. The other two just laugh at her while the dog groans. 

-Honestly. Humans.

-”I’ll find my own way home.” He’s very much a gentleman and she is very much blitzed. But, that’s a thought he is certainly going to explore later. Someone’s finally making a move.

-Solus pouts because this is so Unfair. But, she finally drops her hands after a final squeeze. She’s Opportunistic.

-Bo-Katan sits her in a chair with Sen guarding her and goes to collect their coats. Pre asked if she needed help wrangling Solus at least into the Uber but the answer was surprisingly no. Even in death heels she’s really good at not falling.

-Solus, meanwhile, is dropping half the contents of Pre’s wallet or his watch into her purse. Because Drunk!Solus is wingmanning for Sober!Solus tomorrow. He’ll have to stop by to get his stuff.

-Uber goes fine but Bo totally ended up carrying her into the house and up the stairs. Solus is being both adorably snugly and whining “My toes are cold and the snow is too deep for me to walk in.”

-Being a full on Saint, her girlfriend also takes care of her and Sen. Included in this is things like, “Drink this pedialtye. You’ll need it tomorrow” and getting her into a shower. Also hanging up her nice dress, getting her phone on charge, and making sure her make up is taken off. Sen, is far easier to manage.

-If there’s some fun times, who’s blaming her? Solus is very affectionate and making out like teenagers is very fun, even when you aren’t.

-Morning after really kicks off the Saint Status/probably deification of Bo-Katan Kryze. Because Solus is clearly hungover even with the precautions taken. Thus, it’s getting her into another shower, giving her ginger tea, and sitting her in the dark living room with a fuzzy blanket. 

-Also, making breakfast because even hungover girlfriends need to eat. In this case, it’s a ham and cheese omelette and multigrain toast with more electrorlyte drinks. But, it’s food.

-They spend all day cuddling and watching movies. Intermixed with this is taking care of Sen and Solus groaning, “I said that?” or “I did that.”

- Sen’s clearly judging her in between naps and playing with his Kong.

-Pre texts when he woke up asking if they knew what happened to his belongings. Solus gets a deer in the headlights look. 

-”Yeah...I think I pickpocketed you. I’ve got everything in my purse. Wanna stop by Bo’s to get it?”

-Which, again, props to her proving that even sloshed she’s got Sneaky Skills on lockdown.

-Later in the evening, Pre stops by to collect his belongings from his favorite pickpocket.

-Bo-Katan, wingmanning this trainwreck, gives them a chance to be alone. Because they’re the only part of this Thing that needs to really work things out. Her and Pre have their standing arrangements.

-Before she can actually call out, “Just kiss already!” when coming back from taking Sen for a walk. They actually are kissing. It’s almost sweet.

-”Actual talk happens when we’re all not hungover.” was Solus’ rule before making the call for Pre that he’s staying for a while. Namely, to be cuddled by the small koala, who watches French movies and manages to take up body space of both of them.

-There’s occasional making out like teenagers. Because Solus is Opportunistic and Hedonistic.

-”Solus, next time just ask?” Pre reminds her when he finally gets his belongings back.

[autumn-in-phandom]

Dan and Phil play Dream Daddy

MEET DILDDY LESTOWELL

I loved this video! I was dying of laughter in the first fifteen minutes and just had to make timestamps. Very very long under the cut.

0:00 Phil is wearing his rainbow zebra shirt! Being his best self.

0:03 Wow was that second “daddies” necessary Phil? (Yes, it was.)

0:42 “Cause you know Dan and Phil they like to have the raw naked-”- Dan

0:45 “Immersion”- Phil

0:46 “They just like to go in-”- Dan

0:47 “Are you saying we’re going to have to be blurring some things-”- Phil

0:48 “Bare. What?”- Dan (what?)

0:58 “Give me that Daddiest graphics.”- Phil

1:00 “Oh it’s like Yuri on Ice.”- Dan

1:10 Phil will be a long haired vampire in ten years. Yes, something to look forward to.

