#it was supposed to stay in my drafts forever but! whatever!

[malewifeharem]

CELEB JING YUAN?? ☁️

celebrity!AU jingyuan

彡- ,, a collection of my brainrots about dating jing yuan as diff types of celebs!

cw ⁞ none unless ur allergic to rich hot general fluff. not proofread.

an ⁞ this may be a little ooc, i apologise ehe. I TRIED PLEASE I PROMISE RGRGGRHRGHGRHG

imagine ceo!jingyuan picking you up from work at your office, patiently waiting for you in his car. he doesn't understand why you want to continue working when he's already mentioned countless times how he could provide for you. you'd never have to work a day in your life again! (lets pretend we're hardworking in this) he gets out of the car to greet you with a smirk before opening the car door for you.

"get in, princess."

you smile at him and thank him for sending you home again — this has become a habit of his, though he sees it more as his duty. you quickly arrive at his residence and were about to bid him goodbye when he suddenly stopped you — his hand gripping your wrist, reluctant to let go. you ask him what's wrong and he just has the saddest pout on his face, looking like a dejected, kicked puppy. (lion?)

"why won't you let me spoil you... i know how much you hate your boss, if you resign, you'll never have to deal with him again. i'll pay for whatever you'll ever want and need, darling," he murmurs sleepily, pulling you closer to him so he can rest his head on your chest. how are you supposed to say no to him like this?! you don't notice his smug smirk as he hears your heartbeat fasten rapidly — he already knows you'll give in to him this time. (sly mf)

imagine artist!jingyuan who sits in his studio everyday, painting his beloved lover onto countless numbers of canvases — his work forever preserved. they all lay untouched, scattered on the floor. he's displeased. you'd visit his studio occasionally and always find him grumbling and utterly frustrated with himself. usually, when he's hit with a creativity block like this, it passes within a couple of days but he's been in this state of discontent for weeks at this point.

"i've been painting for ages now but nothing is appealing," he groans.

you turn to look at the multiple canvases strewn all across the floor and you beg to differ but ultimately decided to stay quiet — you won't be able to understand an artist's grievances anyway. you comfort him to the best of your abilities and you can tell that he appreciates it a lot — the weight of his eyebags lifting slightly. you return to the studio a few days later to see it in a completely different state of mess, the canvases from before are now replaced by sludges of clay.

"oh, you're back. ah, so you've seen the ceramic statues. it's you, my love. it seems your beauty is so breathtaking that it must simply be portrayed in multiple forms of art."

imagine world renowned author!jingyuan who sits in his garden everyday, inscribing his poems on scrolls — the work forever preserved. he hums in satisfaction as he rolls up the piece of parchment, slotting it into a case before sending it off to you via his personal cycrane. you're already reading his first draft within a few hours and pointing out any mistakes he's made so carelessly — making sure to add sarcastic comments by the side to add salt to the wound. after a few days of corrections, the work is ready to be sold to the collectors — the two of you meeting up to thank them for the smooth transaction.

"must you be so cruel every time you mark my work, my love?"

"it's because you're so sloppy with your work, 'yuan. aren't you a famous author? hm?"

"sorry, i work best with a reward-based system. maybe you should give me a kiss for every grammatically correct sentence."

"if that's what will solve your problem then fine."

"don't act so cold, we both know you'd like that."

you notice that his writings have become longer and you haven't been able to spot any mistakes either. (rip your sore lips)

[callme-darling]

What if we give Vincent some angst, breaking up with him because all he does is work :((

sometimes, love isn’t enough

word count: 680

warnings: fem reader, angst (i LOVE angst hehe)

if there’s one thing you understood before getting serious with vincent, it was that his work hours and workload would require a significant amount of his time and attention. you understood that, and you rolled with it. for awhile, at least.

it wasn’t so bad in the beginning. sure, he’d be a little late coming home sometimes, the dinner you prepared having gone cold sitting on the stove. but dinner could be reheated, and he was always present when talking to you, so you let that slide.

but when the late nights in the office began to bleed into reservations planned out months ahead, you couldn’t deny the hurt. or his growing nonchalance to missing milestones; that was when the attitude you had managed to keep began to falter.

you stopped asking him when he expected to be home, knowing that whatever answer he gave you would likely run at least two hours later. for nearly a week you even stopped talking to him, just to see if he’d notice. he didn’t.

thus, your decision was made. you packed all of your clothes and most of your smaller possessions while he was at work. no rush, you’d joke to yourself, there’s plenty of time to leave someone who never felt your absence in the first place. despite your reservations on leaving, it still tasted bitter. your bottom lip quivered as you gingerly tucked the final picture frames in your suitcase.

most of your bags had already been packed in your car, and you were exhausted by the time you got the last one slotted into the backseat. it was dusk and you knew you had a long drive to your friends house.

a handwritten letter sat on the dining table, drafted as a final farewell and touch of love you weren’t sure would even be felt.

‘vincent,

forgive me, but this seemed better. i’d rather have you remember me as the coward who wrote my fears rather than how i ruined everything by saying them out loud.

i love you, i do. but i’m afraid i’ve made that love too important. because you’re going to leave me. we can’t deny it, you’re always going to leave. i could feel it already. i’ve never felt more alone than in a room with you. i’m afraid i’ll love you forever and we will never be in the same room again. i know you look at me, but do you still see me?

i think we both deserve a soft epilogue. no screaming, no tears, no chance for a hurtful exchange. so i’ll finish this with a simple goodbye. that would be better than saying something dangerous, like i love you.

y/n’

a few hours later, when you’re already halfway to the coast of bordeaux where your friend is waiting for you, your phone dings in the cupholder. ‘where are you?’ a few minutes pass before a picture of vincent’s smiling face illuminates the small screen as it vibrates. you let it ring until the screens goes black. a moment later a stream of messages chime. ‘please answer darling’ ‘where are you going?’ ‘answer the phone, please y/n’. then another call attempt. you ignore that one too.

your eyes began to sting as your throat constricts. you didn’t want to leave, let alone leave like this, but you knew yourself too well. if you had stayed, waited for him to come home, you knew you’d stay for good. at least, until it got bad again. and thus, by running away like some coward, you’re escaping a fatal cycle, you convinced yourself over and over again. it was the right move, he’ll move on soon enough, and i will too, the voice in your head reminded you.

what hurt the most, you supposed, was not the fact that you were unloved. vincent loved you, you were certain of that. but it still wasn’t enough. that is where your pain lives.

and for the remaining two hour drive to bordeaux, you wept quietly to yourself, knowing vincent was doing the same in the home you once shared.

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

This is a post absolutely nobody asked for because 0 of you follow me for Takes on music, but one of the pop music podcasts I listen to has been all in on Pop Girl Spring, and they played a little game the other week where they did a draft for the top 10 songs from all the albums they’ve been covering – so that’s the new releases by Taylor Swift, Beyonce, Maggie Rogers, Gracie Abrams, Dua Lipa, Billie Eilish, Charli XCX, Ariana Grande, and Kacey Musgraves, plus the currently charting album-less singles by Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan.  And while I don’t have the fun structure of a competitive draft to play with, it did make me sit down and hash out my own Top 10, and I have literally nowhere to put the fruits of all that effort except Tumblr, so here’s way, way more words than anyone asked for about POP GIRL SPRING.

Listed in not-exactly no particular order, but also not in This Specific Order, like, this is not a countdown, I’m not ranking them with great specificity or anything.  The 10 songs I need on my imaginary Pop League Team.

Good Luck, Babe! (Chappell Roan): Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess is a great album and I think Roan has a great career ahead of her (knock on wood), but this is the first song she’s released that feels like a Timeless Hit to me, like the kind of thing that’s going to show up in Buzzfeed quizzes in the 2040s about picking the best songs from this decade.  On god, this could be one of the best pop choruses ever written – starting with that fucking high note is such a flex! – and it’s such a poster child for how great, earwormy pop music can tell a fairly specific story and make it feel deeply universal.  Legendary.  No notes.

Espresso (Sabrina Carpenter): SONG OF THE SUMMER.  Is it a better pop song than Good Luck, Babe?  No.  Is it the Song of the Summer anyway?  Yes, because those aren’t supposed to be Timeless, they’re supposed to make you forever remember *this specific summer* in your life.  It’s a great song with an unbeatable hook, and I dig the fact that it makes just slightly less sense than it probably should – caffeine is the metaphor for…how you’re going to stay up nights thinking about Sabrina Carpenter?  Okay.  Whatever you say.  It’s not a song about anything, which sometimes is bad but in this case is amazing, and there’s something marvelously audacious about committing to lines like “walked in and dream-came-true’d it for ya.”  Bonkers.  Delightful.  Carpenter has put out like 4 albums which does not seem possible for someone I up until now only vaguely remembered as “was on that nostalgia-bait Boy Meets World sequel series,” but man, she came to play with this one.

BILLIE GETS TWO

BIRDS OF A FEATHER: Hit Me Hard and Soft is a fantastic album, managing to edge further into straight-up pop territory without compromising the distinctive voice that’s made Eilish the Snobby Music Critic’s Pop Princess.  I have no idea how long she’s going to be able to (or want to) keep splitting the difference between these two identities, but she’s doing it right now, probably doing it better than anyone since Little-Earthquakes-era Tori Amos.  I chose this song because I think it does the best job of fusing those elements: it’s a right-down-the-middle love song in the classic pop vein of “i know my baby is a life-ruining trainwreck but honestly i do not care,” and it’s got good mid-tempo ballad structure with that little bit of haunted-ness that is Eilish’s signature sound, and I just think it’s probably the most solid song on the album.

CHIHIRO: This one is my *favorite* song on the album, which is why it’s here.  I don’t know what it’s about.  It’s not particularly “radio-friendly” (is that a thing anymore? What do we say instead of that? Digestible?)  It’s slinky and vaguely threatening and it just feels like a song that nobody else could do. It’s the one that’s been most consistently stuck in my head since I first listened to the album.  I feel like it’s flying under the radar a little, but I’m super here for it.

The Kill (Maggie Rogers): I feel like people sleep on Maggie Rogers because her marketing aesthetic seems kind of like, navel-gazing folky singer-songwriter, which is not all that Of the Moment right now.  But the thing is, that’s really not accurate at all!  Her music is just straight down-the-middle, strongly crafted pop, WHY is she not more famous?  She’s so good!  Don’t Forget Me is just so, so solid as a pop album, crammed full of songs that are massive hits in some alternate universe. “It Was Coming All Along” is my personal favorite, but for this list I’m sticking with The Kill, just because it seems to be the closest thing to a breakout hit off the album and I want to hype it up.  It’s a bouncy, incredibly sing-along-able song about a mutually destructive relationship, what is not to love.  Pop music was invented for this.

BEYONCE ALSO GETS TWO

BODYGUARD:  Look, I’m going to level with you, I wanted to like Cowboy Carter a lot more than I did. For me, the album has exactly the same flaw as Renaissance did, which is that it fundamentally feels like Beyonce has done a *ton* of research for her music history degree, stuffed every bit of it into the album, and by god you are going to listen to her senior thesis on the Black roots of popular music.  Both albums are like – so smart and so sincere and they just feel – a little bogged down to me.  I don’t know.  This may be entirely because I am just not on Beyonce’s level here, but there’s something about Cowboy Carter that makes it hard for me to really love as an album, rather than as a project.  That said, there were several tracks I really liked, and this one’s probably my favorite, maybe because it sounds the most authentically like a Beyonce track to me.  Whatever you think of Jay-Z or of the Carters’ marriage, it’s undeniable that a huge part of her as an artist and a human is tied up in this idea of being one half of their partnership, and when she does these “it’s me and my baby versus all the rest of you bitches” songs, she always strikes what to my ear is her most authentic, heartfelt notes.  BODYGUARD has a cool, California-road-trip kind of vibe that puts me in mind a little of “03 Bonnie & Clyde,” but appropriately, more grown-up now.

YA YA: After complaining that a lot of her recent music feels a little too overstuffed with References, I have to say that this is one of the worst offenders – but it fuckin works.  This feels deeply retro but not at all in a corny way, a great update of a certain kind of mid-century honky-tonk music that makes it feel vital and current.  I don’t think Beyonce has truly hit the same high in terms of weaving her politics and her music together since Lemonade, but to me this song stands up well alongside that album (which for the record, I think was a generational achievement, a truly transcendent work of art).  Also, as appropriate for a song whose theme is “shake your ass in defiance of a world that does not care about you,” the ass-shaking game is on point!  I honestly wish this song had received all the success that went to TEXAS HOLD ‘EM, which is a song I truthfully feel is hokey and try-hard.  This one covers the same ground but infinitely better.

Von Dutch (Charli XCX): I am a naysayer to Brat Summer, I’m sorry to say; I think Charli is a fairly decent pop musician and Brat is a fairly decent pop album, but I do Not get the hype.  It’s got some worthwhile tracks, and I do appreciate that she’s allowed some space to excavate less-common themes in pop music – songs about wondering if now is when she should be having kids, about wrestling with the way that other women bring out her personal insecurities – rather than just the genre staples of Love and Partying and Being Awesome.  That said.  I think the best song on the album is just a regular-degular banger about partying and being awesome.  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

YES, TAYLOR ALSO GETS TWO (man, it’s a 31-track double album! Get off my back!)

Down Bad: One of the things I don’t think Swift gets credit for, due to being overshadowed by the Harrowing Constant Drama of her personal life, is that she legitimately has a dry, off-kilter sense of humor that brings much-needed levity to the Harrowing Constant Drama of her body of work.  TTPD is, among other things, a *funny,* self-aware album about how knowing full well that your emotions are absolutely unhinged vis-a-vis actual reality doesn’t actually do jack shit to keep you from drowning in those emotions.  A lot of the hate for this album has really come from people who Do Not get the joke, who are cherry-picking verses and single lines from deeply self-aware songs without providing the context of that self-awareness.  I love this song.  I love the chorus: crying at the gym is a detail that’s perfectly, wryly relatable in its absurdity, and “everything comes out teenage petulance / fuck it, if I can’t have him I might just die” in that swingy, chipper groove is exactly why no one does it like she does, packing all that ambiguity and frustration and self-loathing of your own irrationality into a great hook.  I love the fuckin alien abduction framing device to talk about a relationship whose impact inside your own head and heart is wildly out of proportion to its impact on the materiality of your daily life – a relationship that *might as well have* happened on an entirely different planet than the one everyone else lives on.  It’s great.  This is a great song.

The Albatross: So I wanted for the second TTPD track to pick something from the other side of Swift, the one that *is* deeply, irretrievably, uncomfortably emotionally sincere.  There were definitely some strong contenders, but I kept coming back to this song, which I actually have heard very little chatter about, but has snuck up on me as an album favorite.  I try not to get too lost in the labyrinth of Swift’s endless Easter eggs and self-mythologizing, but this is a song that I do think benefits from understanding its place in her personal biography; specifically I think it gains a lot from seeing it as a companion piece to “The Archer,” a softly agonized song from the beginning of a relationship about the duality of predator and prey, about wanting to go all-in but dreading the part of you that you know is capable of sabotaging this.  The Albatross is – a softly agonized song from the ending of that same relationship about the duality of destruction and salvation, about wanting so much to protect someone you used to love from the havoc *that same love* has ultimately inflicted on their life.  There’s a whole novel lying in the space between these two songs, and both of them feel raw and intimate in the way they expose the pain and vulnerability and shame that shadow the act of allowing yourself to love someone.  TTPD was, in my opinion, rushed out too quickly, an experiment in presenting Swift’s emotions in a more unprocessed, uncrafted way to make a statement about art as a survival mechanism during emotional times, but an experiment that doesn’t entirely work; it truly could have benefited from another six to twelve months of cooking and a strong editorial pass.  To me, this song is a glimpse of what TTPD could have been if instead of being rushed to press in the middle of her ginormous tour for the sake of her own catharsis, it had been given the space and attention that Folklore/Evermore were given.  The Albatross is truly (like The Archer before it) an optimal wedding of Swift as a chronicler of her own interiority and Swift as a generationally gifted musical craftsman.

(I had a couple of also-rans, so shout out to Dua Lipa’s “Happy For You,” a song I really loved off an album I thought was kinda phoned-in overall, and Gracie Abrams’s “Tough Love,” through which I learned that there could potentially be something interesting about Gracie Abrams, someday.)

