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#now that i’m thinking about it it could be from one of those instagram artworks that people post that i just saved but i rlly cant rmb
legofbicuriosity · 2 years
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ok so there’s a quote/lyric/something and i don’t know where it’s from but it goes “you said “i’m fine alone, but it’s good to see you, man. i feel cut off from all i have been but am i the stump or am i the limb?” so if anyone knows or could tell me where it’s from that would be super cool
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nevermoorsource · 3 months
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Jessica Townsend’s recent Instagram post (7/2/24):
Hello! It’s me, Jess. 😊🩷 I am unspeakably delighted to tell you that the (absolute, for sure, official!) publication dates for Silverborn: The Mystery of Morrigan Crow will be 30 April (Australia/NZ), 08 May (UK) and 24 June (US) 2025. I am even more thrilled to share these STUNNING Australia/NZ and US covers, with artwork by the forever brilliant Jim Madsen (who I think has PROPERLY outdone himself this time, just quietly). I’ll also be revealing the beautiful UK cover in the coming weeks! I can’t wait to hear what you think about all three. You may have clocked (particularly if you’ve preordered) that there have been some date changes since my last announcement here. I know April 2025 is later than you’re currently expecting, and I also know how exasperating it can be to wait so patiently for something and then find out you have to wait EVEN LONGER. For this reason, I’ve deliberately held off on announcing any further date changes on social media until now — I wanted to wait until I knew for absolute, definite, no-doubt-about-it certain that the date I told you would be THE ONE. (Although FYI, from an industry perspective my publishers are under a whole different set of pressures, meaning dates have had to be changed online and with booksellers for many sensible reasons. And of course we all VERY MUCH HOPED those dates would work out, but I’ve never felt like I could tell you another pub date myself unless I felt 100% confident I could make it happen.) I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your kindness and patience during the wait for Silverborn! It’s been a long one, partly for various life reasons but also because, frankly, she is a BEAST. In a good way! A LOT happens in this book. Silverborn launches what I’ve always thought of as Act II of Morrigan’s story, but it’s also book 4 of 9, which means there are by now a lot of threads to begin untangling, and even more to lay down for future books. I’m so, so, SO excited for you to read this part of the story next April, and in the meantime I’ve got some fun stuff for you in the coming days and months — I’ll talk some more about this in my Instagram stories imminently! Love JT xx
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betterthanburrow · 2 years
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The NFL Off-Season Life - Instagram AU
(Bengals Quarterback! Joe Burrow x Artist! OC)
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liked by joeyb_9, allisonkuch and 991,893 more users
yourinstagram: life is good… life is great ❣️
view all 110,994 comments
allisonkuch: it looks like you and Joe are enjoying your first NFL off-season life together!
↳ yourinstagram: the advice you gave me on how to handle football players during the NFL off-season life truly has saved my life and i can’t thank you enough 🙏🏻
lahjay10_: i can tell from that writing piece of yours that y’all are having fun during the offseason 😌
mamaburrow: i hope that the two of you are having a good time visiting your hometown!
↳ yourinstagram: trust me… we are having fun!
yourmother: i can’t wait to see the two of you soon!
joeyb_9: out of all the pictures of me… you decided to chose that photo to be apart of your “photo dump”?!
↳ yourinstagram: would you rather me post your failed artwork on a tiny canvas for all instagram users to see?!
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liked by 357,158 users
Burrow_Updates: Joe Burrow’s instagram story.
view all 87,109 comments
username1: i was at that restaurant last night and i saw Joe with his girlfriend and her mother… i didn’t take pictures to respect their privacy but they were having a good time together while drinking and laughing.
↳ username2: did you hear any of the embarrassing stories from Y/N’s childhood?!
↳ username1: no, i wasn’t close to their table. also the restaurant was very loud so even if i was close to their table… i probably wouldn’t have been able to hear anything because i couldn’t hear my girlfriend speak and she was sitting across the table from me.
yourinstagram: i can’t believe an instagram story update from one of my boyfriend’s fanpages is how i find out that my mother and i got too drunk…
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liked by joeyb_9, allisonkuch and 799,083 users
yourinstagram: 🗯️ (disclaimer: it’s an art piece that i saw on the street, please don’t overthink this post)
view all 190,903 comments
joeyb_9: thank you for the disclaimer… i don’t need rumors about me being a fan of NFTs going around 🙄
↳ yourinstagram: rumors about you being head over heels in love with your art lover girlfriend > rumors about you loving your girlfriend because she’s an NFT.
mamaburrow: what’s an NFT?!
↳ joeyb_9: trust me mama… you don’t want to know.
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liked by yourinstagram and 732,495 more users
joeyb_9: thinkin about ball today.
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Bengals: we’re always thinking about the ball.
yourinstagram: is that all you were thinking about 🤔
↳ joeyb_9: i was also thinking about my girlfriend’s embarrassing stories from her childhood that her and her mother told me about at the restaurant ☺️
↳ yourinstagram: stop thinking about that right now… go back at thinking about the ball.
NFL: we miss seeing our favorite #9 quarterback on the football field!
lahjay10_: when are you not thinking about the ball?!
↳ joeyb_9: that’s a good point.
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liked by mamaburrow and 991,097 more users
yourinstagram: today, i offering you a semi-blurry selfie and some art pieces that i’ve been working on… tomorrow, who knows what i’ll offer.
view all 101,009 comments
joeyb_9: pretty girl and her pretty art.
username1: will you ever put your artwork up for sale?!
↳ yourinstagram: i’ve considered opening an online shop for my artwork… but art is something i do in my free-time for my own peace of mind and i don’t want it to become a chore that i’ll have to stress about.
sam_hubbard: i know what you could offer tomorrow?!
↳ yourinstagram: hmm… what?! (if you say something stupid i’m going to block your account)
↳ sam_hubbard: nevermind… i’m not going to risk getting blocked by one of my best friend’s girlfriend 😵‍💫
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liked by yourinstagram and 96,108 more users
Bengals: Tiny hands win games.
view all 255 comments
joeyb_9: who edited those hands… we need to talk.
sam_hubbard: i see that Twitter 2020 tweet more times that i’ve seen any other Twitter tweet.
yourinstagram: those tiny hands may win football games, but those tiny hands can’t paint a tiny canvas!
↳ joeyb_9: i apologize for not being the most artistic football quarterback in the world.
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Author’s Note:
i truly do enjoy writing these Instagram AUs, i know that this is only the third Instagram AU that i’ve posted so far but… i’m having a lot of fun writing Instagram AUs for a man that has no social media presence which is causing me to use my imagination to come up with these Instagram AUs “scenarios”.
if you have any requests for an Instagram AU, please send them to my inbox and i’ll try to have the Instagram AU posted as soon as i can!
thank you for all the love and support 🤍
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hey-there-it-me · 24 days
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What is that??? Another art challenge thing that is vaguely batman themed????