1:25 “Phil, don’t do your chin like that, you’re fine.”- Dan (damn fine)

2:07 “Is that your best dad voice?”- Dan

2:14 “Do you wanna be Dad?”- Phil (sass)

2:15 “Phil, everyone wants you to be Dad.”- Dan (the honest truth)

2:34 “Moving house? Oh my god!”- Dan (omg!)

2:45 “Coordinating the headband with the nails.”- Dan (noticing the important stuff)

2:46 “Definitely.”- Phil

2:53 Phil’s yawn, wtf was that? Sounds like a dog.

2:55 “Are you American now?”- Dan

2:56 “I don’t knowww.”- Phil (poor frustrated Phil)

3:03 “Build that Dad!”- in sync

3:30 “Dilddy! No?”- Phil (Dan’s face)

3:36 “Yeah sure. Let’s not think about that anymore Phil.”- Dan

4:04 “Thor. We just made Thor by accident.”- Phil (always with the Thor)

4:07 “Ah the bun hair.”- Dan

4:08 “Man bun.”- Phil

4:09 “That’s very like modern dad aesthetic.”- Dan

4:12 “That’s quite Dil-y”- Phil

4:13 “That’s the most Dil-esque, I think.”- Dan

4:19 “Heart eyes.”- Phil

4:20 “SENPAI!!!”- Dan

4:30 “Can you just have heart eyes the entire game?”- Dan (are you asking for permission Dan?)

4:31 “The whole time.”- Phil

4:32 “Is that just going to ruin the game?”- Phil (no.)

4:33 “Would that be slightly distracting?”- Dan (well, yes.)

4:58 “Noman Rose.”- Phil (has a bit of a Roman nose)

5:10 They love the lips, sassy mouths

5:39 “He banged it on some kind of exercise equipment.”- Phil

5:40 “Wrestling another dad for territory.”- Dan (sure)

5:45 “Yes!”- Phil is excited by facial hair options (and I’m excited for him)

5:50 “More people should have black hair and blonde beards.”- justifying your ginger eyebrows Phil?

5:51 Dan has to think a second before agreeing

5:55 Hunger Games aesthetic, okay.

6:00 “I asked you yesterday if you’d grow a full beard. If you wanted to. Like what’s your answer to that question?”- Phil (I’m going to cry.)

6:04 “What in like twenty years?”- Dan

6:05 “Yeah.”- Phil

6:05 “Yeah, sure. I’ll give it a crack.”- Dan

6:06 “Do you think you’ll ever have a full beard?”- Phil

6:09 “Ever?”- D

6:10 “Ever.”- P

6:10 “Yeah, maybe in like ten years when I finish going through puberty.”- Dan

6:13 “I kinda wanna try.”- Phil wants to try a beard, people! And it might be a different color than his fringe. I see.

6:15 “This is the best part!”- Phil on clothing

6:19 “Can’t you just like have nothing?”- Phil (for underroos apparently)

6:22 “Captain America! Yes!”- Phil (nice six pointed star)

6:25 “Egg nips. I mean totally, I can see that.”- Dan

6:31 Phil saying “Daddy Dil” kills me

6:35 “Cats! With a suit jacket.”- Phil (we have a winner)

6:43 I agree with Dan about that pattern, it reminds me of party centers, roller rinks and tour busses. Phil with the Saved by the Bell reference.

7:00 “Goals. As the kids would say.”- Dan

7:26 “Be that dad. The dad you always dreamed to be.”- Dan

7:28 “Now do we get to date some dads?”- Phil Lester asking the important questions.