[gyuswhore]

Request: Hiiii love your writing! I was wondering if you could do a brothers best friend au where (any member of your choice) is the younger brother of someone from the 95z line who’s friends with you. Maybe where (member) likes you but you don’t like him back in that way? soft rejection? IDK its completely up to you! Thank you and sorry if I didn’t follow your rules. - @beabeanice

I FOUND IT OMG i thought i accidentally deleted your request but it somehow ended in my drafts lmao

I made it a Jeonghan/Vernon dynamic hope that's okay!!

masterlist

***

There was little that Jeonghan kept from you; mostly because you were his best friend, but also because he found it difficult to shut up about anything.

So when you both come home from college for Christmas break, it doesn't take too long for him to finally put two and two together when he notices what his little brother's behaviour truly meant all these years.

Hansol liked you.

It took him nothing but dragging you to an empty space in stitches, barely getting the words out through his bouts of laughter.

"Han! HAN! Listen to me, for goodness sake" You shake him by the shoulders and get him to stand up straight "You will not say a word about this to Hansol, do you understand? He doesn't need to hear your stupid jabs at him, leave him alone"

"Oh?" you're met with an inquisitive stare, "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Please, he's my little brother just as much he is yours, don't make this weird"

You left it at that, re-emerging in the gathering with a new filter for life. You had no idea how you were gonna handle this.

Hansol was treated all the same by you, a conscious decision you made to maintain nonchalance.

Despite that, you had begun to notice what Jeonghan was talking about, how minuscule changes in Hansol's behaviour were gone unnoticed by you. He would never meet your eyes, yet was always adamant that you stayed for dinner. How you'd find text messages from him asking for his brother, even though Jeonghan can find no missed calls or texts from him on his own phone.

One particular summer when you were home, Hansol announced he was going to a party while you and Jeonghan sat on the couch. It was fleeting, thinking nothing of it as you vaguely register the rev of his engine in the driveway.

It was way too late in the night when the doorbell rings. Both you and Jeonghan had passed out already, annoyed at whoever thought it was a wise decision to ring you at this hour.

Jeonghan could sleep through doomsday, so you reigned the energy to lift yourself off your awkward position on the couch before one of the sleeping parents came bounding down.

You exercised caution, peeking through the peephole as you find Hansol standing at the door.

Swinging it open, you notice very obvious wasted state and immediately ask him if he drove home.

"No, Seungkwan did, he's across the street" he mumbles, pushing himself off the edge and coming inside.

You drag him to the kitchen before he can go upstairs, attempting to give him a very resistant glass of water. He sips slowly, vaguely interested in the kitchen tiles.

"You're not gonna tell my parents about this, are you?"

You snort in response.

"You've been covering my ass for years, I'm not a snitch"

It's silent for a couple minutes as he takes forever to finish his glass of water.

"Can I tell you something?"

Smiling in response, you wonder if you could record whatever drunken confession he was about to make. For blackmail purposes, of course.

"You probably already know, but I guess you were gonna hear it from my own mouth at some point anyway"

He turns to you, suddenly sitting up straighter, a sudden air of maturity hits him, like it was a tool he needed to execute his next words.

"I've liked you for basically forever now. It was supposed to be a stupid crush on one of my brother's friends, again. But I guess you decided to stick around way into adult life"

He lets out a weak laugh before going back to the grimace he held. Empty and dejected despite the sick smile.

"Hansol..." you're not sure what you're supposed to say, added to his drunken-ness you decide to drop it.

"Let's get you to bed, hm?"

When he wakes the following afternoon, you're still in the house, helping out in the kitchen. It's silent except for the small talk you're making with his mom, as he grabs water and ice.

You find your opening when his mom leaves for a grocery run, not before patting Hansol on the cheek.

You can barely get a syllable in before he begins to speak.

"Listen about last night, I know I was drunk and stuff but...I meant it. And-"

"It doesn't have to mean anything Hansol. I get it, it happens, I'm not holding that against you. Besides, this doesn't change anything at all, you'll be seeing me just as much as you were before"

Shooting him a smile, you know what you're doing is indirect rejection. But one you deemed necessary, for your sake and his.

There's silence again as he mulls over the words you've just said to him.

"Yeah. Yeah, for sure"

There's another smile on his face, except this time it takes more courage to send.

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

Fic Stats Meme

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

One more thing I was tagged in by @materassassino, even longer ago, because these past two days I've just. Really been in the mood to clear out some of my drafts and do fun stuff?

Most Hits: Make A Wish (Young Avengers) - 17,527 hits

Wealthy scientist Nate Richards has been shot, and the legendary sapphire he owned stolen. Noh Varr, a private investigator, is hired—not to track down his killer, but to exonerate one of the suspects. It all gets much messier than he'd expected.

This is a Young Avengers noir AU that I wrote for the Young Avengers Reverse Big Bang and one of my very few attempts at first-person narration, and frankly its hit count mystifies me. I guess people re-read it a lot or something? I'm glad that it has staying power, I'm just puzzled.

Second Most Kudos: Lay That Heavy Trick On Me (Guardians of the Galaxy) - 1,248 kudos

The Guardians take a job robbing an expensive resort, and their floorplans indicate that the best access point to get to where they need to be is in the honeymoon suite. Which means that two of them need to play like they're married. Peter's not quite sure why he has to be one of the lucky newlyweds. Drax doesn't understand subterfuge. Gamora just keeps laughing at them and it's terrible.

This was actually my most kudos'ed story until fairly recently, when it was overtaken by hard work. It's a fun story--not my best, but it's in a much bigger fandom than I normally write for and it has a couple of super-popular tropes in it, so I suppose it's not so weird that it's up there stats-wise.

Third Most Comments: Gaiden: Neo-Heisei Kamen Rider (Kamen Riders W through Zi-O) - 133 comment threads

Not bothering with the summary because this one's a collection of short pieces, mostly from Tumblr prompts, and it's got 108 chapters. Some people comment on every piece they read! It's very gratifying!

Fourth Most Bookmarked: Lay That Heavy Trick On Me (Guardians of the Galaxy) - 297 bookmarks

"Heavy Trick" again! I mean, for real, this one used to be my leader in everything, for a while it was by far my most popular fic.

Fifth Most Words: Into The Black (Young Avengers/Firefly) - 44,537 words

Mercenary space captain Kate Bishop's got a loyal crew (mostly), an unreliable space ship (hey don't you say that Dawn's Archer is perfect), some unresolved anger issues (some faces that need grinding that is), and a lot of moral gray areas that she likes to play around in as she roams the galaxy, taking whatever jobs she can find. When her ship takes on some unusual passengers, however, everything goes completely off the rails.

This one--my tragic forever-unfinished Young Avengers/Firefly mashup--is genuinely surprising to me. I had no idea I'd written so much for it. I ought to be honest with myself and everyone else and update the tags/summary/chapter count to indicate that it's unlikely to ever be completed, but I haven't got the heart. And who knows, maybe at some point I'll rewatch Firefly and re-read YA Vol 2 and get inspired for it again. As I recall, the next chapter I'd had planned before I got distracted was the "Objects in Space" one, which was going to have Deadpool as the bounty hunter.

Fewest Words: various fandom poems

Discounting my few podfics, which naturally have low word counts because they have no words, I have 12 poems up on AO3, 9 of which are between 100 and 200 words. It doesn't seem pointful to link any specific one, they're all short.

---

Instead of tagging anyone I hereby encourage literally anybody who read this far and who has fic up on AO3 to do it, it's an interesting exercise. For me it's also very funny--I've been posting fic to AO3 since 2012, so with the way these questions are scaled they tend to duck around almost all of my most recent work and hit the older stuff that's been up longer and had more time to accumulate numbers. My AO3 account is a bed of oysters, and these are their little embarrassing pearls.

[bebethsas]

*giglgles* here’s a rant I’ve had sitting in my drafts for a bit now. I think now is the perfect time to post it. Enjoy Beth’s impassioned ramblings from ~1 month ago (and sorry in advance, I know that this is LONG):

“Chrissy…this is for you.”

 Holyjesusmotherof—

I am on the floor. I am dead. I am lying on my stomach, staring off into the middle distance with a look that can only be described as stunned disbelief, or just straight-up stunned. They would have been a f*cking powderkeg, wouldn’t they?

Dear mother of god, the way he says that, so softly, so reverently, I…

If they’d been given just a smidge more time, they (yes, they) would have loved each other so *fiercely*.

They would have been goddamn explosive. They would have (accidentally) rocked the school to its foundations and razed the HS to the ground (more like, they exist, and the high school tears itself apart because of their relationship’s existence). There is no doubt in my mind that if there was a sliver of a chance for one of them to bring the other back from the dead, they’d do it.

Like, the kind of love where you claw through brick and cinderblock with your bare hands to reach them, and you don’t notice until long afterwards that you’ve torn like…six of your nails, and your hands are bleeding. And sure, you have to keep your hands wrapped in bandages for the next couple of weeks while they heal, but who cares??? What does it matter?? They’re alive, you found them, they’re here. Like the minute one of them is in danger, the other person doesn’t hesitate, they just leap.

Like, yo Bangles, you wanna talk Eternal Flame? That’s an eternal flame. Like, a flame that keeps burning over centuries kind of “Eternal” flame; like the Olympic fire that they’re supposed to keep burning forever and ever (it doesn’t, but shhhhh), like a candle in a sea of darkness that against all odds never, ever goes out. That’s the kind of love I mean here.

Like, saying ‘I’ll find you in the next life,’ and then they do, kind of eternal flame.

Like, “death cannot stop true love, it can only delay it a little while,” kind of un-douseable flame. Not an uncontrollable wildfire, or even a small campfire. Just, this strong yet persevering little candle that provides comfort, joy, and light. Doesn’t hurt nobody, isn’t insatiably hungry or all-consuming, it just…is.

They are an example of true love, and no one can convince me otherwise. And I mean actual true love, like 2 puzzle pieces that naturally click together. It’s like they were made for each other, but it was an *accident*.

It’s not like a deity took a soul, split it in half, and then zotted these 2 halves down onto earth and went ‘here, now go find each other.’ It’s more like they created one soul, and then created another soul, and by sheer coincidence or serendipity or chance or whatever, these two line up perfectly, with no imperfections or jagged bits in the way.

They are Agatha and Oliver (I will elaborate on another post, christ this post got fuckin long).

Jesus christ how can I be so damn shook over one line, that it’s making me spiral and pull out analogies and references that are *deeply* buried in my brain??

I’m gonna end up writing a gottdamn thesis on (the way I view) their relationship, aren’t I?

…yes. Yes, I probably am.

  Anyway, that’s the tale of when I first saw the scene, and had to have a bit of a lie-down for a while, because thoughts were spiraling.

...ok, I wrote tags for this, then realized that I should probably put them in the body of the post too. So:

#no joke those 2 seconds of “Chrissy...this is for you” used to make me literally so weak, that I had to dramatically lean on furniture to stay upright. #the emotion #the goddamn EMOTION

#and Chrissy is such a sweetheart, #and Eddie was so kind and gentle with her...

#you know, you just KNOW, that she would have loved him with the fierceness of a lioness

#because when you’re sad, and scared, and lonely, and feel like none of your supposed ‘loved ones’ can or will listen--or even care (let alone ask) about how you’re doing

#and you are doing EVERYTHING you can just to continue on, #with seemingly ZERO support #to have someone come along and *help* you, #no questions asked, #no returned favors needed or asked for

#to have someone instantly *know* that you’re going through it, #respect your need for privacy, #and treat you so gently and reverently, #like you’re worthy of being loved???

(and again, not comment on the fact that you’re *clearly* going through it, because they respect that it’s probably not any of their business, and you probably don’t *want* to talk about it, and even though you *should* talk about it, they’re not going to push you)

#yeah. #even if they weren’t interested in you romantically, it’s too late #they have your heart now and forever

#genuinely kind people are not easy to find #don’t get me wrong they *exist*, #they’re not *rare*, #they’re just hella hard to FIND

#so once you DO find one?? #yeah you’re glomming onto that person like a barnacle and refusing to let go

[shanksxbuggy]

What would be the perfect shuggy ending for you and what ending is the most possible for them? If shanks dies before they make up I will die (I know he will die)

For a perfect shuggy ending their individual character arcs would have to feel emotionally resolved. First and foremost I want to see what Uta is doing in the present day, and I want to see her reunite with Shanks and have them be father and daughter again. With Shanks’ depression over their separation and his promise that she’ll always be his daughter no matter what, I can’t imagine a happy ending for him without reconciliation between them.

I’d like Buggy to feel accomplished in his own genuine achievements and form true bonds with Crocodile and Mihawk (wishful thinking).

I suppose a perfect happy ending would be where I get to see Buggy meeting Uta too. Also, Buggy and Shanks vacationing in Wano and meeting up with Momo and Hiyori.

Shanks and Buggy will definitely meet again before one of them kicks it. But it might not be until the very last battle they actually meet again. I don’t think either of them are really looking to make up with each other, Buggy made his decision back at Loguetown and Shanks respected it all these years. Now they’re both going after the One Piece in their own separate ways. They are more likely to bump into each other as rivals after the same goal, and it might end up being a comedic moment like in Marineford.

I have my share of theories/analyses on Shanks and Buggy that I keep in the drafts because they sound too insane.

Shanks has the same role as Ace where he basically exists for Luffy’s character growth. If Ace was the ideal big brother, Shanks is the ideal adult role model for Luffy.

For now Luffy still has this ‘safety net’ of chasing Shanks who is waiting for him. But for Luffy to truly grow up into an adult, he has to learn the uncertainty of living without that safety net to look forward to. That’s why Shanks either has to die or go someplace Luffy can’t reach so they never meet again. It’s a very classic trope in coming-of-age stories where kids grow up when they finally stop clinging onto the adults they relied on and let them go.

I’ve gotten this idea in my head that if Shanks doesn’t die, he will go to the moon.

Look, I don’t know why, but the moon is surely important. And I feel like Shanks is connected to the moon somehow.

Actually years ago when I thought about an ending, I thought Shanks would stay on Laughtale for whatever reason. Because he always seemed like the final hurdle and gatekeeper of that island. Shanks would say goodbye to Luffy, only it’s him watching Luffy sail away just like Luffy watched Shanks sail away in the beginning. Maybe Buggy can stay on Laughtale too because why not, you know he can’t keep up the Cross Guild facade forever so he’s gotta find some other fate.

But truly I don’t have a most likely ending in mind for them because I think the One Piece treasure and the ending is going to be something most people don’t expect.

If anyone has their ideas for a shuggy ending feel free to share. I could use better ideas than my ‘Shanks goes to the moon’ idea.

[knights-unwelcommentary]

Die by the mouth ch4, second draft

You take a detour to move your lusus from the parking space to the nearest holding facility, you pay for his stay with the cash you got from the dead olive blood you looted on your way to Sollux's place. You don't have it in yourself to risk his life against another round of unbeatable foes.

You hug him tightly before you leave him behind to regroup with Gamzee, who kindly offered to help you get to the Dark Carnival. Because he's a great friend after all and nothing like some double-crossing reprobates you know.

You take care to play the part of low blood servant walking respectfully behind his boss whenever you encounter people on your path.

"So… Your silly Faygo cult's the government's other government?"

The gravel under your strut pods crunches with every step which is nothing short of annoying.

"Yeah, but not really. If a government's meant to get at administratorial, then that's not what's all happening here."

"Okay? I’m listening."

"Man, there's not much to be getting my telling on about that business. The circus' run by clowns and that's all that can be motherfucking said on the matter. It's how She likes it."

You get the sense that he's trying to tell you something important, but it's hard to focus when there's a sizable chunk of his face swollen around the bee sting he still hasn’t bothered to remove.

"If the government's just an intermediary for your dark carnival to operate through. What does that make me, then?"

"Shrug. That may be the best question I ever did hear spoken."

"Ok. So helpful! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever a motherfucker wants it to." You're talking around in circles with this moron. "Don't think too hard about it, best friend, she's a wishy-washy bitch on a good day. The puzzle you’re looking to solve’s a heap of shredded bills for all we motherfucking know."

"I'll be the one to decide that."

"Honk."

"Yeah, keep honking away you cryptic nook wipe, it still beats having you high off your ass going on and on about miracles."

"…"

"Sorry, touchy subject. My bad."

“It’s chill.”

"Great, thanks. Uh… Where to?"

"Hm?"

"The Dark Carnival, you said you knew the way."

"Naw, brother. I said I'd take you there, there isn't a way to the Dark Carnival for your lowly bad self."

"Wow, I didn't take you for an elitist. Someone's smug now that his secret's out. Hey, are you feeling special yet?"