Let me give you guys some background information before I really get into it. Me and my friends who also love DC have done this for a few years now. It’s basically the normal “do an art thing for this prompt for this day” but, ya know, Batman themed and a bit more complex. It’s been fun, some of them do it using traditional art, some digitally, some use it as writing prompts, and so on and so forth. But due to bucket loads of conflicts, a lot of us can’t participate (literally just me and 2 others who can😭) and we don’t want this to die out so a few chats and a cartoony montage of me building this design like it’s a house later, and here we are!
About Batober
You know how these work. Every day in October, you will be given a prompt. You will then create something that you associate with or just straight up is said prompt. All the prompts are randomized every year except the 31st (which will always be Scarecrow). You can use whatever media you like (e.g., writing, visual art, edits, etc) and you really don’t have to wait for specific days or anything to start creating.
But with Batober, we’ve changed some things up to make it a bit more fun and challenging. Personally, I find a lot of these 30/31 day prompt challenges a bit too open ended, so we added a new system with it.
Every day, with the main prompt, there will be three other prompts for that day as well that goes along with the main prompt like accessories. You can pick 1-2 of these additional prompts, but you can’t use all 3. And if you don’t want to use any of the additional prompts and just use the main prompt, that’s totally fine. I’ll post a little card every day to reveal the additional prompts you can pick from:
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Of course, it’ll actually have the additional prompts but this is what it’ll basically look like.
Now to clear some things up.
We chose and stuck with “situation,” “relationship,” and “status” because those three are really broad but at the same time can give you more direction. We had tried some other types of prompts in the past but these just kinda stuck.
Situation is just an event they may be participating in or observing or something in between. I like to keep the situations only a few sentences and something that would happen any day in Gotham. 
Relationships aren’t just “platonic” or “romantic,” I like to get really specific with it so you can really get to thinking who that person or thing could be. And hey, if it’s not a character that is the main prompt, it just makes it more interesting!
Status is really broad and basically is anything that happens mentally and sometimes physically (like sometimes I use “injured” or “dead” for status). This can be emotions, mental states, addictions, etc. I don’t really define status as anything, it’s just to add another level of flavor to the mix.
If you have any questions about the rules, I’m not very comfortable with DMs but my ask box is open!
How to Participate
This is my first time hosting one of these so I’m just doing what I see a lot of others do. Just use #batober2024 and make sure to add what day your artwork is for. If you’d like to @ me, go for it! I’d love to see what you guys will do with this! You can also participate on Instagram! Again, use the tag #batober2024 and you can @ me if you like. I rarely use instagram but I’ll post the prompts there as well.
(My insta is @hey_there_it_mehahahehe)
Also please use trigger warnings, we don’t have many rules about how you should use these prompts but please please please use proper trigger warnings!! I don’t really expect for this to become really big because it is our first year sharing it, but if you do participate I’ll try to reblog as many as I can! This list has helped a lot of us out of a lot of art/writers blocks for the past few years, so we hope this will help you guys out too <3
Additional Note!!!
We may make some more of these but for different months (just for the funsies), but that is a HUGE maybe. It’s really up for debate if we keep Batober public but keep some of our other hyperfixation prompts for ourselves, but keep an eye out incase we change our minds! Oh and also I used “The Long Halloween” for the logo because I thought I was being clever cuz hehehoho long Halloween = October = batober hehehahaha I’m so creative (lie). You can use whatever version of these guys you like, from official storylines to fan works or even your own version of them.
Prompt List
Day 1 : Ace Chemical Processing Plant
Day 2 : Robinsville, Midtown
Day 3 : Wayne Manor
Day 4 : Nightwing (different from Dick Grayson)
Day 5 : Upper West Side, Downtown
Day 6 : Arkham Asylum
Day 7 : The Gentleman Ghost
Day 8 : Man Bat
Day 9 : Crime Alley, Uptown
Day 10 : The Joker
Day 11 : The Riddler
Day 12 : Bruce Wayne (different from Batman)
Day 13 : Old Gotham Homeless Shelter, Downtown
Day 14 : Chinatown, Downtown
Day 15 : Jason Todd (different from Red Hood)
Day 16 : Amusement Mile, Uptown
Day 17 : Black Mask
Day 18 : The Iceberg Lounge
Day 19 : Commissioner Jim Gordon
Day 20 : Gotham City Police Department
Day 21 : Tricorner
Day 22 : Oracle (different from Barbra Gordon)
Day 23 : Hush
Day 24 : Wayne Enterprises
Day 25 : Jack Ryder
Day 26 : Upper East Side, Midtown
Day 27 : Richard “Dick” Grayson (different from Nightwing)
Day 28 : Fashion District, Downtown
Day 29 : Alleytown, The Slums
Day 30 : Arkham City
Day 31 : Scarecrow!
Have fun!!!!!
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iluffyouxo · 2 years
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hꪮᥒꫀᥡ ᥣꫀꪑꪮᥒ ᖯᥣᥲᥴk tꫀᥲ || jꫀꪮᥒ jᥙᥒgkꪮꪮk
방탄소년단 — jeon jungkook x black, female oc
It was a bright morning, almost nippy when the wind blew at a certain pace. The pavement glistened like a carpet of crushed diamonds in the early morning sunshine. Though, the few grey clouds that dotted the sky made a promise of rain later on in the day—and, if the weather report is reliable enough to go off of, that later would be sooner than noon.
However, despite those warnings, I decided to go on my Saturday morning walk to gain inspiration for my artwork.
I had been in a slump for months now and, if I’m being honest with myself, it’s mostly due to my poor life balance between school, work and my own sanity. So, maybe a long walk through campus will do me some good…hopefully.
“Kyoko? What’re you doing out here so early?”
A familiar voice and a pair of steps sounded from behind me. “Zenni and Chae Yeong? Hey!” I smiled as my two closest friends walked up to me in cropped hoodies and sweats. “I’m going on a walk, and you?” Zenni smiles back at me, “Same here.”
“It’s too pretty of a morning not to,” Chae Yeong finished, “How about we walk together?” I nod, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”
“So, have you seen him…?” Chae Yeong mumbles to us as if she’s telling the world’s darkest secret. I raise an eyebrow at her. “Seen who?” Zenni voices my thoughts.
“The new student? Jeon Jungkook?”
My eyes grow wide and I gasp, “No way. The Jeon Jungkook…? Nope…never heard of him.” I chuckle as Chae Yeong huffs and slaps my arm. “I’m being serious Kyoko!”
“Okay, so who’s this ‘Jeon Jungkook’ you speak of?” Zenni asks between amused snickers. Chae Yeong’s eyes sparkle as she begins to explain.
“I first met him in Professor Mae’s class. She was in the middle of explaining our social marketing project when he ran in panting and apologizing. And he sat down next to Bin Mi-Gyeong, lucky bitch. He has dark hair, a tattoo sleeve and wears all black. From what I gathered he’s a gamer on YouTube from Busan with over twelve million subscribers and eight million followers on Instagram. He curates at least one point two million likes between both platforms almost every day—Instagram, of course, gaining the most the fastest.”
Chae Yeong pulls out her phone and shoves it into our faces, my eyes forced to see a rather aesthetically pleasing Instagram page of an almost bunny looking, doe eyed boy.
“And he’s talented at everything he does. Just name it! Dance, singing, drawing, photography, boxing! He’s good at it all!”