7:58 Phil’s second child syndrome

8:13 “No mum’s must exist in this universe!”- Dan (okay Dan, interesting justification)

8:35 “I was just given a bin bag and some sticky stars to say I was a ‘wizard’. Yeah.”- Phil (dang that’s cheap, Lesters)

8:43 “Princess Dragon!”- in sync

8:45 Dan would watch a scaley fairytale movie

9:05 “I wish I had a horse phase.”- Dan (I’m glad I did)

9:09 “Or a Horse Prince phase.”- Phil (he’s not over it)

9:11 “Oh we all had that.”- Dan

9:20 “Why aren’t we going to McFridayz?”- Phil

9:50 Adoption +1

10:00 Kangaroo existential crisis

10:19 “Hit me.”- Dan

10:25 “He knows what to do.”- Dan (getting really into it)

10:30 “Yeah. Then what?”- squeaky over dramatic Dan

10:35 “And then he ran away with a kangaroo.”- Phil (there are two types of people in this world)

10:44 “Just look him up on Facebook! Or did he die?”- Phil

11:02 “The old house!”- fake crying Dan

11:05 Hawaiian backstories, driving distraction

11:15 Hydration: “I can get behind this.”- Dan

11:22 Phil, waving your hands in the air where Dan sneezes is not going to keep the germs away. Maybe if you both actually covered.

11:33 Everyone does bicep curls in this Daddy themed universe

12:12 Dil Howlter house without the owl slide is no Dil Howlter house at all.

12:44 “Dogs!”- Phil

12:48 “CLICK!”- Dan

12:55 Dog to person ratio should be the highest thing on the agenda for any neighborhood

13:11 “Side quest!”- Dan

13:11 “Dog quest!”- Phil

13:12 “Dog time! I’m here for some cute drawn dogs.”- Dan

13:16 Woofing song to the tune of the Katamari theme!

13:27 “What is this idyllic pastel utopia that they’re living in right now? Honestly.”- Dan

13:30 “Where’s the diseased pigeons?”- Phil (London summarized by Phil)

13:47 “DOGS! (toddlers) NOT INTERESTED! (dogs) INTERESTED!”- Dan

13:52 Panting puppies D&P

14:05 “A corgi! Of all the dogs!”- Phil (this is the only reason Phil agreed to play this game)

14:14 “Delet this doggo.”- Dan

14:20 Second “Bork!”

14:26 “Oh god this is the cutest dog. Can we just do dog adoption simulator instead?”- Phil (I’m sure you could)

14:30 “Pet the dog!”- Phil

14:58 “Woah! Irish father of my children!”- Dan

15:13 Gruff and slightly offensive leprechaun

15:18 Puppy role play ;)

15:25 Phil saw the aubergines come out.

15:35 Phil apologizes for “Dilddy”

16:05 Dan loves the freckle representation.

16:22 “Oh my god it’s a Dad Child Proud Of Brag Off”- Dan (very Undertale)

17:33 “Bam. Amazing.”- Dan, “Slapped.”- Phil

19:55 “I’m torn though, cause he has a corgi.”- Phil

19:57 “He has a corgi, but-”- Dan

19:58 “Can we not just date him to hang out with the corgi?”- Phil

20:01 “Can we date him, adopt the corgi and then break up with him?”- Dan

20:04 “Yes!”- Phil (a good plan)

20:33 “I mean let’s just get our own corgi. Let’s adopt a corgi.”- Dan (a better plan)

21:07 Dan would read horse fan-fiction.

21:36 Chocolate coffee beans btw

22:11 “*Sigh* Why would people sit next to you, they always do that though don’t they?”- Dan

22:26 "Am I being helpful or am I cluttering up everyone’s life?“- Dan

22:44 "Oh my god!”- Dan

22:45 “Another Dad.”- Phil

22:46 “With the ta- the glasses, the hair, the piercing.”- Dan (tattoos)

22:49 “Good layering. On the outfit.”- Phil

22:51 “Definitely.”- Dan

23:00 Dan doesn’t like the “too cool” vibe.

23:13 Husky voice ;)

23:38 Dan would not be able to hold a conversation with this guy in real life. Probably because he sounds too much like himself.

23:48 Iced Tegan and Sara (yay!)

23:02 Phil got the pun!