"Wouldn't be the only motherfucker."

"Got me there." You pause, this is kind of nice. If you let yourself forget why you're here you could almost believe you're just taking a serendipitous moonlit stroll with your best friend. Saddly you don't have the time to indulge on that phantasy."Let's get this show on the road already. If I have to wait out the sun in a circus tent, I'll do an acrobatic fucking pirouette off the handle and get hired on the spot."

"Soon. I've got to find it first."

"Don't tell me you've never actually been there." He’s never been there, the fucking piss head. "Serves me right for taking directions from someone's that’s more clown than troll. Well, no big deal. I'll just follow the coordinates. You still can come if you want."

"Found it."

You turn to witness the surreal view of Gamzee reaching his prong into a nothing something that's a fucktangle of etymological violations but has suddenly found itself bestowed the deepness attribute. With a well measured pull the world glitches the fuck out before you. Not that anybody except you and him seems to notice.

A tapestry of undecipherable symbols starts to unfold in a pattern you can't begin to comprehend until it dawns upon you that it's a page. A smattering of letters that form words that form sentences. A sloppy one at that.

Was it always there, your life scripted and choreographed since forever ago?

Or did it start last night? That moment your privacy felt weirdly intruded upon and never stopped feeling like it… was it not just your asshole neighbor snooping on you?

"There's more layers all beyond this one but this we're with's where we can cross the line to our destination."

You're momentarily rendered speechless by the snapping rubber band of your existential framework.

You must have opened your squawk blister half a dozen times looking like a doofus before anything came out.

This... *thing*, you muse, poses a threat to the capacity of any sane individual to give a shit. You feel like the implications are best left ignored and unacknowledged.

"Do we have to hop in or…?"

When your best friend produces a rift in reality out of thin fucking air after you've become an unwilling participant to so many shenanigans lately, there's no reaction you should have other than resignation that any new bullshit ass pulled turn of events might as well happen.

You copy along Gamzee's quick descent through the text until you encounter a very familiar line. A scene break.

It is, beyond a doubt, the stupidest thing you've ever seen.

-----

"We overshoot it. Back up a few."

"How do you know. Didn't you say you've never been here?"

"Not in this lifetime."

"Hrnnngh, very informative. Anything else you want to share with the class maybe? Should I expect a few hundred Gamzees huddling around ridding one-wheel devices two sizes too large crashing together in a massive orgy of fractured limbs forever?"

"Something to share... Right! Dark carnival law's a free for all. Anything goes so long as the rumpus doesn’t get at too heinouswise treasonous. Whatever's happening, it's allowed. Don't get too judgemental's what I mean."

"I can't begin to imagine the objectionable dump you're bringing me to."

"Their posse doesn't deal in my kind of miracles. You'll see." He extends his prong to offer you a bottle of Faygo, you captchalogue it without a second thought. Then you're being spit out onto solid ground again.

Once the nausea becomes bearable you shake yourself out of it and keep moving.

"And on that ominous fucking note, I'm going in. Wish me luck."

"Don't have to, brother. The Messiah's are cheering for you."

You're not sure why you left Gamzee behind, it just felt like something he wanted you to do? That's right, you have to keep your friends out of the empress' radar. You're doing well so far.

You take in the place, it's something for sure. The carnival spans the size of a small town so much that you can't see the other end from where you're standing past the entrance. Behind you there's an unmanned ticket booth gathering muck and a chilled out Gamzee waving at you in what his unpolished social acumen must understand as an encouraging gesture, but just looks in the same degree as stupid as it does flirty.

An obsidian plaque a few steps ahead reads "ioculator rex est", the words decorated with imperial red diamonds and gold threads. The frames of the tents resolve into a mesh of various kinds of high end plastics, giving them a colorful spiraling pattern.

You step forward and wariness drapes over you like a cold, sodden rag.

A shrill scream of agony rises from deep within a tent titled The Hive of Mirrors and goes on and on with no stopping in sight, until it cuts off abruptly accompanied by a sound like shattering glass.

You recoil at that but keep yourself going, you're *not* turning back with nothing to show for the trip.

The sun won't rise again for many hours, you note, then shrug off that thought. That doesn't figure among your other more pressing concerns related to finding yourself here, with the expertly crafted high tops and the luxurious looking shops, and the uncanniness that the backdrop lends the unusual configuration of shapes and forms and dried up gore everywhere you look.

Your careful steps lead you into the least imposing tent of the bunch, as soon as you cross the entrance the fortune-teller hides her palmhusk like you just caught her slacking off. The candlelights flicker unsteadily as a result.

"Hello? You're part of the staff here, right? I'm supposed to meet with your boss." No response. You keep pushing. "Do you know where I can find him?" She looks you over with a disturbing sharp gaze. She doesn't bother to stand from her seat.

You stare at each other for a long, uncomfortable while, you're relieved when she's the first to cave in.

"No invitation. No ticket. Yet you've found your way to us. A rubberneck perhaps?" the troll across from you giggles quietly like she's remembering something funny. She looks somewhere around five sweeps old but talks like an old hag with a bad case of the flu.

"The HIC sent me. I don't fucking know."

"A rubberneck is one that comes in, to inspect the proceedings. They don't much feel like talking when they come back out. But that's not quite what you are, I don't think. Would you care for a reading, visitor?" She's too chuffed to use that deck on you for it to not be a trap ready to lure in some schmuck lacking in common sense.

As you mull over your options you are abruptly overcome by a feeling not unlike the ones that plagued you constantly as the sweeps counting down to exile for you went down one by one and with them your naive hopes to earn your way up the ranks, social standing be damned. The ones that when put into words would sound something akin to "this is it" and "they know" and "it's over". It crushes you for all of five second until you start berating yourself for fucking up so badly at everything ever, and once you do the feeling settles into your regular fear -- just kicked up to eleven.

You don't flinch, and you don't crumble. You don't think you can, you're too familiar with it.

"No thanks, ma'am." You take your time checking around with your torso pillar half frozen, you find her name signed on some loose paperwork and file it down to use later for well-mannered points if you have to. "I don't need some cards to tell me my luck's a lump of dried out shit smeared under a cholerbear's muddy bottom. Really, it's a widely known fact back home."

"Very well." She sounds impressed, it confuses you a little. "Very, very well." She disappears, only to reappear behind you a second later and nudge you further into the tent. "You may wait here, if you wish. I'll let the wringmaster know, of your arrival."

And with that she leaves you on your own.

You're alone.

Holy shit what are you even doing here? What made you think this was a remotely good idea?! Oh god, this is bad. You need to get out, you have to fetch Gamzee and leave. Now!

Now...?

You can't move a muscle.

You can't do anything.

You're *stuck*.

Fuck.

The clock ticking overhead is all that's left to keep you company in the surreal space that your own thinkpan has become, and the feeling of terror doesn't wane. You're still breathless, paralyzed. You realize a little too late that you're beside yourself with fear.

...

Karkat remains in place stiff as a corpse, despite his better judgment.

By the time the fortune teller returns and points him in the direction where he can find his target he's got barely enough presence of mind to follow her instructions to the letter.

By the time the cheers of the crowd inside the big top shocks him back to his senses he's already being greeted by a different, even more menacing stranger.

He's stunned by the blinding lights for a second, so much so that he can barely distinguish the features of his interlocutor. He internally curses the sadistic heathen that decided the place had to be bright enough to make the sun look like a fairy light in comparison.

No other troll seems bothered. Weird.

It's glaringly obvious to anyone not fully absorbed by the spectacle that he is an outsider, which is why he's attracting more scrutiny than he's ever been at ease with.

The troll introduces himself, his words almost inaudible under the persistent honking taking place in the ring. Karkat's of half a mind to throw a tantrum about it, that is, until he realizes the jugglers under the spotlight are playing with actual rounded, squelching, sickly orange gander bulbs and he's reminded that he is still in immediate danger.

This high blood has an air of mischievous cruelty. On his head lays a carefully centered but noticeably worn out top hat and his makeup mimics the appearance of a sinister smile along with a goofy pair of arched brows fused together, a combination that pays homage to the sign displayed in the lapel of his, in Karkat's opinion, pretentious black suit.

"Word I've been told's that you're the Vantas guy who's gone and made a dare with her imperious consternation. What was it again?"

"Classified, is what it fucking was."

"Oh, I'd bet. Haha hahaha!"

"Are you The Grand Highblood or am I looking for a different clown."

"Minstrels, no, ha ha!. I am but the humble wringmaster of this miraculous little venture. I will take you to him when the show is over. Interrupting his entertainment would be mad unwise.

"Too bad we're not in season, not much to look at right now, just us and a few regulars keeping the lights on." Karkat gets the distinct feeling that he's being laughed at. He is not enthused by the notion. "Say. Maybe you can elucidate me on something. A favor for a favor, are you game?"

"As far as I'm concerned the empress is the one you want to charge for your hospitality."

"Your empress; Has little we don't already own and far less than she hopes, low blood. So if you'd be so kind."

"Ok. Hit me." He heeds Gamzee's advice and brings no attention to the wringmaster's disrespect against your shared ruler. He only gets slapped by a glove for his troubles.

"Haha, careful what you ask for!" An evil grin follows, "we're very literal minded people."

"..." He only realizes it's an order instead of a jab once the silence grows long and unbearable. "Yes, sir."

"What's your purpose?"

Karkat's face alights in recognition. This one he knows, he's seen this very same exchange in several period movies from back when adults were still allowed on the planet.

"Trolls as low as me don't have the luxury of a purpose," he parrots.

"Yes! Haha hahaha! As long as you remember that we'll play nice." He brings his hands into a fork shape and crosses them in opposite sides with a meaningful expression, although the meaning behind it is lost on Karkat. "If you stick around you might learn something interesting about *my* purpose," he adds, voice cheery, doused with toxic smoke.

With that, the wringmaster takes to the spotlight to introduce the next act, and Karkat's gets some room to think, he needs a plan if he's to get out alive. He searches around for anything he can use-- his sight lands on a troll that, like him, doesn't look too thrilled to be here, he strafes closer.

"Hey, hey you," he whispers -- not the kind of shout whispering he does when he wants to make a nuisance of himself.

"Who me?"

"No, I'm talking to the other scantily dressed girl the other tent over. Yes you."

"No one talks to me"

"Why, don't tell me they still think cooties are real."

"Because I'm the Nympho."

"Good for you?" She grunts. "Really, what's the big deal?"

"The Nympho, dumb dumb, is like this whole roleplaying thing where you're like part of the rites, but instead of doing cool stuff you have to stand there, look slutty and die sometimes."

"Oh well, sounds like a great gig," he quips.

"Heh, what do you know. At least I get to participate in ebbrithing. Not like the rest of the bimbos." Now that she mention's it, he hasn't seen any other girl performer. It completely slipped his notice.

"I'm just saying, you couldn't pay me to do that shit."

"Whatebbs. A gal learns to take any offer she can get in this field."

"Yeah, that's a great piece of wisdom coming from someone who acts as a prop for a living, it must be so tough to rub shoulders with the top brass." She rolls her eyes in response. "How's this for an offer. Tell me how to get through an audience in one piece and I'll owe you big time."

"Don't think you'll be off the hook soon as you get out. I'm making you pay and I'll track you down if I have to." A nod. "Just stand your ground without disagreeing with their shit. Carnies can take some shade, but they got no patience for a clueless sycophant. And whatebber you do, don't get deemed unfunny, you sound like a regular smart alec so... halfway there at least." It's not much but it's more than he got out of his friend earlier.

"Thank you, I can work with that."

"Wait, are you that guy from the HIC's announcement?" Karkat hums noncommittally. "And you're signing anon grey at your age? Wow, you're either really tough or shit out of luck."

"Oh god. You have no idea."

A vehicle races in through the wall, a scuttlebuggy whose innards have been trimmed into a bare floor with a steering panel.

It does a couple of turns at full speed around the available space and comes to a halt to unload its passengers, of which there are exactly five clowns and twenty six sea dwellers.

Once the wringmaster finishes the introduction he slides out of the way and gestures for Karkat to move to the back with him.

"This is going to get good," he whispers, giddy.

“I’m under express instructions to be a nosy shit so I'm going to have to ask.. Do you do these sea dweller roundups often?”

“Hmm, hard to say. We just grab the sneery ones when we happen upon them, --”

“Sneery!? All I reed was go on land!” The youngest among the group complains, having overheard their conversation. He can't be a season over three sweeps.

“AlL i dId WaS gO oN LaNd.” The flash of steel is all the prelude that the following decapitation warrants. The wringmaster's ceremonial hatchet claims another soul. “Maybe you should know better than to strut around our turf when you're so pestiferously jinxed." He then tilts his head towards Karkat. "Tie him to the wagon.”

Karkat tries to swallows back his immediate reaction. There'll be time to process it later, or there won't. But he still can't keep himself from responding, since the deceased doesn't seem inclined to.

“Funny thing how trolls can't help being unlucky.”

“Exahahahactly! I see you're already in with the wicked news," he raises his voice so the public may hear, "it's not what you do, or Lord forbid, what you believe! What lands you in hell's pit is none other than how you. were. made. and infidels were made to bleed, and to suffer. You can't help-it,

"The Messiahs have weighed the fate of the worthy against the rabble and their judgment's cast as the mother grub broods!" Silence, without looking at Karkat again he lowers his voice and repeats himself. "Tie him. To the wagon.” A threat goes unspoken.

Karkat hesitates, but there's not much else he can do. He takes one of the frayed ropes trailing behind the vehicle and does a thorough job on the corpse, first around the ankles, then around the waist. Making sure the body won't get dismembered once the vehicle departs.

He doesn't know what to do with the head though, after a bit of fumbling he settles on placing it under the sea dweller's elbow --like one would casually hold a ball-- and wrapping it all together with the rope.

The remaining sea dwellers cower in group, trying not to stand out in the slightest.

It's reminiscent to a crowd of low bloods accosted by a patrolling drone. The troll that looses their nerve first and splits from the group's usually the only one to meet the wrong end of a culling fork. Any absconding rogue is to be assumed guilty, of lacking mettle if nothing else.

But this is not a drone check up, Karkat wouldn't bet on any of them getting out alive no matter how much they stick together.

The wringmaster looks and laughs, and every so often he does a sudden movement that makes the whole mass of bodies flinch at once. Until he finally makes to pull something out of his pocket that turns out to just be a watch, and the motion is enough to prompt everyone to close their eyes and hold on for dear life. Once they collectively let out a relieved breath the hatchet is swung against them once again.

Several deaths follow in a blur of violence and insanity.

Karkat dutifully ties each body to the accursed wagon, content to check out of it all and let the events pass by him through a wide stream of blank numbness. He's playing a game of Bobbing for Grubs and he has submerged his head in the barrel indefinitely with the only purpose of no longer listening to the commotion outside.

As the expectation mounts higher, a couple of clowns pull some items into view to build the next scene.

A pile of pies is set neatly on the carapace of the vehicle; one of which finds itself on Karkat's hand a second later somehow.

The drum rolls like a hummingbird's wings, the spotlight squints its gaze to provide a better view, some breaths are held and some seats are strained as their occupants shift forward.

The order finally comes to throw, and the pie is launched with haste.

His aim is true and as such the humorous projectile lands on its intended target, a tall sea dweller with an embroidered starfish on each boot

Thud, splatter, squelch, the skull is revealed as the chitin and flesh and sinew melt away upon contact with what seemed like innocent cream on first glance, and then and there does begin the loud round of applause accompanied by a single euphoric exclamation of "he did it, the absolute madman!"

He can do nothing but stare and gape as his brain catches up to be met with yet another unwelcome shock. This, this wasn't supposed to happen. They are just pies, aren't they? There's a pungent smell in the air, something he doesn't recognize but has a cloyingly sweet, inorganic quality to it. The liquid burns and drips and the hair burns and drips and the clothes burn and drip away and down, down, down to the floor like a particularly unrealistic cartoon. He's not-- what happened. What's going on, did he do that? Did he kill that sea dweller, did they set him up? It must be, but is it really a deception if he knew the goal of the whole thing already? He knows those trolls-- they're done for. He's not really at fault here. He's just following instructions, it's them or him basically. Who would be naive enough to abscond, play dumb or resist.

It's funny, that's what he settles for. He chuckles with muted unease, he fell for one hell of a prank -- he has to find some hilarity in all of this and be a good sport. 'Don't be unfunny' he thinks to himself, repeating the words like a mantra.