I cross my arms. “And you just found out all of this…today?” The brunette only nods as she begins scrolling through the guy’s pictures—of which I’m sure she’s done a million times in the past hour.
“Come to think of it, I have heard of him,” Zenni starts, “Frankie Lennox was gossiping about him to her group of friends in class yesterday.”
“He just got here and he’s already making a fuss? I dunno if I’mma like this Jungkook guy,” I grumble. Chae Yeong just waves me off. “Oh, please, you say that now. But, wait until you see him. He missed most of his classes yesterday, but you share all of his morning courses.” Zenni laughs, “Be sure to say hi to him for me.” I roll my eyes, “Whatever.”
“Bak Yong, is that him? The one everyone’s been gawking over?” She sends me a dirty look but nods before returning back to her schoolwork.
Truthfully, I couldn’t help but to feel a bit curious. The boy had been the talk of the town lately. He and his friend, Bak Jimin, were rising in fame at the school rapidly. It was almost scary how far looks alone could get you. That’s definitely something I could never relate to. I sigh. “Someone like him would totally end up with someone like Zenni or Chae Yeong…maybe even Yoko.”
Yoko was my younger sister of two years. But, even so, I seemed like the youngest. She was more beautiful and more talented than I ever was. And it had always been that way. Though, I had never been jealous of her…I could only ever be proud of her accomplishments. Proud of the fact that she had never ended up like me.
In a weird way, I guess that makes me kind of pathetic.
Another day had passed and I found myself in my pajamas eating ramen with Zenni and Chae Yeong. “You saw him today, right?”
“For damn near five hours.”
“What was your reaction?” I sigh, “I only thought of how he would be a perfect match for Yoko.”
There was a long pause after that (the only sound cutting the silence was the slurping of my noodles).
“Yoko? Why do you think so highly of her?” Zenni questions, and I could hear the faint trace of frustration in her voice. I shrug. “I’m just proud of who she’s become. I am her older sister after all.” Chae Yeong growls, “You know she doesn’t think the same of you.” I only shrug again. “What does that matter? She’s better than me in every way…and that’s okay.”
“And do you really think that?” Zenni raises an eyebrow at me. I nod. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” I smile at her before looking down at the empty broth of my cup noodles.
It is okay, right?
“Now that I’ve explained your semi-finals project, I’ll be calling out the groups I chose. Since the class is uneven, there will be one team of three. Sītú Chan-juan and Kim Nabi, Ahn Min Jeong and Cha Ga Eul, Jeon Jungkook and Kangjeon Kyoko, Seok Nari and Asaki Luan—“
The world sat still for a moment. Everything went mute. And I could only focus on the fact that Professor Nam had just announced that Jeon Jungkook was my art project partner.
I could practically feel the hundreds of jealous eyes burning holes into every side of my head. I gulp.
I am so dead.
“Bak Yong, Bak Jimin and Seonghun Min. Please, go sit next to your partners. These will be your new assigned seats for the remainder of the year since you will have the same partners for the finals. Get started when you’re ready and remember to have fun, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
The months of effort I put in to ignore him just so I could avoid a situation such as this one went down the drain as soon as Jungkook sat down in what was once Bak Yong’s seat. I groan, “What a disaster.”
“What’s a disaster?” He blinked at me with innocent eyes and a cheerful grin. “Hi, I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I mumble. “Kyoko.”
“So, you’re Yoko’s older sister, huh?”
At the mention of Yoko’s name I sit up straight in my seat and turn all the way to face him. “You know Yoko?” He nods. “Yeah, we’re close friends. She told me that you think the world of her so, mentioning her would get me on your good side. You’re really scary and cold, did you know that?”
I glare at him. “How do you know Yoko?”
“She’s a really popular singer on YouTube these days. We met playing Among Us during a livestream with some mutual friends.” I purse my lips, “Well, if you’re good enough to be Yoko’s friend then, I guess you’re okay.”
“She said you’d say that, too…but, she doesn’t speak very highly of you.” I shrug. “So? Anyways, let’s get working on the project.”
A week. An entire week has past since I became Jungkook’s desk mate and project partner.
An entire week of threats and bullying. An entire week of bloody fights and teacher conferences.
An entire week of no motherfucking peace.
And yet Jungkook sat in front of me with the most carefree smile and, truly, wholeheartedly, I wanted to deck him in his pretty face so damn bad. But, instead, I grind my teeth together and continue searching for a reference for the portrait we decided to work on.
“Kyoko…?” His voice is soft as he murmurs my name. I glance up at him. “Yeah?”
“Can I…use you as reference for the portrait?” He’s shy as he asks. It really made me want to punch him even more.
“Why? Just use Yoko,” I reply dismissively.
“But, I—“
I glare at him.
“I wanna draw you.”
I sigh and sip my coffee. What the hell for? Though, as I continue to stare at him, I couldn’t bring myself to voice my thoughts. “Alright, fine, but don’t be upset with me when the painting gets ruined.”
And in turn his infamous bunny smile is directed at me as a faint blush dusts his cheeks. “Thanks.”
At some point honey lemon black tea—that and iced coffee—became my favorite drink to sip on while perfecting my art skills. And I had shared my newly found obsession with Chae Yeong, Zenni, Yoko and Jungkook.
It wasn’t long before him and I began sharing one cup with two straws of the sourly sweet flavored tea as he sketched me in his notebook more times than I cared to remember and as I sketched out different backgrounds for the easel.
“Y’know…you’re really pretty, Kyoko.”
“Stop mumbling nonsense.”
Jungkook had also become a lot more bolder and a lot more frequent when it came to voicing his nonsensical thoughts. Which, more or less, were compliments directed at me.
“But, it’s not nonsense. I really think so,” he continued confidently.
I put down my pencil with a sigh. “You don’t have to lie to me to get on my good side, Jungkook, I already like you.”
The ravenette blinks harshly at me before his nose scrunches up disapprovingly, “You can’t even tell a compliment from an insult. Does everyone really think that lowly of you?” I only shrug. “When you have the most perfect and beautiful younger sister, you’re kinda always compared. And…I’m okay with that.”
It’s silent for a moment too long, and I think the conversation is over, when he lets out a frustrated groan.
“I know we’ve known each other for barely a month now but, I’ve known your sister for two years and I think that—“ He cuts himself off, his face flushing a potent bright red. I raise an eyebrow at him, a gesture that he continue his sentence.
“…I think you’re more worth it than she is.”
“Worth what?” I breathed.
“Everything that she has and more.”
I glance up at him for a while. Trying to grasp onto every word he’s stated. I’m worth that much to him? That thought alone caused me to smile at him. “Whatever,” I chuckle, “Just get back to work.”
I pick up my pencil again, ready to begin drawing, when his next words caused me to drop it on the floor and abruptly stand up from my chair, “I like you, Kyoko.”
My fists begin to quiver as I glare down at him. “Alright, dude, you can stop now. Do you really think I’m that gullible? I can’t believe you.”
I hastily grab my things and rush out of the main campus library. “What an idiot,” I huff.
I didn’t see him for the next few days after that. We occasionally sent pictures of our progress to the project and some times, every now and then, he’d send a voice memo of him singing American slow jams.