24:49 Couches (Starbucks sofa)

24:50 “Okay Amanda, wow. Life isn’t all about listening to cool music. It’s about enjoying the music that you like.”- Dan

25:00 Good lumbar support is important. It’s comfier than their couch. *giggles*

25:48 “Okay I’m about this.”- Dan (feeding kink)

25:50 “He’s got food!”- Phil

25:53 “Yes. Tick that box.”- Phil

27:08 Phil likes Mat’s awkwardness

27:10 Dan is on the fence: “I don’t know how to feel. Runs a coffee shop, bit of a hipster, is socially awkward, gives you banana bread. I think it’s looking mostly good.”

27:27 “Ohhhh.”- in sync (using 'baby’ in flirting)

28:00 “Wow. Are we adults? Cause we just moved recently.”- Yes Dan, you are adults.

28:08 “Do I smell bad?”- Phil

28:09 “Noo.”- Dan with a quick sniff, barely leaning in, he clearly already knew the answer.

28:16 They agree that the dark and mysterious stranger is the most intriguing part of the story. Stupid look at camera.

28:30 Acknowledging that they still have boxes

28:42 Pink duck, succulents and XBox 360 “Nice”- Phil

28:56 “Get the hell out of my life!”- Dan

29:00 “He’s too perfect already.”- Phil

29:08 “Robot. Robot. Robot.”- Phil

29:36 “Guffaw.”- Dan

30:13 Yeah, just move again guys!

30:28 Phil feels bad for kangaroo jokes earlier.

31:11 Phil likes the do over, time flipping, reset thing.

31:33 Louise story mention.

32:18 “What is that wink?”- Dan

32:30 “All of these daddies are mixed bags.”- Dan desk slamming returns

32:40 “He’s a bloody angel. He’s an angel.”- Dan

32:42 “He’s got a dark secret.”- Phil

32:44 “But also angels are terrible. Stop feeling bad by comparing yourself to an angel.”- Dan

32:48 “Dark secret.”- Phil

33:07 “Plot twizzle.”- Dan

33:45 “They are definitely possessed. I told you, dark secret.”- Phil

34:05 “Christie, Christian and Chris. Wow.”- Dan

34:08 “Evil.”- Phil

34:09 “Definitely.”- Dan

34:28 Exorcist

34:34 “Time for the nappy ding dong.”- Dan

35:01 “Bro”- Dan  "Bro"- Phil

35:20 That look

35:22 “Old college roommate.”- Phil

35:23 “Just sayin.”- Dan

35:35 “River. Oh my god.”- Dan (good name)

35:42 Nice baby gurgling Dan

35:51 “Survived that hazing together.”- Dan

36:00 Phil enjoying the matching eyebrows

36:06 “Maybe they got that scar together, doing something, as roommates.”- Dan

36:30 “Copacabana.”- Dan

36:50 “Clearly we didn’t have the American college experience. We did the Smirnoff Slam.”- Dan

37:05 Jogging with baby imitation

37:12 “Wow. Dilddy is just every person probably on the internet and YouTube, in the community watching this.”- Dan

37:25 “Wow. So relatable.”- Dan (shush Dan, #relatable is your schtick)

37:30 “How is he so ripped if he never jogs though?”- Phil (umm you selected that body type and said he works out.)

37:37 “Bro brunch.”- Phil, “A bro brunch?!”- Dan

“Why do we never have bro brunches?”- Dan, “I don’t know”-Phil

“What the hell is a bro brunch?”- Dan, “I don’t know.”- Phil

37:52 “Jog on, Craig.”- Phil, “Jog on, Craig? Jesus.”- Dan

38:18 “I mean, there’s like, stuff in that, isn’t there.”- Yes Dan, they’re tomatoes.

41:01 “The blonde guy.”- Phil

41:10 Phil likes coffee shop guy. Gee I wonder why. Dan is unsure, too cool.

41:30 Dan likes the blonde: confidence, wants to make you happy, “that’s who Dilddy needs in his life, at this important time.” (Dear god Dan can you not?)

Phil still thinks he’s a robot with satanic children. Yep.

41:51 Gee Phil you don’t seem into it. (probably just tired, maybe headache)

42:08 “Thumb it”, tickle, etc.

42:45 “Get a dog.”- Dan