Unaware of Karkat's internal turmoil, the sea dweller kneels and subsequently flops face down to the floor -- or, as it may, what used to be a face -- where he takes one last excruciating gulp of air. The flames only continue for a little longer before extinguishing all at once. Karkat idles close and prods at his... victim? as if looking for sings of life. He resolves to avoid a similar fate at all cost and snatches the sea dweller's sylladex with an exaggerated flourish.

"You know, you're pretty damn adorable Vantas," The Wringmaster laughs, placing a hand on Karkat's shoulder with all the casualness of an old time pal. "Where do you live?"

"Watch out, this one sneaks into people's blocks to nibble at them in their sleep. Freaky shit," warns one of the jugglers.

"Is that right? Haha Ha."

This exchange goes unnoticed by Karkat, focused as he is in burying it all as if it were just another embarrassing moment in a text conversation.

He looks at the violet blood in his hands, none of it is actually from his victim but there's something poetic about it.

Upon seeing Karkat so absorbed by the sight of his bloodied up hands directs one of his buddies to nudge him out of the ring while another is struck by the idea of sticking on him a note reading 'caution: wiggler's first mercide °<:o)'.

He barely notices the impromptu duel indulged by the Wringmaster between a knife wielding sea dweller and himself, he mocks and dodges with ease as if it were but another routine. Business as usual, probably. The sea dweller, severely injuried and humbled had been let go to tell his buddies that he shall come for them, one day.

Karkat's still absorbed by the blood in his hands as the final few of the kidnapped fishies meet their doom under the Great Milenko, master of the the unreal, and his retinue of ( artificially) night awakened undead.

The performance concludes with a slam poetry sermon about the man in the moon and the minstrels that will reap the rewards of his harsh whimsies, all to the rhythm set by several drummers with rainbow paint flying on their instruments without ever mixing together.

The audience trickles out in raucous mood as the lights begin to turn off and the clean-up staff drops by to do their thing.

"It's time," says the wringmaster in sobering tone, and the ring gives way to a set of gigantic underground stairs. He beckons Karkat to follow into the underground.

"Are you taking me to a second location? I mean, the first one was bad enough."

Silence.

The darkness of their descent shifts and morphs in the afterimage of the lights above, shaping itself into silent shrieking faces and desperate grabbing prongs and spirals resolving into spirals that resolve into spirals themselves. There's no reprieve to his senses for the grotesque sights engrave themselves behind his sight spheres as they close. splatters of blood cover the steps increasing in density the more he walks.

They enter a block or what appears to be an over-the-top home theater with a questionable sense of style that could only be described as concocted by clowns of a grim persuasion which may not be in full possession of a fucking grip on reality.

Near the farthest wall, in a grublooking screen, sits a grown man on a throne, his long horns are testament to his age, weighing him down enough to have put on some impressive neck muscles. He's wearing the kind of skull adjacent make-up you're only bound to see in your worst kinds of nightmares or a pedestrian edgy tattoo, his wild mane spreads outwards in wavy tendrils defiant of gravity. Despite the darkness his visage is not obscured in the slightest. No, it's more like shadows exude out of him with an aura of danger for the sole purpose of showcasing him in unmistakable clarity. His circle pattern clown pants and his sign shamelessly stamped on his crotch can do nothing to diminish the awe-inspiring hostile presence of this gladiator of a troll.

Where has Karkat seen that sign before?

The livestream has been going for over twenty million hours. It's true when they say the upper crust has all the time in the world.

"Grand Highblood, the witch's pet project has come to seek your blessing." The Wringmaster pulls him toward the screen by the scruff of his neck. "He's a solid one."

The troll in the screen leans forward, he then makes a series of signs with his hands, a faint noise like quick keyboard presses can be heard. After a while, some subtitles show up.

< Well met, low blood. Do you have any good jokes for me. >

"Yeah. I mean, I know a few." He flounders and mulls it over for a second. "For instance: Me."

The Grand Highblood raises an eyebrow.

"I'm the joke, it's me.

"Whenever I enter a block a laugh track starts playing. My lusus is so stupid he once dragged in a goddamn tree for 12th perigee eve. When I built my hive the whole neighborhood evicted itself and then sued me for single-handedly devaluing their properties.

"I won a talent show by default because all the competition got KO'd from second-hand embarrassment. The last time I took a shower the drain spent the rest of the day projectile vomiting. The only thing worse than my coding skill is my nub shriveling halitosis.

"I'M A DISGUSTING WORTHLESS BILGESACK ON THE GARGANTUAN TEAT OF A LABORING, LEPROUS MUSCLEBEAST AND MY ONLY QUALIFICATIONS ARE A MASTER'S STRATUM ON SCREWING UP IN EPIC PROPORTIONS WHILE FONDLING MY AUTOEROGENOUS SHAME GLOBES."

Karkat catches his breath, the Grand Highblood and the Wringmaster exchange a wordless look.

"Hahaha as I said. Solid."

The troll in the screen smiles wide and squeezes his nose twice, the screen dims until it's turned off, it then rotates exposing a wall fully covered in blood prints.

The wring master without any warning grabs Karkat's wrist to rubs his hand against the wall in a vigorous attempt of painting with the violet blood still on it. He's not content with the result, the blood has mostly dried on his chittin by now, neverheless he continues undeterred.

To Karkat's horror, a jagged stone on the wall catches on his palm, making it bleed slightly.

The Wringmaster notices something and turns it around to inspect the odd hue. There's an almost invisible haze quickly starting to fill the room, infecting Karkat with a fear that can overpower reason, that can numb the senses, that when abused can lead some trolls to commit unspeakable acts.

"You are..."

"Not on the spectrum, jackass." He spits, fully offended. He then growls, "Nobody told you?" With a sweep of his sickle, he gains some distance and takes to his long practiced fighting stance.

"Such things cannot exist," mutters the Wringmaster, face unreadable.

-

You are outside. At last.

You breathe in the cool dim season air. You look up at the star sprinkled sky. You feel the sand shift minutely beneath your shoes. It spells the end of one grisly trial and the possibility of getting to experience the next one. The hourglass can be turned but the memories of those be-felled grains remain.

You don't suppose they'll come looking for you, you're 'in the canon' after all, even if you're still not clear on what that is.

You wander aimless for what feels like hours. The screams from the carnival's attractions have long been replaced by some sparse sobs and gasps. Only background noise, you can easily pretend it's just the wind.

You keep coming back to your shocking discovery. Well, one of them.

Meenah didn't tell. Nobody knew about your blood except maybe three people. What's worse, in stupidly prancing around assuming the whole world knew, you gave your own fucking self away. Twice.

Your friends thought you had committed a galactic offense to be judged by her in person. Until you disclosed your mutation and they reacted the way they did. In real time.

Fuuuuuck. You're going to have to apologize.

You spy Gamzee typing away at his palmhusk. He nods at you and starts toward a cotton candy stand, walking slow for you to catch up.

Something's off. Something's deeply wrong with Gamzee, it's been worrying you for a while but you dread finding out what it is.

Everything from your stint inside the big top begins to rush back to you as you close the gap. You struggle to keep your breathing steady. It feels like you're shoving your way into a wall of steaming water.

"It's all fake, their slammed poetry and their mirthless mess a lies are nothing. If those unfunny motherfuckers took a peek at the truth they'd claw their blasphemous sight bulbs from their sockets and weep with their grape jelly dripping down their greased mugs."

"I couldn't give less of a shit about schisms of faith or your freaky murder cult getting carried away with a hefty dose of misinformation. I-- Gamzee, I think I died. I'm freaking the fuck out."

"Hmm? Now that's something I can get my belief on."

"I must have overdosed. Or maybe there was poison in the Faygo? No way, the cup never left my sight. We were having a gross murder party and then poof. Nothing. Next thing I know I'm waking up in a freezing batch of slime, I climbed out and there was a lot of whooping? Whooping's good right?"

"Means come back soon in contex, best friend."

"Okay, yeah. I thought so. The wringmaster gave me this and shoved me out the door... " You point at the basket full of rotting fruit.

"I heard some noise that they do that sometimes. Though at usual is all wicked manners of permanent dying. Can I get a gander up on those?"

"Go ahead"

"Yeah, you should get rid of these bitching bunch of little troublemakers."

"First day in office and I'm already being framed of corruption, this is going to be a long term."

"HONK honk"

---

TA: I can't hear him anymore, what's going on over there

TA: Is he okay?

TA: Gamzee

TC: Yeah, I'm okay

TA: No, not you, kk

GC: Gamzee, how's Karkat?

TC: I dunno. Haven't seen that motherfucker in a while

TC: Maybe he kicked the motherfucking wicked shit

TC: Isn't it what goes down when ones clock's running out of tock?

GA: You're not with him

GA: Why did you go together if not to keep an eye on him

TC: He can handle himself

TC: Besides I thought that was the plan

TC: If some motherfucker's meant to get at our good bro Karkat it's not us what's going to all be stopping that from happening

GA: When you put it that way, the plan doesn't sound very

GA: Sound

GA: Or benign for that matter

TC: Hold on, procuring snacks

CA: Snacks? You have to go check on him what if something happened

CA: He's not answering.

TA: Fuck it, I'm on my way

GC: Don't

GC: If you can't hear him anymore then that's it

GC: He's gone

AG: I can't believe he actually

AG: I mean, there has to be something we can do

AG: Aradia can hear ghosts, we could hunt his down and bring him back. Right?

AG: Right????????

CA: And then what? He would still be dead wouldn't he?

CA: I knew we should have taken him away when we could

AG: Excuse me for not being all in for kidnapping the loudest guy in town

AA: He was set to die soon anyway

AA: One can escape fate only for so long

CC: Whale, what do we do now? It'd be nice to at least have closure or somefin.

AT: I would suggest reminiscing but um, he erased himself from pretty much everything we could have used for that.

GC: He did do that, huh.

[CG has been invited to board]

[CG has joined memo]

CG: Hey, guess what

CG: I'm still alive

CG: Moreover, I plan to outlive each and every fucking one of you bastards

TC: Man, that's not what you said earlier.

CG: Shut up, don't ruin this for me

TC: Oh, alright.

TC: Is any motherfucker looking to buy some embezzled beetle grubs?

CT: You are both a discredit to our people and should have been terminated upon conception

[AC has banned CT from responding to memo]

[princepestilence]

NYR: June in review.

Post-June horoscope: "Performance without rehearsal. Body without alterations. Head without premeditation. I know nothing of the role I play. I only know it’s mine. I can’t exchange it. I have to guess on the spot just what this play’s all about. Ill-prepared for the privilege of living, I can barely keep up with the pace that the action demands. I improvise, although I loathe improvisation. ... I’m standing on the set and I see how strong it is. The props are surprisingly precise. The machine rotating the stage has been around even longer. The farthest galaxies have been turned on. Oh no, there’s no question, this must be the premiere. And whatever I do will become forever what I’ve done.”

A little late to it this month. This year is disappearing very fast. I don't think any other year has gone quite so quickly? But I suppose a lot is happening all the time, so maybe that's part of it. For example:

Decorate room. I've put a lot of art up above my desk now, which I love so much. It's made it such a bright spot in my room when I wake up, or when I'm doing things (such as this right now) at my desk, and I look up and see all this that I love. There's still space for more, so I will keep adding to it. .

Thesis work. I've gotten a lot done, which feels good. Especially since I spent a week totally out of it from a cold. That was time down the drain, and very annoying, but I can still catch up and stay on track so it's fine. .

Go on a day trip. A fun little break in routine! I saw a handsome tree-kangaroo up close and the devils decided to be active while I was there, which was an unexpected delight. .

See family + friends. Always more to see, but it's nice to see the ones I can when we get the chance. .

Played Dread for the first time. The game unfortunately did not go great (the friend GMing it was inexperienced, didn't really read / understand the rules and mechanics, and I think is maybe too much into D&D in a way didn't mesh with the goals of Dread) -- but the whole time it reminded me how much I love GMing for the game and how badly I would like to do that again, so I'm going to do that as soon as I can once the dissertation is submitted. .

See some live music. The band played mum's funeral song as their finale, which in my heart I always knew they would. She would have loved it. .

Second work anniversary. Time goes on! It's been two years since I started at my "new" job, so now it is just my job, and I've found my feet with it and started making it fit me instead of the other way around. I am very very happy here.

In July, I will:

Complete the full final draft of my thesis. I'll be sending this draft to my supervisor on Sunday 21 July -- so pretty much two weeks from now. I still feel so far from where it needs to be, but I am electing to be energised by this anxiety instead of paralysed. I am also so so excited to be so close to really and truly finished. The video-games call to me. The time with my friends calls to me. The fiction manuscripts I want to write call to me. They are all calling to me and I am yelling back I know! I know! I'm trying, god, why don't you do this and see how long it takes you. But alas. I am to blame for all of it, all of the time. .

Facilitate the writers festival panel. Speaking of things that take up my time which I am to be blamed for: in a week, I'll be hosting a fun panel at a writing festival and talking to some authors about fairytales. No-one made me do this. I was asked to do it and I said yes, and so have effectively wiped a valuable day of thesis work off the calendar. On the bright side, I like to be paid to do things I already want to do. .

Doing right by my health. Sort of, anyway. I have a general check-up booked for later this month, and yesterday had my first meeting with someone to talk about grief and all that. More to do on this front, of course, but when isn't that true.

[lainscreentime]

sigh will i really be in a long term relationship forever? lol i saved this as a draft n i still wonder about it, it’s not bc i’m unhappy bc i’m actually really happy and lucky i suppose

he said to me “sometimes i wonder why someone who’s still so young and can do anything they want in life chooses to stay with me” :/ i wonder the same thing sometimes, but i usually don’t feel strong enough to do whatever i want in life. one night later i wrote a love letter to him expressing my commitment bc it’s true i’ve never ever felt this way w anyone before, and even if it’s scary our love will be enough to persist forever … how it’s a privilege to grow up together.. n how for me it really isn’t settling bc idk how i got here. there’s so many fucked up people in life that would kill me to gain what i have and he is my refuge from all of them, bc unlike them i know i deserve to be loved

[keiraleth]

Books Read in 2022 (Part II/V)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here are all the books I’ve read in 2022.

RATING: 5/5 = All-Time Favorite | 4/5 = Loved It | 3/5 = Liked It | 2/5 = It’s Complicated | 1/5 = Not For Me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Forever War by Joe Haldeman

Read in German | Rating: 5/5

“Tonight we're going to show you eight silent ways to kill a man.”

Summary: The Earth's leaders have drawn a line in the interstellar sand—despite the fact that the fierce alien enemy that they would oppose is inscrutable, unconquerable, and very far away. A reluctant conscript drafted into an elite Military unit, Private William Mandella has been propelled through space and time to fight in the distant thousand-year conflict; to perform his duties without rancor and even rise up through military ranks. Pvt. Mandella is willing to do whatever it takes to survive the ordeal and return home. But "home" may be even more terrifying than battle, because, thanks to the time dilation caused by space travel, Mandella is aging months while the Earth he left behind is aging centuries. 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Read in English | Rating: 4/5

“How were you supposed to change - in ways both big and small - when your family was always there to remind you of exactly the person you apparently signed an ironclad contract to be?”

Summary: Malibu: August, 1983. It’s the day of Nina Riva’s annual end-of-summer party, and anticipation is at a fever pitch. Everyone wants to be around the famous Rivas: Nina, the talented surfer and supermodel; brothers Jay and Hud, one a championship surfer, the other a renowned photographer; and their adored baby sister, Kit. Together, the siblings are a source of fascination in Malibu and the world over—especially as the offspring of the legendary singer, Mick Riva. By midnight the party will be completely out of control. By morning, the Riva mansion will have gone up in flames. But before that first spark in the early hours before dawn, the alcohol will flow, the music will play, and the loves and secrets that shaped this family’s generations will all come bubbling to the surface.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan

Read in German | Rating: 4/5

“Families are messy. Immortal families are eternally messy. Sometimes the best we can do is to remind each other that we're related for better or for worse...and try to keep the maiming and killing to a minimum.”