Other than that…the weekend was quite boring.
“It hasn’t even been a month since we started talking to each other, do you think he actually likes me?” I voice my thoughts to Zenni as she smacked on some cereal she had ordered from abroad. Chae Yeong was in her room cussing out some poor fella on her team in Apex.
“Kyoko…he’s liked you far longer than that,” Zenni speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What the hell makes you say that?”
“He came up to us not too long before your project began, asking us if you hated him and if there was a way to make sure you two became partners. He said that Yoko gave him a misinterpreted version of yourself and that you’re the exact opposite of who she said you were.”
“It sounds as if Yoko is jealous of you,” Chae Yeong interjects. “She wanted to make sure Jungkook never liked you. Guess that backfired.”
Chae Yeong turns around from where she had been rummaging through the fridge. “So, are you gonna call him?” She takes a sip of her beer before heading back inside her room.
The phone rang once…twice…, “Hello? Kyoko?”
My breath hitches at the sound of his voice. This is the first time we’ve spoken on the phone. I clear my throat. “D’you wanna go to the gaming basement with me?”
I hear him take in a quick breath before humming. “Uh…yeah, sure. That sounds fun.”
“Yeah? Okay. Does around twelve sound good?”
He hums again. “Yeah, that’s fine. C’ya then.”
Somehow, in the middle of playing COD, his lips met mine after a well-deserved victory. “You didn’t push me away,” he breaths. I chuckle, “Don’t worry, I thought about.” I sit back in my seat and hum. “But, you’re a damn good kisser, Mr. Jeon.”
He blinks, shocked by my bluntly honest answer, “Really? Well—uh—thanks.”
I lean in close with a small grin, poking his nose, “Lemme kiss you again, okay?” Jungkook begins coughing with wide eyes and leans away. “Eh!? You can’t just say stuff like that Kyoko!” I laugh, “Why not? I liked it so, naturally, I’d wanna do it again.” I lay my head on the table and grab his hand.
“I kinda like you…I wanna kiss you more than once.” Being so honest was foreign to me, however, I didn’t mind it all that much.
After getting over his initial shock Jungkook laid his head down next to mine. “Then, do me a favor—“ he pecks my lips, “—become my girlfriend.” I hum. “Sure, why not? I’d be doing you a favor.” He chuckles and grips my hand back, “Yeah, you would be.”
“WHAT? He’s your boyfriend now!?” Chae Yeong yells in my face. She squeezes my shoulders. “The progress happened so quickly!”
“Yeah, it did,” I smile to myself.
It was a cloudy morning as Chae Yeong and I walked around campus. We were meeting up with Zenni and Jimin (who had began dating not too long ago) at our local coffee shop Honey Lemon. Kind of an ironic name. “Kyoko!”
I perk up at the voice that beckoned me. “Kookie.”
Chae Yeong waves happily at him as his steps sync with ours. “Heading to the cafe?” He grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers. I nod. “Yeah.”
“Then, let’s go together.”
I grin, “Mmmm. Yeah, let’s go.”
“You guys are such love birds,” Chae Yeong cackles, “But, I totally called it.”
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sunfish-exotics · 2 years
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General rambles (both about reptiles & life & art)
Hey guys! I apologize for not being super active / responsive lately, I’ve been really busy getting prepped for brumating snakes / next season, moving lots of cages and animals around, and OH yeah this show this weekend lol
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Yeah! I’ll be there with western hognoses, leopard geckos, art, and a couple gently used AP cages. That’s pretty much it for the reptiles portion of today’s ramblings with sunfish so I’m gonna put the rest below a cut
In life news I’ve really been doing some serious thinking about what I want and how to achieve those goals. I was bouncing around the idea of going back to school (FOR ART!) Which is something I’ve never attempted at a higher-education level. Long story short I don’t think full time university would be a good option for me for both financial and time commitment reasons. I would have to do TWO full years of general art classes before I could even apply for a BFA program and that’s really just not realistic for me. Instead I’m going to be taking some enrichment classes at one of the local community colleges, some online courses, and developing my own curriculum to really COMMIT to being a full-time artist. I’d be able to keep a part time job during this in addition to my reptile stuff so finances wouldn’t be too bad and I could continue my house down-payment savings.
Some things to look forward from me if you’re into my artwork!
-> Starting a youtube channel to document my growth and experiences as someone not pursuing an art degree / trying to make self-driven schooling work, and share just generalized art content
->Creating an instagram account just for art (reels! posts! curated content!)
->Really working hard to bring new products to my Etsy, redbubble, etc
->Expanding into other online art marketplaces
-> MAYBE look into streaming? I’ve tried and I don’t think my existing internet / computer setup has enough POWER to handle really dedicated streaming but it may be something to look into investing in if there’s enough interest.
-> EVENTUALLY a patreon with a sticker of the month club, maybe enamel pin club, that kind of thing. I have PLANS!
I’m not going to like... spam my channel / instagram or anything on this tumblr. I’ll probably make an announcement when they’re up and running but after that just try to create something from scratch!
If any of yall are making it work as full time artists (or even part time artists!) I’d love to chat about your experiences and if you have any advice, please don’t hesitate to send me a dm! I’m really nice lmao I know I can come off as intimidating to people who don’t know me well ;-;
That’s all for now!
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musicarenagh · 3 months
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A Star on the Rise: Zara DuCrôs Debuts with "Ball Game" Allow me to present to you Zara DuCrôs – New Zealand-raised singer and actress, now based in New York, who has already created quite a stir with her debut release, ‘Ball Game. What’s dope is that Zara knowingly assumed her mom’s maiden name to be unique in an environment that is saturated with vanilla names. Her work is inspired by real life experiences or people she holds dear, the setting of New York offers her the coolest environment to be creative in. Music has always been a part of Zara’s culture as soon as it opened its doors to the public. She had this ill Ukrainian piano teacher named Nataliya in her childhood that played a huge role in her sound and love for music. It is possible to see/hear those formative years in her songs. Talking about that beat, ‘Ball Game’ is a loaded up pop-rock kind of deal, but you ain’t seen nothing yet from Zara. Inspired by such artists as Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, and The 1975, her development of a new style allows for acoustic and soft vibes to fuse with the harder elements in the most intriguing manner. It means that there are no limitations, there are no guidelines that one has to adhere to when creating artwork. Listen to Ball Game https://open.spotify.com/album/0RcJF44iBHpnixYCFN0zET Follow Zara DuCrôs on Spotify Instagram Tiktok What is your stage name? Zara DuCrôs Is there a story behind your stage name? Well, ‘DuCrôs’ is my mother’s maiden name, and it’s actually one of my middle names. My real last name is ‘Smith’, but I decided against using it given there are already so many prominent ‘Smith’s’ on the entertainment scene. ‘DuCrôs’ also just sounds cooler to be honest, and it’s French! Where do you find inspiration? I draw inspiration from a lot of areas in my life, though I primarily find it in the relationships I have or have had with people around me. I enjoy writing about specific periods of my life; thus far it’s usually the most turbulent, change-inducing, or hopeful eras that produce the best music. It helps to live in NYC as well – there’s inspiration everywhere here. What was the role of music in the early years of your life? I would say that music was one of the pillars foundational to my life from a very early point. I’ve been singing as long as I can remember, and picked up the piano at age 7. Music, in various forms, whether it was playing Tchaikovsky or singing pop songs in the car with my mum, was the most important outlet for me. It’s always been the way I am best able to express myself. Are you from a musical or artistic family? I can’t really say that I am – I’m the only one of my family who has decided on a career in the arts. However, my brother (one of the most talented people I know) is a really talented lyricist. He used to write a lot. Who inspired you to be a part of the music industry? This question is hard! I don’t know if there is any one person that inspired me, because I always felt like it was something I wanted to do. Although, one of my best friends (who has a band himself) convinced me while we were still in high school to start doing more with my music, because I was always too scared to. Maybe I could put it down to him! How did you learn to sing/write/to play? Singing is something I don’t think I ever learned properly, but I was definitely a part of school choirs growing up. I figured out how to write songs gradually as I entered the teenage years – I taught myself, really just drawing upon my favourite artists as a reference/rubric for what sounded right. When it comes to playing piano, I grew up with a lovely Ukrainian piano teacher called Nataliya. She was so passionate that it definitely rubbed off on me. I gained classical training with her for a little over ten years – I still think about her a lot and miss those days. What was the first concert that you ever went to and who did you see perform? The first concert I ever saw was Justin Bieber’s ‘Purpose’ tour – I was about 13 years old and probably just fan-girled the whole night.
How could you describe your music? I would describe my music as a blend of pop and punk influences, with lyricism that explores the turbulence of girlhood. This new single has a pop-rock vibe to it, though a lot of my other work I plan to release is more of an acoustic sound – soft pop stretching from a piano ballad to a more folky/indie pop track. I think that my sound will be ever changing! Describe your creative process. It definitely differs, though usually I will sit down at the piano when I’m feeling inspired and bang out a song in anywhere between 30 minutes to a couple of days. Sometimes that’s frequent, and sometimes I have huge dry spells. I have a journal that I’m constantly jotting down ideas into – lyrics, concepts, experiences, etc. so when the idea for a verse or a catchy hook strikes, I have the concept ready to go. Or vice versa! What is your main inspiration? A lot of things; mostly my relationships with people who are important or have been important to me. What musician do you admire most and why? I struggle to narrow that down to one. Lyricism is super important to me – I love clever lyrics. For that reason, I love artists like Lizzy McAlpine, Sophie Holohan, Olivia Rodrigo and Taylor Swift. I also love creative production and am really impressed by artists like The 1975, Del Water Gap and Harry Styles who I feel take risks all the time and make interesting choices when it comes to producing a track. Did your style evolve since the beginning of your career? My career is really only just beginning, so I don’t know that I could speak to the evolution of my style. I definitely think that it will in the future; after just my first release I can feel myself wanting to experiment more with my sound. Who do you see as your main competitor? I honestly have no idea. The other girlies in pop? I definitely have a lot more to produce before I’m competing at the top! [caption id="attachment_55973" align="alignnone" width="1500"] I definitely have a lot more to produce before I’m competing at the top![/caption] What are your interests outside of music? I’m also an actress! I’m frequently taking technique classes and recording self-tapes. I also love team sports, going for nice walks etc. Recently I’ve had a weird obsession with the weather as well that I can’t really justify. If it wasn't a music career, what would you be doing? If not acting, maybe journalism. That interested me for the writing elements – I also think I would have enjoyed being a live-cross reporter on the news. What is the biggest problem you have encountered in the journey of music? I think getting over what people might think about what I put out – it took me a while to take the first step, but at the end of the day I’m really proud of what I made, and I like my music! So it’s alright if no one else does. If you could change one thing in the music industry, what would it be? I’m not entirely sure. Though if I speak for right now (as in June 2024), I would love to see more fun, dance-able pop music make an appearance. I feel as though as a culture we peaked with summer music in 2016 and it hasn’t been the same since. Less moody ballads (though I do love those) and more upbeat bangers! Why did you choose this as the title of this project? The line in the chorus “we’re playing different ball games” seemed to encompass the song best out of them all – so calling the song ‘Ball Game’ felt like the best choice. https://open.spotify.com/artist/16gvrEBggrhpyppxDsbvVC What are your plans for the coming months? I have plans to get the ball rolling on an EP soon; there are a lot of tracks that I am excited to share, so I would love to put out a larger body of work moving forward. Do you have any artistic collaboration plans? Not as of yet, though I’ve been meeting a lot of new artists in recent months who are super talented, so who knows! A collab could be on the horizon. What message would you like to give to your fans? I’m not sure that I have
any fans just yet! But if there are any out there, I would want to say that my goal is always to make music that helps you feel seen. I know how much music has helped me deal with the rockiness of relationships and change throughout the years – if my music can help anyone in the same way it helps me, that would mean the world.
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I guess being in the hospital has some benefits.
Maybe it’ll be good for me to be here. I can have time to read and draw, and process emotions that are pretty difficult to think through. I’ve been appreciating writing on this ‘blog,’ it’s helpful to work through thoughts and is quite frankly significantly easier than actual journaling. I’ve got to get over my stupid stigma with the internet and embrace this platform. I know nobody reads these, and I generally feel safe posting here. Ultimately, the only harm it can do is embarrassment. I think.
Jonathan texted me yesterday for the first time in the past year and a half. It was a message that was long and hard to read. It’s sort of unbelievable, the audacity he has to reach out after all this time and claim to still care. “I came across some of your artwork while scrolling through Instagram a few months ago and I know some of your pieces stem from our relationship, or at least how you must have felt.’ At least how I must have felt. Avoiding blame yet again; it’s not about how bad our relationship was, it was how I felt. He went on to apologize about how he treated me, and how he feels bad about how much he hurt me. The artworks he saw apparently caused him so much painful emotion that he had to “take some time off of work to process how you’ve felt and how you viewed me.” Awww, poor little baby. My artwork expressing how shitty you treated me hurt your feelings??? I am SoOo so sorry. I’m just the worst, aren’t I?
Take your fucking pity party somewhere else - I don’t have the time or space to care about anything you have to say. I really just can’t imagine what you’re  going through :’’’’( your life must be so hard. It’s just absolutely absurd. He went on to ask me if I could meet up with him to chat: “I would really enjoy hearing about how things have been going for you and just get to know who you’ve become over these past few years,” in other words, ‘I would love to sit and try to explain away all of my wrong-doing, tell you about how good a man I am now, prove to you I deserve you - that you and I belong together. I would love to sit and manipulate you into taking me back and leaving everything behind to run away with me to a space where I can slowly trick you into an abusive relationship again without you evening noticing. I would love to have sex with you, to feel comfort in your body that I took as mine, your innocence that I could once again have (because there’s no way you’ve had sex again after me, right?). 
“I hope your day is going well and that you have a great holiday season.”