Summary: After a year spent trying to prevent a catastropic war among the Greek gods, Percy Jackson finds his seventh-grade school year unnervingly quiet. His biggest problem is dealing with his new friend, Tyson--a six-foot-three, mentally challenged homeless kid who follows Percy everywhere, making it hard for Percy to have any "normal" friends. But things don't stay quiet for long. Percy soon discovers there is trouble at Camp Half-Blood: The magical borders which protect Half-Blood Hill have been poisoned by a mysterious enemy, and the only safe haven for demigods is on the verge of being overrun by mythological monsters. To save the camp, Percy needs the help of his best friend, Grover, who has been taken prisoner by the Cyclops Polyphemus on an island somewhere in the Sea of Monsters--the dangerous waters Greek heroes have sailed for millenia--only today, the Sea of Monsters goes by a new name...the Bermuda Triangle. Now Percy and his friends--Grover, Annabeth, and Tyson--must retrieve the Golden Fleece from the Island of the Cyclopes by the end of the summer or Camp Half-Blood will be destroyed. But first, Percy will learn a stunning new secret about his family--one that makes him question whether being claimed as Poseidon's son is an honor or simply a cruel joke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Thrawn: Alliances by Timothy Zahn

Read in English | Rating: 5/5

“She’ll recognize my style,” Anakin said. “And this is the first place she’ll come looking for me.” “Is falling into enemy hands part of your style?”

Summary: "I have sensed a disturbance in the Force." Ominous words under any circumstances, but all the more so when uttered by Emperor Palpatine. On Batuu, at the edges of the Unknown Regions, a threat to the Empire is taking root—its existence little more than a glimmer, its consequences as yet unknowable. But it is troubling enough to the Imperial leader to warrant investigation by his most powerful agents: ruthless enforcer Lord Darth Vader and brilliant strategist Grand Admiral Thrawn. Fierce rivals for the emperor's favor, and outspoken adversaries on Imperial affairs—including the Death Star project—the formidable pair seem unlikely partners for such a crucial mission. But the Emperor knows it's not the first time Vader and Thrawn have joined forces. And there's more behind his royal command than either man suspects. In what seems like a lifetime ago, General Anakin Skywalker of the Galactic Republic, and Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo, officer of the Chiss Ascendancy, crossed paths for the first time. One on a desperate personal quest, the other with motives unknown . . . and undisclosed. But facing a gauntlet of dangers on a far-flung world, they forged an uneasy alliance—neither remotely aware of what their futures held in store. Now, thrust together once more, they find themselves bound again for the planet where they once fought side by side. There they will be doubly challenged—by a test of their allegiance to the Empire . . . and an enemy that threatens even their combined might.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the End of Everything by Marieke Nijkamp

Read in English | Rating: 3/5

“Lockdown might be great if we all lived in a future with replicators and emergency medical holograms and shit, but we're not there yet.”

Summary: The Hope Juvenile Treatment Center is ironically named. No one has hope for the delinquent teenagers who have been exiled there; the world barely acknowledges that they exist. Then the guards at Hope start acting strange. And one day...they don't show up. But when the teens band together to make a break from the facility, they encounter soldiers outside the gates. There's a rapidly spreading infectious disease outside, and no one can leave their houses or travel without a permit. Which means that they're stuck at Hope. And this time, no one is watching out for them at all. As supplies quickly dwindle and a deadly plague tears through their ranks, the group has to decide whom among them they can trust and figure out how they can survive in a world that has never wanted them in the first place.

[tomhardysteeth]

Tom Hardy’s characters ranked by how much I want to smash them

1) James Keziah Delaney - would absolutely let this dirty grungy man tear me apart literally and spiritually

2) Reggie Kray - please strip me of my sanity and ruin my fucking life

3) Bob Saginowski - sweet soft man in everyday life, absolute animal in bed

4) Max Rockatansky - worth the STD to smash this skinny small man in the back of the war rig

5) Eddie Brock - would absolutely dom the shit out of him

6) Forrest Bondurant - see #5 (Eddie Brock)

7) Tommy Conlon - would like him to punch me in the fucking face before fucking me

8) John Fitzgerald - honestly keep the bandana on and try not to be racist and i will still smash

9) Eames - is gay, but i am also gay, so ???

10) Bronson - big beefy man, mustache good

11) Alfie Solomons - is 150 years older than me but looks good with the face scar so honestly i’d consider it

12) Bane - too large no thank you

[etsuven]

uhh totally unbiased but xiao would look GORGEOUS in a skirt. have you sEEN that mans waist holy shit homedawg omg. xiao (〃ω〃)

omg you’re so right <3 anyways here’s smut i need to write about this- sorry that i answered this so late i had it in my drafts for like forever but never finished it until today skhdjsjsksm

rating: smut ofc

this takes place in a modern au maybe??? idk dhskndjddn i just wanna see him in a skirt. also maybe ooc xiao!

there’s a lot of slow teasing in this because i love slow teasing ugh the tension

“this… this is embarrassing.” xiao fiddled with his outfit, staring at himself in the mirror as he contemplated changing before you came home.

around two weeks ago, you had brought up how you thought boys wearing skirts was pretty hot. ‘easy access’ you called it. xiao felt himself blush as he remembered the rant you had.

being someone who wanted your attention more than he dared to admit, xiao decided that the best choice would be to dress in one and let you indulge in your fantasies. but what he didn’t realize was that it would be super embarrassing.

of course, since xiao had told you nothing of his plan, you had no idea what was waiting for you when you stepped through the door of your shared apartment. it was quiet, which wasn’t that unusual, but you still yelled out for him in case he was home. (you didn’t want him to think you were an intruder!)

“xiao, sweetheart! i’m home!” you took your time at the front of the door, doing whatever you needed to do before finally stepping into the main area. a small and muffled ‘i’m here’ echoed through the home, and you found yourself wondering why there was a bit of strain to it. you hoped he wasn’t doing something he wasn’t supposed to…

placing your bag next to the couch, you began to walk towards the main bedroom, your steps slower than usual just in case he had to make himself presentable. you slowly opened the door, expecting to see xiao covering himself up or something…

but instead you were met with a prettier sight.

xiao was sitting on the bed, looking to the side with a furious blush on his face. his hands were balled up beside him, and you found your eyes trailing lower from the cropped white shirt to his waist and the pretty skirt that clung to it.

“xiao, what…” you trailed off in disbelief, trying to ignore the ache that had suddenly appeared in between your legs. your boyfriend glanced at you, his eyes widening as he began to notice the effect he had on you.

“you mentioned something about guys wearing… skirts,” his legs unconsciously closed, thighs squeezing together as the situation dawned on him. thanks to the thin fabric he was wearing, you could do anything to him… strangely, he wanted that. “so i bought one… do you like it?”

with a quick nod, you walked towards him, placing a warm hand on his cheek before leaning down to connect your lips. the kiss started off sweet at first- a simple ‘i missed you’ after coming home from work.

it would have gotten more passionate if you hadn’t pulled away, not wanting to spoil the main surprise for yourself.

“come here, love.” climbing on the bed, you gestured for xiao to come closer, laughing slightly as he weakly wobbled over to you. he climbed on top of you, one leg on each side before finally settling on your lap.

you gave him another quick kiss before leaning over to the nightstand and pulling out his favorite toy, a vibrator that made him plead and beg every time you used it. xiao’s thighs tensed a bit around you, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see the fabric of his skirt twitch a bit. was he even wearing anything under that?…

placing a hand on his chest, you gently pushed him down, taking note of how your lover made sure to keep the skirt down. “i’ve seen you naked many times now…” you commented, a teasing smile on your face.

xiao rolled his eyes, choosing to stay quiet. the blush from earlier was still on his face, though it wasn’t as prominent as it was earlier. suddenly, your hand was on his thigh, and he found himself tensing at the feeling.

“ah, sorry.” you rubbed up and down his leg, occasionally squeezing at the flesh. each time you got closer to where xiao really wanted your hand, but without fail, you would manage to stop just before the area.

‘what a tease.’ he thought.

you always did this, so he should be used to it. even when the two of you first started having sex, you would always find a way to tease the poor man- whether it be edging him before he ever got to cum, or placing lingering and light touches upon him and walking away before anything ever came of it.

not that he didn’t like it, he just wanted you to get to the point sometimes. luckily he didn’t have to wait that long today.

your fingers grazed the hem of his skirt, stopping just before the sensitive skin of his upper thigh. “can i?” and like always, you asked for permission before doing anything else. xiao found himself nodding quickly, his breaths quickening once you finally went past the thin barrier.

the next few minutes went by slower than he liked. while you did end up touching his cock like he wanted, it was only a few strokes before you took your hand off of it and continued with your teasing. xiao felt a while leave his throat, squirming when both of your hands instead found themselves on his pretty waist.

you made sure to slowly drag your nails up and down his sides, alternating between the front and back of his body. he pleaded and begged for you to just touch him, but you blissfully ignored his pleads. for now, at least…

once you were satisfied with your teasing, you flipped up xiao’s skirt, grinning at the cute little gasp he let out. his cock was fully hard at this point, twitching slightly with precum leaking out of the tip. the head was a pretty shade of pink, and you found yourself licking your lips at the sight.

grabbing the vibrator from beside you, you tapped it against xiao’s tip, watching as he flinched at the light contact. “hmm.. you’ve gone a bit far from me, baby.” and indeed he had. during the attack on his waist, xiao had managed to wiggle a few inches away from your body. that wouldn’t do…

grasping his thighs, you pulled him closer to you, laughing at the yelp he let out at you suddenly manhandling him. smiling slightly, you flipped the switch and once again placed the toy against his cock, watching in satisfaction at the pretty arch he made from the contact.

“hah- oh, fuck!” xiao squeezed his eyes shut, his arms flying out in an attempt to grasp onto something. and that something happened to be your thighs that his back was now resting on. little whimpers left his mouth in his attempts to keep his moans in, and occasionally his thighs would squeeze around your hips when he found a particular vibration satisfying.

you watched in awe, eyes wandering around his body. he was so pretty, honestly. pretty lips stuck in an ‘O’ shape, pretty eyes and eyelashes brimming with tears, pretty waist on display for you and only you to touch. goodness, what did you do to deserve him?

“(y-y/n), please! it’s too much, i can’t-!” feeling yourself smile, you glanced down at his hips, taking note of how he had started to grind against you. the thing is- with xiao, vibrators had always seemed to be a bit too much for him. he could handle handjobs and blowjobs, but as soon as it came to using a vibrator, he always seemed to be more sensitive.

but even though he says the toy is too much, he always seems to pick it whenever it’s time for you to play.

“it’s too much, hmm?” xiao flinched at the teasing tone in your voice, forcing his eyes open in order to look at your face. you dragged the vibrator up, brushing it against his tip and watching as he dragged his hips further into you. “it’s too much, and yet- you’re still grinding against me.”

xiao’s eyes widened as he looked away in embarrassment. in his defense, he couldn’t help it! the vibrations were so strong, and it didn’t help that you set it to his favorite pattern. so technically it was your fault! but he knew better than to say that to your face.

“i know but-“ there was a light squeeze at your thighs. you placed a hand on his, squeezing back in reassurance. “it feels so good, and i’m gonna cum!”

removing your hand from his, you placed it on his cheek, rubbing at the soft flesh. they were soft, and even a bit chubby in some spots. you always found it cute. “are you going to be a good boy and cum for me?”

your lover nodded, his dark hair moving slightly- save for a few sweaty strands that were stuck on his forehead. a little noise of acknowledgment left his mouth, and you deemed it enough to finally give him what he wanted.

wrapping your hand around his cock, you began to jerk him off along with the vibrations. xiao began to wiggle again, giving up on holding back his moans. his hand grabbed at your wrist as if he were trying to get you to stop, but you continued.

you took note of his body language as you teased his cock. his lower stomach and thighs were tensing, and his head was thrown back in pleasure. there was an intense blush on his face, and the redness seemed to spread past his neck and down his shirt.

suddenly, his hand flew up to clutch at the sheets beside his head, and his thighs began to tense around your hips. “s-shit, i’m gonna!-” his back arched as he moaned loudly, cum spilling out of his pretty cock.

you continued to touch him through his orgasm, watching in amusement as he squirmed and whimpered at the slight overstimulation. once you felt that you had teased him enough, you turned off the vibrator- which made him let out a sigh of relief.

“c’mere, sweetheart…” you placed your hands on his hips, helping him sit up and lay down next to you. he was panting softly, covering his pink face with his hands. your eyes trailed down his body. there was cum on his stomach, and some of it had even managed to reach the hem of his shirt.

the thought of cleaning him up in a certain way graced your mind, but you figured that he had had enough teasing for the day. “you okay?” you began to run your fingers through his hair, smiling as he leaned into your touch.

“i’m fine, just a bit tired…” he whispered, unconsciously nuzzling into the crook of your neck. usually he was too embarrassed to do something like this, but maybe his mind was too foggy from the orgasm to really rationalize what he was doing. either way you didn’t mind.

you laid a small kiss upon his shoulder before sitting up. xiao grabbed at you, a whimper leaving his mouth at the loss of warmth. you resisted the urge to aww at him, instead comforting him with your words. “i’m going to get something to clean you up with, okay? i’ll be right back.”

once xiao acknowledged what you were doing, you went to grab some materials. a wet cloth to clean him, a bottle of water, and a change of clothes. you came back a minute or so later, taking the time to make sure he was all clean and changed before laying back down next to him.

he once again buried his face in your neck, causing you to laugh at the feeling. you stayed quiet for a bit, not wanting to break the comforting silence paired with the sound of your lovers soft breathing. but then you felt lips moving against your neck.

“…love you…”

your eyes widened in shock. xiao usually wasn’t the type to say things like this first. you were normally the one to initiate things. a soft laugh left your lips, and you grabbed at xiao’s hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing slightly at his hand.

“i love you too, xiao….” the two of you then continued to lay in silence, wrapped in each others arms as you finally fell asleep…

[huggybug]

promises are broken like a stitch is - luke hughes

word count: 1.8k words

“Did you miss us?” Thomas grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder as Matty shook his head at his friend. Thomas Bordeleau was one of your closest friends; He played with Luke for a year in the NTDP and you ended up hanging out with the team but more specifically Thomas and Matty a lot. They were both back in Michigan, ready to head up to the Hughes lake house but had come a few days early to see you.

“Boston is actually nice… peaceful really” You teased. It was your favourite thing to do, talk about how much you loved going to BU and Boston in general just to get under the boys’ skin. Matty was usually in support of it until you told them that you were a BU hockey fan, that didn’t sit well.

“Yeah right, you wish you came to Ann Arbor” Matty grinned and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Matty” You were listening to their stories about their first NHL experiences when Thomas’ eyes went wide at something behind you.

“Well shit, look who’s back” You turn to see all three Hughes brothers walking up to your table, Jack with a huge grin while Quinn and Luke are both sporting much smaller smiles. Your heart pounds at the sight of Luke. You’re frozen in your seat as the boys all greet each other. Quinn gives you a quick hug while Jack is talking to Matty and Luke stays quiet between his brothers.

“Y/n! How are you? How’s Boston?” Jack asks as he moves to your side, pushing Luke out of the way.

“I’m good, really loving it up out there” You grin. The Hughes brothers were always good friends of yours which made your break up with Luke even more complicated since your lives were so intertwined.

“Lukey, don’t be rude” Thomas grinned and you glared at him. You and Luke were both uncomfortable and Thomas knew he was only making it worse.

“Hey Y/n” Luke mumbled and you returned an equally quiet hello.

“How long has it been since you two saw each other?” Thomas asked, continuing the conversation and stirring the pot as usual.

“When she threw the ring at me” Luke answered quietly and your chest squeezes, thinking back to the day of your breakup.

“We had a plan!” Luke exclaims, clearly frustrated with where this conversation was going. You had just broken the news that you had decided to accept the admission offer for Boston University over Michigan.

“You had a plan Luke” It was never a discussion, one day Luke had informed you of his plan and laid it all out and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that there were still other things to be considered.

“I thought you wanted to stay together and go to school together” You weren’t against it, you did apply to Michigan after all but it was honestly your safety school. BU had a much better program and you would be crazy to give that opportunity up because of your relationship, something you though Luke would understand.

“And then what? You won’t be there for the four years, you’ll be gone after what? One year, two? The. what am I supposed to do?” It was clear to you that he hadn’t thought it all through.

“I don’t know, come to Jersey with me” He said seriously and you scoffed.

“I’m not following you around the country Luke! I have to make something of myself, I can’t just be dependent on you forever”

“You can though, just come to Michigan and we can figure it out” Luke reached for your hand but you pulled away quickly.

“Oh my god Luke! Do you not get it?” You were frustrated that he didn’t seem to understand what you were getting at.

“I just… don’t know why you’re so desperate to leave me”

“Not everything is about you” You grumbled.

“So it this it? Are we done?”