At first I didn’t even recognize the number; I thought it might be Hunter or even Russell. Russell was honestly my assumption at first when I started reading - I knew I recognized the 1101 and associated it with ‘ex.’ It just wasn’t associated ‘Jonathan’ anymore. My brain literally did not register. It wasn’t until I read ‘opens any old wounds’ that I knew it wasn’t Russell, it wasn’t Hunter or some old friend - it was shit-for-brains that still can’t fucking let go. 3 years this February, not to count the pieces of our relationship that were dying prior to that. This was high school. I was 15, 16, 17, then 18 - all those years I will never get back. The eating disorder and Covid taking up the only two semesters that you weren’t in my life. I didn’t get to go to the football games, friends sports events, even my own art clubs without you watching, or quite simply not letting me. I missed out on so much of high school not by my choice, but by your taking.]
There was a piece of me that had always wished you would one day see my work, see the pain in the pieces I showed for everyone to see. ‘NOT YOUR PROPERTY, ‘a tribute to taking back what’s mine,’ bleeding March,’ ‘was,’ new people,’ and many MANY more; all of them in copin g and processing 
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rantrambles · 3 years
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Ever get so upset you make a Tumblr account to vent?
I haven’t even listened to The Penumbra Podcast yet but it’s on my list because it’s insanely popular and the cosplays I’ve seen are hot as hell (A+ to all the cosplayers I’ve seen you’ve done great work). Now, with the recent news surrounding the podcast, I’ll wait till it’s done if I ever do get into it. I’m Asian and part of the LGBT community but I’m not nonbinary so I can’t say much about the trans represention in the art but I wanted to add my two cents on the matter as a person of color and someone examining the situation from the outside. Also, before I get deeply into it, I’m not the only person of color with opinions on this matter so if people have their own frustrations and criticism with the racism in The Penumbra Podcast and/or the new artist they hired, definitely listen to them too. These are my own personal opinions, and I’m sure other people will disagree and that’s fine. We’re all going to have different views on this so bear that in mind. Also, feel free to correct me or add anything if I’ve missed some information. Here’s a great breakdown of the whole situation for those that don’t know what happened. Finally, I was very hesitant to post this, but I felt it was important because I make a statement at the end on how race should be presented in a podcast format so if you are interested in making a podcast and want to have a diverse range of characters, please skip to the end to read those thoughts.
I’ll start off by saying, I’m not even that upset with the new artist that The Penumbra Podcast hired. I know that statement alone is controversial but I don't personally know them, and I’m not going to judge who they are as a person by a few pieces of art they’ve made. They are the least of the problems that I have here. Since the announcement and the backlash, I’ve been scrolling through the artist’s Instagram account and I can tell why people find the designs offensive, but I’m also comparing the designs to the artist’s other work, and I honestly believe that’s just their style. They’ve exaggerated the features of just about every character they’ve made, regardless of race or gender. From what I’ve seen the sharp angles and overly round curves in the anatomy that make some of the character’s features more jarring are how they prefer to draw. I’m sure they’re capable of drawing more realistic proportions but for the most part they’re art aims to call attention, be bold, and create distinguished features. Not inherently a bad thing on its own.
And yeah I’d understand the issue if this were a scenario where the artist heard how these characters acted in the podcast and thought “hey, obviously this character is a black woman because they are super strong and therefore must have big muscles, no other woman could look like that” or “hey, this character has to be Asian because they act super seductive sometimes better draw them as such.” But from my understanding the race was already decided by previous official artists and a general description of the characters were already generated by the audience, similar to how The Magnus Archives leaned towards drawing scrawny Jon with black, greying hair and dark skin. The new artists couldn’t really change those features even if those features aren’t described in canon because a depiction that strayed too far from popular fandom interpretation would make the character’s unrecognizable to the fanbase. 
I think the reason this became such a big issue for most people is because the new Penumbra artist used their exaggerated art style when making these characters and people of color and nonbinary folks already see themselves drawn as these exaggerated caricatures all the time (with those images being used to further discriminate against them). I’m sure the artist didn’t mean for their art to be offensive, but that of course doesn’t change how it was received. 
According to some, the poses and expressions the artists chose did not fully represent the characters entirely and only served to further perpetuate harmful stereotypes, and I’ll have to take their word for it because I still haven’t listened to the podcast so I have no idea how the characters act. But again much of the criticism is based on the one line-up and doing a deeper dive into the artist’s work I managed to find artwork that was much less offensive. Here some art where Vespa is depicted in a non-violent pose and one where Vespa is in a threatening pose but not an overly violent one. Here is Peter drawn in a non-seductive pose. Hopefully, the artist truly does keep the criticisms in mind as they work on the new official art. I’m just not the type of person that wants to get the pitchforks out and cause this particular person to lose a job they seemed really excited about over their old character line-up, especially when that person is also part of a marginalized group.
Again, that’s just my opinion on that particular artist. Those who are offended by their art are still valid in how they feel, and the artist should absolutely take their criticism to heart to better how they represent the characters.
What I’m more upset about is that I think The Penumbra Podcast should never have released official art for their characters in the first place and that’s their mistake that they refuse to own up about. They have made it clear that the story was never meant to portray characters of colors, a fact emphasized by the fact they hired mostly white actors from the start. They only started releasing art of the characters to get a profit. And the thing is they know what they did was wrong. All I had to do was search Penumbra Podcast racism and there is a note on their website saying that they archived some old official art.
“We have discontinued all Penumbra merchandise that uses the original character designs, and in the meantime, any profits on the sales of that merchandise will go to the For The Gworls project. We also realize that the depiction of these characters as POC, while not appropriate for us to use in our marketing and merchandise, has nonetheless become personally meaningful to many POC listeners. For that reason, and because we do not wish to distance ourselves from our mistake, we are keeping these images on our website for archival purposes. Though we do want to make it clear that many of the main/featured voice actors are white and that we did not write the characters to represent any specific POC experience, you are, as always, free to imagine these characters in any way that you like.”
I went to their shop and they still sell posters and pins with the character’s faces on them, but they are donating it to a good cause so hopefully that stays the same. However, I still find it a little uncomfortable that they are still selling character merch and have plans to continue selling character merch. They have no right to dissuade the fans that already found representation in the characters, but they also have no right to profit off the representation that was built, regardless if they made the story. 
Let’s compare this to another piece of popular media. I love Avatar the Last Airbender and, I liked the ATLA voice actors just fine but there should have been more people of color doing voice acting behind the screen too. The voice actors for that show were mainly white too, however, the creators knew that they would be making poc characters. That’s what makes the difference. Did they still choose to go with mostly white voice actors? Yes. Could they have done better and pay more people of color? Also yes. But I’m not as furious at them because they did their research on the cultures they were basing the ATLA world off of and intentionally gave us a show where Asians could see characters that looked like them represented on the screen. The Penumbra Podcast did not do any of that. Again, they openly admitted that it was never their intention to make the character’s people of color when they made the podcast so that goes to show no research was made to properly represent specific cultures. The color of the character’s skin in their official designs therefore became more of aesthetic choice rather than representation, and it wasn’t even their aesthetic choice to begin with!