“I guess we are”

“But… the ring” Your gaze dropped to the promise ring Luke gave you on your two year anniversary, the night of his draft. It was at the end of the night, after a few too many drinks that Quinn had snuck you both; Luke claimed that if you weren’t so young, it would be an engagement ring which made you ridiculously giddy. However, that was also before you knew how your college situation would pan out and definitely before you knew Luke would act like this when he found out. Looking down at the simple diamond ring that had been on your left ring finger for months now, you weren’t sure how to feel. “You can’t break that, we promised each other”

“You broke it first Luke” The one promise you made to each other was to always give one another a fair chance. Whether it was defending themselves or explaining something, you both deserved a proper chance. Luke basically turning down your college choice was a major infraction of that promise.

“I love you. Don’t leave me like this Y/n/n” Your breathing was even as you slipped the ring off your finger and twirled it in your hand.

“Y/n…” Luke warned and your eyes flickered up to him. He looked hurt and while you felt bad, you couldn’t justify continuing a relationship with someone who expects you to drop anything and everything for him at any given time. “You don’t want this, come on we can talk about it more. Just go to Boston and we can see what happens in a couple years”

“It doesn’t matter when we talk about it Luke, i will never uproot my life for my boyfriend” You pause for a moment, making sure this is really what you want before flipping him the ring. He wasn’t expecting it, you can hear the ring clatter onto the floor but you don’t bend down to collect it, instead grabbing your bag and walking to the door. Luke’s standing speechless in the kitchen, in disbelief that you really just left and threw the ring he brought his brothers along to pick out for you

“I didn’t throw it” You defended awkwardly, feeling everyone’s eyes on you.

“Maybe you two should catch up then. The boys can stay while you go talk Y/n/n” Thomas smirked and that was when you realized, this was a setup. You cussed out Thomas in your head but kept your expression motionless. Matty looked around the table wildly, realizing that Quinn, Jack, and Thomas were all in on this plan.

“I don’t think-” You started, trying to get out of it but the boys were persistent.

“Go, we’ll be here” Jack all but pulled you out of the chair and shoved you out towards the door with Luke following close behind. You weren’t even sure what to say, Luke had trailed you outside and you two were standing in awkward silence.

“I didn’t put them up to this” Luke breaks the silence first and you laugh.

“Yeah I didn’t think you did. I wouldn’t expect you to want to talk to me after what happened” You couldn’t even meet his eye, choosing to stare at the pavement near his feet. “Is that..?” Something shining on his left pinky finger caught your eye. He raises his hand to look at before turning it around for you to see, a blush already coating his cheeks.

There on his smallest finger was your promise ring, tiny diamond glistening in the sunlight. “You still have it?” You finally looked up at him and while Luke seemed embarrassed, you felt a familiar wave of affection wash over your body.

“I’ve worn it since that day” Luke said softly. “Well… I take it off during games but other than that” You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t understand why he still had it let alone wore it almost everyday.

“Luke…”

“I loved you Y/n. I mean shit, I still love you. I was so stupid to let you go and to expect you to follow my plan without having a say” You could feel the sincerity in his words and as long as you’ve known him, you could never tell him no.

“What are you saying Luke?”

“Can we try again? I know it was unfair and… I don’t want us to end like that. We deserve another chance” You bit the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to do anything but jump into his arms screaming yes.

“I’m finishing my degree in Boston” You may come off as stubborn but you had to make sure all the cards were laid out before even thinking of getting back together with him.

“Then I’ll fly in to be at your graduation ceremony” Luke said simply.

“It’ll be long distance for at least three years and that’s the minimum”

“I’ll have NHL money baby, I can fly out to see you” Luke smirked and you chuckled a little which made him smile widely.

“You better invite me to the lake house Lu” He knew the reappearance of the nickname you had used for him throughout your relationship was a good sign. Your smile grew even bigger when Luke wrapped his arms around you and leaned down to kiss you.

“I can’t believe you wore that little ring for that long” You hold his hand in yours and inspect the ring.

“I told myself I couldn’t take it off until I got you back” Your eyes dart up to meet his and his awkwardness is adorable as you spin the ring around his finger.

“So… can I have it back?” You ask, it would only be fair since you’re back together, and you really did love that ring.

“How about I get you that upgrade we talked about?” You raise an eyebrow at him and his lopsided smirk makes a reappearance.

“Don’t go all crazy on me Lukey” Here he was, less than five minutes of being back together and he’s springing the idea of a proposal on you.

“I’m not, just saying, whenever you want it I’m down” You laughed loudly at that, making another couple look over at you, wondering what was happening.

“That’s so heartfelt Luke”

“Shut up, you know what I mean” He rolls his eyes.

“Mhm I love you so we’ll see”

“That’s all I needed to hear” He wiggled the ring off of his finger and you had to hold back a laugh at the little indent it left since it was so small. Luke grabbed your left hand and slid the ring back into its rightful spot.

“It’s like it never left” You beamed, tilting your hand so the diamond catches the light.

mini extra lil blurb because i just couldn’t leave it like that:

three years later, Boston University

“So… you’re done in Boston” Luke smirked as he toyed with the tassel on your grad cap that he was holding. You shifted the huge bouquet of flowers he had brought to your graduation ceremony in your arms as you looked up at him.

“I am” After graduating with a bachelors degree in psychology, you were more than ready to take a step back from school at least for a year or two before going back for your masters.

“And… you’ll be moving home or..?” Luke was trying to delicately dance around the topic of your moving to New Jersey to be with him, something he had been talking about for years now.

“I’m not sure yet”

“Right, right” He fell silent as you continued walking through campus, taking the long way back to the parking lot. You were crossing a courtyard when Luke stopped abruptly, causing you to stop as well when his grip on your had didn’t let go. “Do you remember what you said when we broke up?”

“Maybe narrow it down a bit babe” There was a lot said that day and while you did remember most of it, four years was a long time.

“You told me that you would never uproot your life for your boyfriend” You squeezed his hand in yours as you sighed.

“I didn’t mean that, I was just trying to be stubborn”

“No I think what you said was fair” You furrow your eyebrows, wondering why he was basically telling you that refusing to move to be with him was okay. Your entire body froze when he dropped down on one knee, dropping your grad cap on the grass beside him as he produced a small box out of his pocket.

“Luke-”

“I’m not great at speeches but I think I have to give it a shot at least” You laugh as he takes your hand in his. “First of all, congratulations on graduating, I don’t think you’ll ever know how proud of you I am. You’ve been my guiding star for years now, every decision I’ve made since junior year of high school was influenced by you. I love you and I have for almost 7 years now and I’d be the luckiest guy if you let me continue for the rest of my life. I know you wouldn’t move across the country for your boyfriend, so how about for your fiancé?”

[sodamvelvets]

“it’s not you i want- part one”

bae joohyun x fem reader, park sooyoung x fem reader (platonic)

highschool!au (everyone is 18) + fake dating

warnings: swears

summary: your best friend misses her ex and devises a plan to get her back, things don’t necessarily go as planned

word count:  7464

part one | part two

a/n: hi, it’s been a bit, no? does anyone still use this site? anyways, i just wanted to finish this thing that’s been in my drafts and nearly done since,,, forever? because of the length i’ll be splitting it into two parts, the second to be posted soon. i can’t guarantee i’m back, but i’m at least attempting to get all my drafts done (there are a lot).

You should have skipped school today, you realize as you slowly close your locker, leaning against the cold metal and rubbing your forehead. It would’ve been so much easier to concoct some obscure sickness and convince your mother to let you stay home for the day, doing whatever you please, than to deal with whatever this mess is.

“So, you want me to date you.” You say finally, arching a brow as your best friend, Park Sooyoung, stares at you expectantly, her large brown eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and underlying annoyance, surely due to your insufferable silence that had begun ever since she’d told you her semi questionable plan five minutes prior. 

Sooyoung crosses her arms, wrinkling her button nose and letting out a frustrated huff of air as she tiredly blinks, carefully piecing her next words together. “Technically yes, but it’s fake,” She bites her lip as her attention noticeably shifts away from you, a look of sadness briefly flashing across her face before she refocuses herself, muttering something under her breath. “Please, it’ll only be until-”

“Joohyun wants you back.” You finish for her, your gaze drifting to the place where Sooyoung’s previously fell, watching in concealed amusement as Bae Joohyun, the ex-girlfriend of your best friend, laughs boisterously, throwing her head back in joy and causing several strands of her brunette hair to come loose from her low hanging ponytail. Joohyun’s pale cheeks begin to redden as she becomes aware of her loudness and she hastily hides her mouth behind her hand, ducking down as embarrassment creeps across her gentle features, and just for a moment you smile. 

Even you’ll admit that Bae Joohyun is undeniably alluring, her flawless features and delicate, lithe, form combined with her shy but sweet personality makes her irresistible to most, something she’s been even since your awkward elementary school days, where you remember supposing Joohyun was a witch, her clear skin and shining oval face that was somehow both daringly attractive and also childishly cute, standing out like a shimmering beacon amongst you and your acne-ridden peers. 

When you were younger rumors often followed Joohyun, always along the lines of her being scouted to join entertainment companies as an actress, idol, or model, and like many you believed these to be true however none of those stories ever held their own, your classmates waiting with bated breath every new school year for her inevitable departure, but alas she would always return with a shy smile and a soft wave, seating herself quietly and ignoring the jealous glares and longing whispers as she settled in for another three hundred sixty-five days of education. 

Despite her beauty and outwardly kind disposition, you’ve never quite been able to understand why throngs of people always seemed to fall at her feet, ready to do anything for her to give them just a second of acknowledgement. Perhaps that was why, when Sooyoung told you after one of your volleyball games that she was interested in Joohyun, you were shocked. You couldn’t imagine Sooyoung, such a prideful person joining the crowds clambering for Joohyun’s attention, and you suppose that technically she didn’t have to in the end. 

It was a friend of a friend type thing that brought the two together, Joohyun easily taking a liking to Sooyoung. Your best friend was almost as alluring as Joohyun, with her charismatic and good-natured attitude and aphrodisiac looks. They were the perfect couple really, the school beauty and the varsity volleyball team captain, in retrospect maybe a little cliché but still a good match nonetheless.

Beside you, Sooyoung appears lost, her expression far off and almost wistful, and as you glance worriedly at the taller girl, she clears her throat, becoming aware of your solicitous gaze and straightening herself. “Will you do it?”

“I don’t know.” You say, puffing out your cheeks.

It’s been almost four months since Joohyun broke up with Sooyoung, something you’re only sure of because you know you'll never be able to forget the day it happened when for the first time in your seventeen years of knowing Park Sooyoung, you saw her cry. It was surreal for you, to see Sooyoung, quite possibly the strongest person you know, shaking uncontrollably in your arms as she sobbed violently into your neck, oblivious to your soothing words. Sooyoung never told you why Joohyun decided to end it, and you never bothered to press the matter any further, instead wisely deciding to skirt around the topic. 

You remember that as the weeks passed, Sooyoung would often tell you she was fine, and you didn’t need to worry about her, but despite her assurances, you still did. There was this certain longing way that Sooyoung looked at Joohyun, something you knew she didn’t think you’d noticed in between her lies of having moved on, and truthfully, it still makes you uneasy, to see Sooyoung so upset over someone who doesn’t seem to be even slightly interested in the taller girl anymore. 

You shake your head. “How do you know she’ll want you back?” You ask finally, stopping yourself from adding on the part about Joohyun breaking up with Sooyoung, not vice versa. 

“I just do,” Sooyoung shrugs, placing a hand on your shoulder, the sudden contact making you jump. “She has to.”

You sigh at her response, torn between admiring Sooyoung’s foolish overconfidence in herself or shaking her awake from this delusion. “Okay,” You frown. “But why does it have to be me?  Why not like Yerim or something,” You say, referring to one of your teammates who, like many, has been relentlessly flirting with Sooyoung for some time now, her breakup reinstating her as the school’s most eligible bachelorette, behind only maybe Joohyun herself. 

Sooyoung rolls her eyes incredulously, acting as if you’re incompetent for not understanding why she’s chosen you for her fake dating ploy. “Because it’s the most realistic, two best friends getting together, and I’ve never even shown interest in Yerim before either. Plus,” Sooyoung adds, gesturing between the two of you. “You and I have the ideal opposites attract dynamic.”

It’s true that Sooyoung and you have always been a relatively odd pair. Sooyoung is an outgoing, reckless, and overly impulsive type, compared to your more quiet, thoughtful, and calculating persona, however, your seemingly clashing characters somehow managed to balance each other out fairly well, with Sooyoung becoming if only a little bit more tame and sensible around you, and you learning from her to let loose and have some fun in life. 

“Fine,” You’re not sure why you find yourself agreeing, perhaps it’s because you’re sick of seeing your best friend in pain, and even though you doubt this plan will come to fruition you’re willing to try for Sooyoung’s sake. Or maybe it’s just because you’d really like for this conversation to end and to go get a coffee. But either way, you find yourself reluctantly nodding. “I’ll do it.”

///

A sharp yelp escapes your lips as you feel a sudden weight leaning into your backside and a strong pair of arms that you identify as belonging to Sooyoung wrap themselves lazily around your neck, pressing a kiss onto the crown of your skull and in turn causing you to drop your chopsticks in pure shock and your cheeks to warm.

Sooyoung, noticing this laughs heartily, shaking you out of your stupor as your fingers fly to pry her off of you. “Don’t touch me you stupid hunk of-“ You begin to growl, however, the words seem to shrivel up in your mouth as you become increasingly aware of your volleyball teammate, Son Seungwan, watching the two of you with widened eyes, surprise evident on her face at your harsh remark, gently reminding you of your job as you suppress a sigh and finish your sentence with a fake smile and a new faux sweetness in your voice. “Love and kisses.”

Seungwan, although still appearing to be a little confused by your backhanded compliment towards your supposed girlfriend, seems to hesitantly accept your recovery, turning back to her own conversation with Kim Jennie, the outside hitter, as Sooyoung sits down next to you, wearing an amused expression and shifting her chair closer to you so your shoulders are brushing against each other. 

“You look awful today,” Sooyoung says a couple of beats later, her tone more observational than teasing as she unscrews the cap of her water bottle.

You don’t respond to her comment, but you can imagine it’s true, from the dark bags under your eyes due to staying up late last night working on a project; curse your procrastinating self, to you oversleeping your alarm this morning and barely being able to stumble out the door in one piece, you aren’t exactly the epitome of beauty, and you’re certainly no Bae Joohyun, especially in your baggy jeans and faded tee shirt. Though, you’re sure that even if Joohyun were to wear exactly what you were, she'd somehow manage to make it look presentable if not breathtaking. 

However, to your credit, with the exception of today, lately you’ve been dressing better than you normally would, perhaps it’s the small amount of you that actually cares about the student body’s opinion finally kicking in, slowly creeping its way into your peripherals and making you suddenly more conscious of your appearance than you’ve ever been and filled with at least a little determination to look somewhat presentable, even if it means going far outside your comfort zone by applying a rather shoddy makeup job and wearing less casual clothing as compared to your usual bare face and minimum effort outfit. 

“Seriously,” Sooyoung repeats. “You look awful.”

“Yeah, well not all of us can be Joohyun,” You mumble.

“Clearly not,” Sooyoung says, the corner of her lips turning upwards in a mischievous smirk. “Plus, unlike you, Joohyun was actually nice to me.” 

“Probably because she didn’t realize it was more than you deserved,” You bite back. 

Sooyoung laughs, unphased by your words, which you note is one of the unfortunate drawbacks of your years-long friendship. “Or maybe she just had human decency.” 

You only stick your tongue out at her in response, pushing your tray of food away from you, your appetite sated as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you, with Sooyoung eventually getting bored and pulling out her phone, but not before she makes sure to wrap an arm around you, your body stiffening at her touch momentarily before relaxing.

It’s been two weeks since you and Sooyoung started ‘dating’ and to say it’s been a struggle for you would be an understatement, most prominently due to your differing ideas of what a relationship should be. Much in contrast to your best friend, who up until Joohyun, was considered the ‘serial dater’ of your grade, you’d only had a handful of romances, most recently last year with Kang Seulgi, an older and rather laidback girl who was on the school’s competitive dance team until she graduated and moved overseas to attend some prestigious performing arts school.