Race isn’t a color you can just throw onto the character because you feel like it. So I want this to be a lesson to anyone that wants to make a podcast: if you want to include poc characters please do some research into the cultures you plan to represent the way you would with any other form of media. Just because the audience can’t see the characters and just because it’s harder to smoothly introduce the character’s appearance doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be lazy on how you present the characters. Do research before you start writing the first episode and take the time to hire poc actors. Hiring poc actors is actually the least that can be done to show representation. Also, since the audience cannot visually see the race of the characters on a podcast and it can’t typically be described the way you would in a book, you’ll have to be creative. It’s not my job to say how, but my suggestions would be, before the fans come up with their own image of the character, you need to establish race in the first few episodes or release character profiles on a website so that the fans know you canonically intended the characters to be of a certain race even if you aren’t able to mention it in the actual podcast. If you are unwilling to do any of these then the best route is to avoid stating race at all and allow the audience to build their own representation into your form of media. However, once this happens, you are not allowed to profit off popular fan interpretations. You lose all rights to create official art or images of the characters. You cannot use “we have a diverse cast of characters” when you market your story. It doesn’t matter whether you created the content or not, you did not create the representation for those minority groups.
It’s one thing for fans to build their own inclusivity into a form of art like a podcast, but it’s another thing for the creators who never worked to make the representation happen to take advantage of the representation that the listeners built for themselves. Thank you for attending my TedTalk.
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otonymous · 4 years
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⚠️ PSA: Everybody Hurts (When People Repost)
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Hello @thebestaqua32​,
Thank you very much for your Ask.  I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the fact that you are reaching out to ask me for permission before actually doing so.  Unfortunately, I do NOT allow my work to be reposted by anyone other than myself, on any platform, whether it is Wattpad, Instagram, Twitter, etc.
What follows is by no means directed towards you, dear @thebestaqua32​, but I thought I’d take this opportunity to talk about something many creators (writers and artists alike) have been dealing with for a while now, and me, myself, recently.
Over the course of the past 3-4 weeks, I have found instances of my work being reposted to no less than 3 different platforms, once with attribution in difficult to see fine print with no links back to the original source of my work, and twice with absolutely no credit at all.  As you can probably imagine, it was quite upsetting to me that pieces I’ve worked so incredibly hard on was being distributed in such a manner, and a lot of time and energy was expended in order to rectify the situation — time and energy that could’ve been otherwise used to create more content for my lovely readers and followers.
Unfortunately, reposting without permission from authors and artists is a common occurrence, and some may not realize the damage doing so can inflict.  I seek here to try to explain why reposting in this manner hurts everybody, not just the content creator.
Argument #1: 
“How can I possibly hurt someone by reposting their work?  The more likes and comments I generate on this post of mine just means I’m giving them free publicity!”
This is something I’ve heard many reposters say in defence of their actions, and while publicity is definitely a good thing for content creators, that is only the case if the people consuming a piece could be bothered to check its original source — that is, if exposure is a guarantee of user traffic being driven back to the creator’s website, social media accounts, etc.  And oftentimes, especially in this digital age of “see it and forget it” fast-consumption, most cannot be bothered to do so — the action that is one-step removed proves to be too much of an effort, even if it is merely clicking a link.
Please also consider this: many creators depend on commissions to make a living.  This avenue of revenue has only become more important in current times because we are in the midst of a pandemic.  People are literally relying on these funds to pay their rent and feed and support themselves and their families.  The ability of a creator to support themselves is thus dependent on the size of their fan base or their numbers of followers.  If people cannot be bothered to check the original source of a piece of writing or artwork, this essentially cuts down on their potential earnings.  You cannot commission a piece from someone or support them if you don’t know of their existence.
This is especially so if things are reposted without proper credit at all, as was the case with one of my works.  The worst part was that the stolen piece was taken from a project where the proceeds from all commissions were being donated to charity.  In doing so, the thousands of people who liked this post had no way of finding out about this charity project, which means that even if they would’ve been interested in donating, they would not have known how.  In essence, this translated to less money being raised to help those who really needed it in dire times.
So please, please, please do not think that the act of reposting hurts no one because that is simply not the case.  There needs to be a direct link between people that engage with the content and the creator, which is why reblogging on Tumblr is excellent (feel free to reblog any of my content here if you wish, dear @thebestaqua32​) and retweeting (without quotes!) on Twitter is great.  These are among the best ways to support us!
Argument #2: The act of reposting could potentially contribute to the decline of a fandom.
Imagine you spent hours, days or even weeks working on something — pouring your heart and soul into a piece — and when you finally shared it to the world, not much happened.  Maybe you got a few likes here or there, a couple of comments if you were very lucky.  How would you feel?  What conclusion would you draw?  Some might feel discouraged, others might stop creating altogether.
Imagine then, that same post receiving tons of comments and likes and legitimate shares because someone with a bigger following reposted it on their own social media account without your knowledge.  Imagine what you would’ve done with this information — the feeling that others loved and enjoyed your work and wanted to see more.  Perhaps it might’ve encouraged you to continue creating.
Case in point:
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I wrote this letter.  And if I weren’t alerted to the existence of this post, I would’ve never known that thousands of others had liked my work.  Also, that’s 124 comments I didn’t get the chance to read.  Furthermore, this was a piece that was written for the charity project.  Imagine how many potential donors we might have received if people knew about its source.
Feedback is absolutely crucial to creators.  It enables us to discover what others did and did not like.  Not only can it serve as a compass of sorts to guide our artistic progress and work (and create pieces that can cater to the needs and desires of those who consume it), it is also a point of communication between members of a given fandom.  It builds community.  And without a strong sense of community, a fandom flounders and could eventually fizzle out.
Without content creators, there is very little for people to consume.  Please support all of us by not reposting our work, especially without our knowledge and/or permission.
With that being said, please accept a giant THANK YOU from me to you for reading till the very end.  It is very much appreciated. 🙏🏻💕
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radiorenjun · 4 years
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my first and last || huang renjun
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¤ pairing : huang renjun x reader
¤ genre : fluff, slight crack, major angst, romance, drama, slight fantasy! au, slight coming of age!au, first love!au, slight 1880s!au, adventure!au, painter!renjun x street singer!y/n. runaway!au
¤ synopsis :  Huang Renjun was born on the coldest day on earth, which causes his heart to be frozen solid, requiring a replacement. The makeshift Doctor, Madam Wendy, who provides midwifery and medical services to the poor and the desperate of Edinburgh, grafts a miniature cuckoo clock in order to save it.
However his newfound cuckoo clock heart was so fragile that it could end him in a terrible fate of death if he does not follow the three rules said doctor had provided for him. One of which was he must never fall in love. Do come and enter this adventure through Renjun’s eyes as he falls for a street singer who hates wearing glasses despite of her poor eyesight.