 With Seulgi things were comfortable, your relationship was far from a secret but it was still private, your intimate moments shared only behind closed doors, few times did the two of you ever do anything publicly, beyond maybe a quick kiss on the cheek or interwoven hands. You realize now though, that what you had with Seulgi vastly underprepared you for what Sooyoung wants you to have with her. You suppose it’s due to Sooyoung’s grandiose personality that she’s like this, always wanting to have a very public and visible relationship, a factor that is only multiplied by her need to show off to Joohyun, and despite the fact that this is all fake, there comes a point where even you reach your limits, and Sooyoung’s melodramatic actions which very much so go against your reserved nature have definitely reached that point, your snarkiness with Sooyoung having noticeably gone up, especially at your volleyball practices.

Of course, your entire team already knew you and Sooyoung were dating by the time you reached practice at the end of your first official day together, (word has always spread fast in your school, and even faster if it involves Sooyoung) and to your horror, none of them even seemed to be surprised by the news, with some of Sooyoung’s closer friends even saying it was about time, and this surely soured your mood, which was already unhappy with the sudden surge of attention you were getting, causing the still increasing amounts of jabs at Sooyoung whether it be on poor form or simple mistakes. However luckily for you, most of your teammates have just assumed those moments were due to your cold personality and didn’t question if it had anything to do with the state of your relationship. After all, it was a well-known fact that while both you and Sooyoung are equally skilled at the game, Sooyoung’s affability was what made her the best choice for team captain, something much preferred over you and your somewhat unapproachable aura.

But the worst part of it all, and much to Sooyoung’s displeasure as well, was that Bae Joohyun, if she ever even noticed, didn’t seem to care much about you and Sooyoung, hardly even looking your way even when Sooyoung would purposely stop you in the halls where she was sure Joohyun could see to make some lame romantic gesture that you had to pretend to be enamored by. It seemed to you that this was all in vain and you were in this much deeper than you wanted to be. 

“Sooyoung,” You mumble, unwrapping her arm from around you, and reaching for your bag beneath the table. “Can we go for a walk before the next period starts?”

Sooyoung, who appears surprised by your abrupt request, briefly raises a brow in question before noticing your almost pleading expression and nodding slowly. “Sure,” She says, beginning to stand, with you hastily mimicking her movements.

“Where are you two going?” Jennie’s voice startles you slightly, her presence having been long forgotten in the midst of your swirling inner monologue. “Somewhere private I’m guessing?” She continues, jokingly making lewd motions with her fingers as some of your other teammates begin to chuckle quietly, and your gaze instinctively goes to the floor as discomfort fills your body. Sooyoung, appearing to have observed your reaction, moves closer to you, and although she’s only a couple of centimeters taller than you, at the moment her frame seems to dwarf yours. 

“Get your head out of your ass Kim,” Sooyoung says, her tone harsh and unamused as Jennie’s smirk turns into a sheepish grin, the rounds of laughter falling silent. “We’re just going for a walk, maybe you could try it instead of having a quickie in the janitor’s closet every other period.” 

And with that, Sooyoung snatches your stacked lunch trays and storms off, with you following her hesitantly. Confusion fills you as you watch Sooyoung’s shoulders untense. This is not the first time that Sooyoung’s been teased like that, in fact, it happened dozens of times with Joohyun, but she never responded then, rather choosing to just laugh it off, you assumed to keep up her appearance as an easygoing team captain. Her earlier riposte, you realize, was inexplicably out of character. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” You mutter as Sooyoung dumps your unfinished meals with the rest of today’s food waste, her face unreadable.

“Yes, I did.” 

You open your mouth to say something but decide against it as your best friend lets out a deep breath and holds out her hand to you, clearly wanting to move on from what just happened, and reluctantly you take it, exiting the cafeteria together, and leaving any awkward air between the two of you behind as Sooyoung escorts you to your next class, something she’s done even before you started fake dating. Unlike you, your best friend has dropped all unessential courses for her last year of high school, leaving her with a handful of free periods a day and plenty of time to accompany you during your transitions, often taking this time to tell you about trivial matters that you hardly ever care out, but still, you appreciate her trying, it’s just another one of Sooyoung’s subtle ways of showing she cares. And while you would never admit it to Sooyoung’s face, (if you did she’d immediately turn painfully smug and use it to further inflate her ego) those two-minute-long moments, that in retrospect seem mundane and unimportant, matter a lot more to you than she knows.

However today as you pass through the halls, her usual chatter is gone, replaced by an unsettling silence that continues even as you reach your classroom, which is luckily empty, your early departure from lunch having left you with enough leeway for a little over five minutes of relative peace before your peers arrive.

Gently, you release Sooyoung’s hand, heading for the backmost table, and dropping your backpack on the floor. “Are you okay?” You ask Sooyoung as you slide into your seat, eyeing her warily while she distractedly looks at the educational posters lining the walls, but based on her expression, you doubt she’s actually reading them. 

“What?” Sooyoung’s attention turns to you and for a moment she only stares, as if she’s replaying the last few seconds mentally. “Oh, yeah,” She says finally, walking towards you and hoisting herself up so she’s sitting on the tabletop.

“You sure? We can uh,” You rub your neck, leaning back in your chair. “Talk about it, if you want.”

Sooyoung shakes her head. “I’m fine, I swear,” she says, a small smile appearing on her face, perhaps because she’s briefly touched by your rare display of worry. “The thing with Jennie,” She pauses. “It was just because I was tired. Of her behavior I mean. She’s just been getting on my nerves lately, you know?”

“Yeah,” You say slowly, somewhat surprised. Sooyoung is a good liar, even when you were kids it was always hard to tell if she was telling the truth or not, something your mothers hated, and you of course loved, at least when it worked in your favor. But when it comes to you, you’ve always been able to tell when she’s lying, and it’s no different this time. Still, you say nothing, instead forcing out a laugh. “She can be a real bitch.”

Sooyoung glances at you, a chuckle escaping her lips before her expression turns serious. “So,” Sooyoung says, arching a brow. “Why did you really want to go on a walk?”

“Maybe I just enjoy your company.” Sooyoung rolls her eyes at this, moving to flick you. “Okay, fine!” You concede, pushing Sooyoung away from you. “I just,” You sigh. “I think we should talk about Joohyun.”

Sooyoung straightens, her gaze hardening as she leans forward. “Why?”

“Why?” You echo, a sudden irritation filling you, as the past two weeks of frustration and fruitless efforts catch up with you. “Because I’m sick of this Sooyoung. We’re doing this for nothing! She clearly doesn’t care, and I’m done with this game.”

“No, you can’t be done,” Sooyoung’s jaw tightens and she suddenly grabs your wrist, making you flinch. “We’re so close, and I promise it will end soon, just give me some time.” 

“You’re wrong Sooyoung,” You hiss. “This will never end because Joohyun doesn’t care.” Your tone softens. “You need to let go.”

“Please Y/N,” Sooyoung begs, her gaze snapping to the doorway as one of your classmates walks in briefly looking between the two of you, and Sooyoung lets go of your arm as her voice drops significantly. “Give me a little longer, I just need to figure it out.”

“One more week,” You say as the bell rings and more of your peers begin filing in, your privacy now gone. “One more week, and if nothing changed by then, this is over.”

Sooyoung doesn’t respond, and by the look on her face you can tell there will be renegotiations later, but for now, she backs down, hopping off the table and hesitantly leaning to kiss your forehead as she becomes aware of your watchful classmates, before slowly pulling away, and leaving you with burning cheeks. Without a word, she walks away, accidentally shouldering someone as she tries to slip away before your teacher arrives, and you cringe as you recognize the person. You watch with bated breath as Sooyoung stops, turning to apologize, but the words seem to die on her lips when she realizes it’s Bae Joohyun, and a visible awkwardness floats between them as your best friend mutters an apology and excuses herself. However, Joohyun seems unaffected as she continues to her seat, ignoring your classmate’s whispers as she passes by, and seating herself in the row ahead of you next to her friend Kim Jisoo, who immediately leans over to mutter something in the brunette’s ear, peeking back at you for a second with a smug smirk. You bury your head in your arms until your instructor arrives. 

Today’s class is mostly unit review, you realize a little later as your teacher begins to project old material on the board, and reluctantly you pull out your notes to halfheartedly follow along, eventually giving up and beginning to doodle, quickly done patterns and designs starting to litter your papers more and more as the lesson drags on. You sigh, placing your pen down and sitting back to admire your work, it’s nothing too intricate, but still, it has its own beauty you suppose.

 You’re not sure why your gaze drifts to Bae Joohyun, from where you’re sitting you can only just barely make out her enviable side profile as she writes something down in her notebook, and perhaps it’s simply because you’ve found that over the last several days your life has seemingly become centered around Joohyun’s existence that you find yourself staring at her from behind, admittedly admiring the way the tips of her collarbone just barely poke out from the neckline of her shirt, and how her mussed hair cascades in waves to the small of her back. Nearly autonomously, you begin to glide your pen across your page, creating a feminine face with a defined jawline and perfectly arched nose, using one continuous contour line, a technique Seulgi taught you, and while the finished piece may be a little abstract, it is still indistinguishably Joohyun, and you’re sure if Seulgi were to see, she would be proud. 

“Hi,” Your body jumps as a stack of papers is dropped in front of you, and you’re met with Bae Joohyun, who offers you an apologetic smile as she pulls up a chair across from you and settles herself in. Joohyun’s gaze wanders from you to your notes, surely noticing your drawings, more specifically the one of her, and quickly you flip them over, your cheeks burning. “We’re, uh partners,” She says finally, thankfully saying nothing about your sketches and pointing to the board, where your name is written next to hers. Of course, you think, it’s really just your luck to end up partners with Bae Joohyun, the very girl you’re supposed to be making jealous. And what will Sooyoung say? You bite your tongue, holding back a groan, it seems life has just gotten a little more difficult.

“Right,” You mutter, shaking your head to clear your thoughts and forcing a smile that you’re sure is unconvincing.  “I’m Kwon Y/N,” You say, holding out your hand. 

Joohyun stares at you weirdly, a glint of amusement in her eyes as she takes your hand with her own, which you note, is much softer than you expected. “I know. We’ve met. Many times,” She clears her throat. “And you’re also dating my ex.” 

“Oh, yeah,” You cough. “Sorry,” You add, truthfully unsure which part of her statement you’re apologizing for.

Joohyun lets out a soft laugh, shuffling through her papers to find the project overview. “It’s fine,” She shrugs, flipping through the packet, and then passing it to you. “I don’t really care anyway.” 

You only nod in response, doing your best to ignore Joohyun’s stare as you skim through the pages, where you, unfortunately, learn that this is a two-week-long project. By the time you’ve finished reading the packet, and figured out what this assignment is even about, Joohyun has already begun taking out the rest of her notes, making you shift uncomfortably as you realize how pitiful your quickly scrawled annotations look compared to hers. Still, you ignore your slightly wounded pride, taking out your laptop and starting to do extended research for your presentation, occasionally checking in with Joohyun to ask if she agrees a source is adequate, and eventually a congenial silence fills the air between the two of you, and you can’t help but think that this isn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

 “Did Sooyoung ever tell you why we broke up?” She asks seemingly out of nowhere, and when you glimpse her way, you realize she hasn’t even bothered to look up from her work, much too focused on filling in her section of the outline.

“No,” You say cautiously, stopping your typing and watching her as she scribbles something down about catalysts. “I didn’t want to pry.” 

“It was because I was interested in someone else,” Joohyun says this so casually, that at first you don’t register what she’s just said, but the second you do your body tenses. 

Her words shock you. Although you’d never say it out loud, Sooyoung is truthfully quite good looking, from her full lips and seductive gaze to her athletic build, you can’t imagine anyone above her league, and hearing Bae Joohyun of all people insinuate that there is indeed someone better than the perfect Park Sooyoung has you wildly confused, and maybe somewhat concerned, perhaps the brunette has an underlying issue you’re not aware of, because surely no sane person would dump your best friend for a passing crush, and yet here Joohyun is anyways. It’s possible, you contemplate, that this mysterious interest of Joohyun’s is why she doesn’t care about you and Sooyoung’s efforts. 

“Are you still?” You question, solely for Sooyoung’s sake.

Joohyun peers at you for a second, ceasing her movements as her expression becomes thoughtful. “I think so.”

Joohyun doesn’t mention Sooyoung again as the two of you delve into your work again, leaving you to process the past few moments as you distractedly scribble things down, concluding, that while misfortunate for you, it appears that Joohyun’s slight apprehensiveness still leaves Sooyoung with a chance. Quietly, you curse under your breath, earning you a brief glance from Joohyun, but you hardly care at this point, more caught up with the realization that this new development will most likely result in an extension to your fake dating act with Sooyoung. 

By the time fifteen more minutes pass, class is close to over, and you and Joohyun are starting to put your materials away, quietly discussing if there’s anything to do outside of class. However, for now, there seems to be nothing, something you’re secretly grateful for, as your workload combined with volleyball is already more than enough for you. 

“I’m glad we’re partners,” Joohyun says as you help her reorganize her papers.

You can’t help but laugh, tilting your head to the side in question. “Why?”

Joohyun shrugs, looking like she’s going to say something, but she seems to forget her words as someone calls her name out, and you try your best to ignore the subtle pang of disappointment in your stomach as your eyes follow hers to see Jisoo beckoning Joohyun over, and you can hear the brunette chuckle softly. “I should go talk to her,” Joohyun says, turning back to you, and taking the pages from your hands, quickly dropping them into her bag and zipping it up. 

You nod, your hand jumping to the back of your neck as you notice Jisoo’s gaze boring into you. “Yeah,” You mumble, shifting awkwardly on your feet. 

Joohyun smiles unaware of your discomfort, offering you a small wave. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” You echo watching as she goes to join Jisoo just as class is dismissed, and once again Jisoo looks back at you with a smirk, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. 

You don’t have long to ponder over it though as your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you glance at it to see a text from Sooyoung reminding you that practice was rescheduled for today. You sigh, hiking your backpack up on your shoulder and heading for the locker room, where some of your teammates are already lingering, waiting for the start of your practice in thirty minutes. Hastily you change, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and leaving to go meet Sooyoung. You’ve decided to tell your best friend about what happened with Joohyun after practice, not wanting to distract her from your drills. 

Sooyoung is waiting for you at the athletic center entrance, twirling an Allen wrench between her fingers as she leans against the doorframe. Wordlessly, she tosses it to you, bending down to pick up the bag at her feet with a small grunt as you brush past her, going towards the court’s centerline and beginning to pry off the golden caps of the floor sleeves while Sooyoung starts unpacking the net. It doesn’t take long to set it up after that, your years of volleyball have made this process more autonomous than anything, and with Sooyoung, everything moves quickly, your lifetimes together allowing your bodies to move in perfect sync as if they were two halves of a whole, rather than separate beings. 

“We’re not breaking up next week,” Sooyoung says eventually as she watches you loop off the excess rope.

You finish tying off a knot and raise a brow at the taller girl. “Why?” 

“Because you’re partnered with her,” Sooyoung says.

For a moment you just stare at Sooyoung. You’re not necessarily surprised that Sooyoung is already aware of your partnership with Joohyun, it was bound to spread quickly in the first place, and of course, it would reach your best friend first, but still, you can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance. “How’d you find that out?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t have time,” You shrug, unbothered by Sooyoung’s evasiveness and repeating your question. “How’d you find out?”

Sooyoung doesn't respond, her attention shifting to Seungwan as she enters the gym, pulling in a cart of volleyballs with the rest of your team trailing behind her, signaling the start of your practice. 

“When does your project end?” She asks, not meeting your eyes.

You sigh. “Two weeks?”

“Then that’s when we’ll break up.” 

Sooyoung doesn’t give you a chance to object as she sprints away, meeting your incoming teammates and already beginning to give them instructions for your warm-up.

///

Few people are in the library by the time you arrive only a couple of hours before closing. It wasn’t your original plan to be here, in fact, it was really the last place you’d want to be, especially after a tiring day of academics followed by an intense volleyball session, but with your tournament coming closer and your free time becoming lesser, Joohyun suggested meeting up past school hours, leaving you in your current situation, drowsy and miserable yet still somehow standing. Nonetheless, your fatigue wasn’t enough to deter you from completing another section of your project, hoping that at a minimum, your future self will appreciate your efforts. 

However, Joohyun doesn’t seem to be here, or at least not in this part of the building, you observe before vaguely remembering the upstairs study section from the last time you came, two years ago. A slight anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach as you head to the second floor, each step bringing more and more unease. This will be your first time alone with Joohyun in a non-classroom setting, and truthfully you’re unsure of how it will go. That, combined with the fact that you’ve decided, for no particular reason, not to inform Sooyoung of your meeting, only heightens your apprehension, halfheartedly wishing that at this time of night, none of your possible schoolmates will be here to spot you and Joohyun, news which would certainly find its way back to your best friend and surely end in a painful interrogation. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you do your best to shake off that thought, instead letting your fingers run through your slightly dampened hair, silently praying the rushed shower you took was enough to rid yourself of your after-practice stench. 

You take a deep breath as you reach the second-floor study, relaxing your shoulders and letting your gaze flick from person to person, searching for the familiar brunette. Similar to downstairs, only a handful of people are here (none that you recognize luckily), splattered about the tables. Most of them sit alone, silently reading or rapidly typing away, however, the ones who are in groups are huddled together speaking in low whispers, their voices intertwining with the sound of keystrokes and flipping pages, creating a surprisingly comforting hum. But, none of those here are Bae Joohyun. With a sigh, you pull out your phone, preparing to send her a text. 

“Y/N!” The sound of your name being called from behind makes you turn, subtly sliding your cell back into your pocket as Joohyun comes to a stop in front of you. You swallow. 

If you had to describe her it would be ethereal. But that thought is quickly dispelled as you remember Sooyoung, and besides, you’ve never had an interest in Joohyun, why would you suddenly now?

So instead you focus on how she’s changed clothing since you saw her in class, now dressed in straight cut jeans and a thin black top that just barely exposes the gentle slope of her collarbone, where a thin golden chain just barely peeks out, shining against her lightly tanned skin. You swear you can smell a soft scented vanilla perfume wafting in a gentle cloud around her, which surprises you as you just barely remember a conversation with Sooyoung about Joohyun’s dislike for fragrances of any sort and her odd preference for the scent of fabric softener. It occurs to you, as more of a joke than anything, that she might have put it on for you, but the thought is so obscure and impossible that you immediately brush it off. It’s much more likely that she did it on a whim rather than for a particular reason, or person. 

“Hey,” You greet, awkwardly shifting on your feet and you’re suddenly aware of how unkempt you look compared to her in your worn sweatpants and old volleyball shirt.

“Hi,” Joohyun offers you a warm smile, perhaps because she perceives your discomfort, and you can’t help but notice how the left corner of her lips rises subtly higher than the other, inadvertently causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Sorry, I’m late.”

You blink, praying she didn’t notice as your hands anxiously move to your pockets. “It’s fine,” You manage to cough out. 

She tilts her head. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Joohyun says after another beat of excruciatingly uncomfortable silence “Well, we should probably find a table,” Joohyun suggests kindly, hiking her bag up further on her shoulder. 

“Right,” You nod, mentally kicking yourself for your tactlessness, motioning for her to take the lead, and leaving you to trail behind the older girl as she finds the two of you a relatively empty area to work in. 

As you settle down, Joohyun begins pulling out her project folder, and you can’t help but watch her graceful moments, pondering where your relationship with the brunette falls now. According to Sooyoung, you should be friends by now, but you’ve completely ignored her pushing, instead wanting to have an organically growing bond, but your blossoming connection you find, has inexplicably begun to sour the once seemingly harmless idea of getting Joohyun and Sooyoung back together, the cause being something you haven’t bothered to explore too deeply, secretly fearing what the answer could be. 

At this point, you’re unsure if you can call her a friend just yet, on the other hand though, categorizing her as an acquaintance seems too formal for the occasional banter that has bounced between the two of you. You decide to settle on the thin line between as Joohyun hands you your portion of the project, her having agreed to keep it for you after you had meekly told her about your organization issues a class back. From there your previous worries quickly fade, and the air between you is similar to how it is in school, friendly and comfortable, except this time you notice that Joohyun is far more talkative, seeming quite interested in your personal life, something you usually prefer not to talk about, however, Joohyun seems to have a way of easily coaxing those answers out of you as your posture loosens up and your walls crumble just a bit. 

“What do you think you’ll do after graduation?” 

“I don’t know,” You say with a shrug, more concerned with getting your diagram right than what seems like Joohyun’s hundredth question about you. 

“Really?” Joohyun asks her tone indicating surprise as you glance up at her with a raised brow. “I would’ve thought you’d continue volleyball.”

You laugh harshly, unintentionally startling Joohyun. “Sorry,” You say abashedly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Joohyun replies, reaching to squeeze your hand assuringly, something that embarrassingly enough makes you melt or at least until you catch yourself and quickly stiffen. 

“I mean, I probably should,” You sigh, twirling your pencil between your fingers, before erasing a few lines. “But to tell you the truth, volleyball isn’t really my thing, it’s more of Sooyoung’s. I only started playing to keep her company.”

From your peripherals, you can see Joohyun frown slightly. “Well, what about you?” You question quickly, not wanting her to press you any further on the topic of your future. “What do you want to do?”

She seems to think about it for a second before answering. “Probably engineering,” She says noncommittally. 

“Huh, that makes sense,” You hum. “You’re definitely smart enough.” You glance up and notice Joohyun staring at you. There’s an odd mixture of expressions flashing across her face, and you’re unsure if you’ve said something wrong. “What?” 

Joohyun’s eyes widen, snapping out of whatever thought had her held up as she shakes her head. “Sorry, I was just,” She trails off, looking for the right word. “Surprised.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, seeming uncaring, but you can’t help but feel like there’s something deeper to it. “Most people tell me I should be a model or become an idol.” 

“Oh,” You breathe out, suddenly remembering a conversation with Sooyoung you had months ago when she had first told you about Joohyun, calling her a ‘future celebrity’, and while you had laughed then, you can’t help but feel a pang of regret now. “That’s really shallow of them,” You offer, before realizing your mistake as you hastily add on, “But if you wanted to be one then I guess you could do that too.”

Joohyun crosses her arms. “You guess?” 

“No!” You exclaim, panicking under her piercing gaze. “I meant you definitely could if you wanted to!”

Joohyun laughs loudly at your flustered behavior, reaching to grab your hand. “I’m joking,” She assures you. “But thank you, it means more than you know.” 

You can feel your body warming as you offer a barely audible “no problem” before quickly burying yourself back in your work, and allowing Joohyun to pick up on her questioning, this time participating a little more willingly, as the previously unbearable space between you eventually falls away, long-forgotten amongst your shared giggles and playful jokes. However, Joohyun makes sure not to let you deviate too far from your tasks, enough so that by the end of the night you feel quite confident in your progress, while also not too overworked. 

“It’s a lot darker than I thought it would be,” Joohyun notes as the two of you step outside, the cold night air already starting to nip at your exposed skin. 

You nod in agreement, pulling your jacket tighter around you and glancing upwards, towards the barely filled moon and its army of speckled dots surrounding it. 

In many ways, Joohyun is like a star, the glimmering lights small but shining in raw natural beauty, so far away, guarding themselves against the greedy grasp of man, just like Bae Joohyun, the girl wanted by all, but deserved by no one. But, you decide, more surely and confidently than anything you’ve ever decided, that the stars above are nowhere near as beautiful as Bae Joohyun. Nothing can match her, the paragon of allure, not even the precious stars. 

Everything about her seems so disturbingly effortless, it almost makes you jealous that she can exist so perfectly yet remain so unaware. And when you finally allow yourself to look at her, her gaze turned to the sky as the warmth of the street lamps illuminates the older girl in a honey-like glow that practically drips from her skin, you realize how erratically your heart seems to be beating, betraying you and everything you’ve said as unwanted words fester on your tongue. 

Fuck. It’s all you can think, as you observe how her eyelashes cast a subtle shadow on her cheeks, fluttering delicately every time she blinks, and for a brief, untouchable, moment, you swear you can see an entire universe in her eyes. 

And then it disappears as you force yourself to refocus, rebuild your walls and push away any thoughts of Bae Joohyun beyond what you set out to do. Squaring your shoulders you inhale deeply, letting the bitter cold seep into your lungs, sobering you up, not much, but enough.

“Walk to the parking lot with me?” You ask, feeling almost guilty as your words seem to tug Joohyun back into reality, a shy grin on her lips. 

“Sure,” She says with a laugh. “But then I have to turn around since I’m walking home.”

“You’re walking home?” You echo dumbly. 

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s not that far,” Joohyun says with a shrug, and although you have no doubt she’s made this trip many times in her life safely, you still find yourself worrying for her. There’s a panging feeling in your stomach as you mull over your next words, the tiny voice in your head shouting to stop before you do something stupid, but like a fool, you ignore it. 

“It’s too late,” You say, avoiding eye contact as you look up to the sliver of a moon floating in the night sky. “Let me drive you home.” 

You can feel Joohyun’s hand, which is smaller than you would’ve expected, take your own, intertwining them as you glance at her with a curious look that's met only by a sheepish nod and a hushed whisper of gratitude. You tilt your head as the thought of Joohyun seeming cute shamelessly crosses your mind, before it’s rapidly banished and swept away. With a deep breath that leaves a puffy cloud in its wake, you start walking, Joohyun still clinging to you, to your car, doing your best not to let the contact fluster you as you focus on literally anything but her. 

The drive, though short, is pleasant with Joohyun, who spends it peering out your windows and telling you about the passing stars far above, unbeknownst to your previous revelations, and although you don’t completely understand, you can’t help but feel content in her presence, so much so that you’re almost disappointed when she tenderly tells you to pull over in front of her house. For a moment you’re reminded of some of your favorite memories with Seulgi, where you’d sit on the roof of her car staring at constellations you didn’t even know the name of, curled into her side as she hummed a sweet melody. It’s wonderfully bittersweet. 

“Thank you,” Joohyun murmurs, leaning over the console to press a kiss to your cheek, before quickly exiting the vehicle, leaving you frozen for a moment before you shift into drive and leave, and while you’re sure her intentions were platonic, you can’t help but wonder if it’s possible they were not. Even so, you force the thought away, remembering Sooyoung and focusing yourself on the road. At least, you realize that after tonight you can definitely call Joohyun a friend. 

[aquanova99]

Midnight Stroll

Matt Murdock x Reader

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A/N: I’ll be honest not my proudest work but I’ve had this in my drafts forever and I need to stop getting in my head. A big sorry and also thank you in advance for anyone that reads this

Summary: a quick blurb on what daredevil does when he hears y/n could be in some trouble

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The night had been unusually slow. There had been a robbery right before Matt got off of work. Then silence. Which, technically isn’t a bad thing but it gave Matt a bad feeling.  A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. No one seemed to even be out tonight. Which might work, maybe he could make y/n something before she got home, she was supposed to work late tonight too. Of course, he thought this too soon. Over two blocks he heard a familiar stride of heels clicking against the pavement.

 Theres no way. Why would y/n be out right now? Wasn’t she supposed to be staying late at the office? Was it later than he thought? He wouldn’t have been been so worried but he could also discern a group of harsher footsteps speeding up and getting closer to the sound of heels. Without realizing he found himself racing towards them. The closer he got the worse he felt. What if he didn’t make it in time? He tried to rationalize that nothing had technically happened but the sound of a small scuffle followed by no more heels stopped him in his tracks.

 He could hear what he was positive was y/n muffled scream, her perfume hitting his nose immediately. His appearance stopped shocked the men. Two of them trying to cover up what they were trying to do.

 “Who the hell are you?”

 “Get your hands off of her.”

 “Look guy, mind your business before you get hurt.”

 Daredevil could hear y/n continue to struggle against those idiots.

“Hey! Are you stupid or something,” He began getting closer to him, “I said get out of here.” He pulled something out of his jacket. A gun most likely, though the cigarette odor was making things a bit difficult for Daredevil to orientate himself. His hand work was inmcredible, y/n thought. It took led than a second for the mysterious stranger to disarm the gun. Bullets dinging against the cold pavement. He was able to quickly swat the gun out of his hand, throwing his fist against the guys throat which sent him flying back.

 The other three guys began exclaiming for their friend or leader, whatever he was to them. He just pointed in the general direction of the masked hero standing in front of them. They roughly dropped y/n against the concrete. Something in her worried about the men outnumbering the man who had just been willing to risk his life to save her. There was something familiar, she needed to make sure he was alright.

 Then they all rushed him. It was remarkable seeing him fight. The way he was able to dodge and maneuver around the men was almost graceful.  Y/n couldn’t help herself, she saw the man he had originally been punched get up. She gasped and tried to warn him but the sound of her worry caught Daredevil off guard.

 One of the three men who originally went after him hit the superhero’s back. With what y/n couldn’t be sure, they were all starting to surround him. Landing more and more punches. Y/n began getting more and more worried, but the guy was holding his own. He whipped out a stick of some kind and quickly bought every one down. It wasn’t until she got a better look that the stick suddenly seemed very similar.

 Daredevil was panting. He had been so worried about y/n, he had let himself get distracted. He worried she may have gotten more hurt than she let on he looked in her general direction. His turning brought the cane forth to y/n’s attention.

“Are you alright?” He asked breathlessly

 Y/n slightly raised her hand and slightly waved, he could hear she did something but exactly what he wasn’t sure. When he didn’t look at her hand directly as he asked what she was doing, everything fell into place.

“Oh my god! Matt??”

 “Uhhhh nope. No. Don’t know who that is…” He was cut off by her running up to him and her wrapping her arms around his neck.

 “Is this where you run off to every night?” She laughed against him

 “Yeah, not sure when this became my life.” He chuckled as he held her tightly, “What the hell were you doing out?”

 “Would you be furious if I said I wanted to get some food so I didn’t have to cook for when you get home?”

 “You couldn’t call me to pick something up?”

 “That would ruin the surprise, plus now that I know you do this theres no way I am ever asking you to do anything ever again.”

 Matt kissed the top of her head and let her lead him home. Y/n ordered food on her phone and started the shower for Matt. She couldn’t help herself and peeked in to see the extent of his damages. She knew he would play them off later. He was getting dressed when the food arrived to their apartment. She set up the Chinese table around their coffee table across the tv. Matt came out in a long sleeve tshirt and sweats and sat down next to y/n.

“Thanks for the food babe.”

 “Matt, seriously are you okay?”

 “I’m fine, I promise.”

 “Matt…”

 He sighed, “Alright, alright. My left shoulder is sore. But that’s it.”

 “You’re lying, but fine. Just—Look if you’re going to keep doing that be careful, okay?”

 “I promise I’m usually not caught of guard like that, I just- I thought something happened to you.”

 “I know..” Y/n rested her head as softly as she could on his right side, “Just don’t do anything stupid okay? Theres plenty of superheroes out there lately. I don’t need you disappearing on me.”

 “I won’t, I promise to come home to you, everynight.”

 “You better, you’re a lawyer so now just know I’m using your words as a verbal contract.”

 “First of all, I’m a really good lawyer, and second that’s not how that works at all.”

 Y/n shrugged and held up some noodles close to his face for him to eat. “Well, now I have something new to worry about. I thought you were maybe staying out so late because you had started finding someone else.”

 Matt straightened up immediately, “What?? I could never find someone better than you.”

 “If you could see, you might think otherwise.”

 “Believe me, I may not be able to see but I’m not blind. I know you are the most beautiful woman anyone would be so lucky to have.”

 “Yeah yeah sure.”

 “I’m serious, I hear all the time. When we go out, and everyone is staring at us. They all think you could do better.” Matt didn’t have to see to know that she was rolling her eyes. He wasnt lying he didn’t want to mention what those add hole were saying. She was perfect, and she loved him which was a plus. He would have continued arguing with her but she grabbed his face and turned it towards her to kiss him.

“Thats cheating.”

“I font know what you’re talking about” she smiled against him. She got yo and sat on the couch behind him and began slowly and gently massaging his aching body. She was extra careful around any areas she had seen the bruising.

“Mmm you dont have to do that.”

“I know.” She said simply. They finished eating what was left and retired to the room, leaving the to go boxes for tomorrows problem. Y/n rested her head on Matt, he kissed the top of her head the same way he did every night.

“I love you.” He whispered into her hair

“Mmm love you more.”

He sighed, “do you have to do that.”

“Yes.” Y/n enjoyed arguing with him, it got both of riled up

“Should I prove you wrong?” Matt asked seductively

“And how would you do that.” She continued to tease him

He grabbed the side if her hips and pulled her under him, his face got entirely too close to hers. He smirked at her heart beginning to race and her breathing quickening. He kissed the side of her temple and laid back down on his side.

“I don’t know, I guess i cant.”

“That was rude!” Y/n playfully swatted him as he laid down laughing

“You started it!”

Y/n would remember this. They both knew that. But tonight they decided it was enough to hold eachother close. They both knew how quickly the other could get hurt. The most important thing in the world was falling asleep next to eachothers most important person.