¤ warnings: character death, HEAVY angst, mentions of blood, loss of family member, reader has terrible eyesight and is painfully oblivious, Madam Wendy mentions about her abortion, maybe some swearing (do people even swear in the olden days?), historical inaccuracies is sexy, heartbreak, renjun is mentally exhausted, mentions of taking ones life (once), adults smoking, reader wears glasses at the end. shakespeare shaming because i have a grudge against that man. hISTORICAL INNACURACIES. Renjun gets slapped by Wendy once, renjun gets hypothermia. i feel like this was quite rushed idk
¤ word count : 29.2k
¤ heavily inspired by  La Mécanique du cœur (the movie, not the novel because I’m not that cruel)
¤ playlist: my everything - nct u, instagram - dean, wayo - bang yedam, francis forever - mitski mitski, anxiete - pomme, faded in my last song - nct u, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, moi cest - camelia jordana, my first and last - nct dream, beautiful time - nct dream, 
¤ a/n: special thanks to @lebrookestore​​ for making this sexy header
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‘Love. What does that feel like?' Renjun would always wonder. 
As his paint brush strokes the canvas, eliciting a bright yellow mark on the object, Renjun continued to stare into his painting with a void of emotion. Whenever the occasional question 'what does it feel like to love or to be loved?' pops up in his mind, he would often furrow his brows and purse his lips in a small pout in confusion at the thought. 
Renjun didn't know what it felt like to love, for his caretaker, Madame Wendy, had always told him since he was a young boy that 'love is the last thing you need in this world, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.' Renjun didn’t care much for the aspects of love. How can he fall in love when he doesn’t even know what love is? What does it feel like to feel love? How can you feel love?
If you take one small glance at Huang Renjun, you would instantly have the assumption that he was a rather cold-hearted, emotionless young boy. Eyes so icy cold and void of emotion, it could send shivers down your spine. Though, fortunately for everyone else, it was quite rare of the young boy to walk out of his home. Some might say that he would step out of his home ‘once in a blue moon’ or whenever the sun shone brightly over the old town, which was quite rare considering it had been raining frequently these past few months in Edinburgh, France.
However, what they didn’t know was that the reason behind his infrequent appearance was quite tragic. He was an unfortunate young boy, really. Only a few people have known this, but long long ago, a sudden harsh snowfall hit his town on the day he was born. It was recorded as the coldest day on earth, for the snow had frozen everything in its path including the poor boy’s heart. Quite literally, not figuratively. 
Renjun’s biological mother had journeyed through the cold town to the house up the steeple. Rumors say, the quote unquote ‘witch’ of the town, who specialized in the medical department with her own unique ways that left doctors skeptical and poor. From what his caretaker had told him, she was holding her belly throughout the long journey as she tried her best to endure the cold without slipping on the frozen concrete. Muttering how if she could, she would’ve kept her child in her tummy safe and sound from the cruel world. 
How she slipped and fell unconscious in front of his current caretaker’s house with her tears frozen on top of her cold cheeks, how she was brought in and taken in just in time to warm up to gain consciousness and go through the birth process. He remembered being told how the moment he was born, he had to undergo intense surgery immediately for he almost didn’t survive. He remembered being told that his heart had turned cold. 
“Cold, not Gold, Renjun. A heart made of ice. As in cubes not cream,” as his caretaker would say. 
Since donors weren't available at the time as it was already way past midnight, he needed surgery before his heart stopped beating under the hard exterior of the ice growing around his heart. Luckily for him, Madame Wendy had improvised one with her excellent expertise. She built a small clock the size of her palm that nearly covered his whole chest at the time. Considering she was known for being a witch in town, (even though she tried to explain a countless amount of times that she was a mere mechanic with a medical degree) she miraculously provided him with a fragile heart made from scratch. 
However, the night of his birth was also the night his mother had decided to leave him with Madame Wendy, convinced that she would make a better mother for Renjun that she could ever have. It was quite a tragic tale. However, Renjun didn’t think much of it. Nor did he feel any sort of upsetting emotions like longing, curiosity and sadness. Why would he? He doesn’t even remember what his biological mother had looked like. He doesn’t know how to feel anymore other than the faux happiness his mother had taught him how to feel to ease the numbing feeling in his hollow, ticking heart held nothing but dust. 
A heart that was purely made out of strong wood, cogs and screws. One that makes soft, calming tick tocks that goes along with the soft pitter patters of rain drops with every beat, one that makes cuckoo’s every time it’s arrow struck 12. One that needs winding every single day with a golden key his caretaker had provided him ever since he was born. One with ironically three rules that he should always follow on a day to day basis. 
-
“Recite those rules once again, Renjun,” she ordered as she buttons up her adoptive child’s white shirt up to his neck. “Do I have to? I’ve been reciting this for years now,” Renjun would whine, looking down at his mother’s loving hands as she flicked her forehead softly with a face void of emotion. “It’s for your own good, Renjun. I can’t have you forgetting something this important, you know very well that your life depends on these three rules.” She tugged on the collar of her child’s shirt down. 
“Before I let you run off to town with me, I prefer that your heart would be much stronger,” she swiped her fingers through Renjun’s hair, swefting it to the side to make it neat. “Every beat of your heart is a minor miracle. You’re a fragile piece of work, far more fragile than glass,” the older woman explained, laying her hands on the boy’s shoulder with a grim expression. “I know,” Renjun replied with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders to release tension in his body. 
He sighed again, the young boy looked up at the ceiling to avoid his mother’s cold stare. “Firstly, never touch the hands of my heart,” he began, letting out an annoyed sigh as he felt his mother tucking his small key into the pocket sewed on his chest. “Yes, what else?” Madame Wendy asked, kneeling down to look at the child in the eye. “Keep your temper under control,” they recited in unison with the same emotionless tone. 
“And the last one?” 
“Whatever I do, I must never ever fall in love.” 
“Indeed, that’s why I’m so scared of letting you into town. You haven’t experienced love yet so far in your life, it is very important that you stay that way,” she said, standing up on her feet as her hand returned to Renjun’s shoulder. “I know,” he mumbled once again, looking up at his caretaker’s eyes as if to hide the fact that he wasn’t listening a total hundred percent to what she was saying. “It could be the very death of you, Renjun. Your fragile heart won’t be able to stand the emotional, mental and physical shock provoked with the feeling of love,” she explained once again, a worried expression glossing over her face.
“I know, I know. You tell me that almost everyday,” he muttered, playing with the small buttons on the clock that is his own heart. “My heart is not a toy, therefore it is not to be played with.” he almost rolled his eyes at the older woman, feeling her smack his hand away from his heart softly. “It is something that I want you to take seriously, Renjun,” she hissed, eyeing the small mechanic artwork on the boy’s chest. “How can I even fall in love when I don’t know anything about love?” 
-
To Renjun, today was like any other day of the year. The sun shining brightly against his skin, the cloudy grey sky accenting the sky’s beauty. His hair gelled to the side to reveal some of his forehead and leaving a few strands of his hair to tickle his skin perfectly, his calloused hand gripping his 60 x 90 cm canvas and his large box of acrylic paints to his side, his favorite paintbrush hanging against the skin in between his ear and his fluffy short hair. 
Spinning one of his smaller paint brushes in his free hand, right between his fingers as he walked down the sidewalk of his home town, trying to find a spot to sit and paint. It was his birthday recently, so his mother had delightfully just bought a fresh new set of acrylic paints, considering he finished them on his last painting which was the majestic dove fountain in the middle of the town less than a month ago. 
Renjun was only ten years old when his caretaker took him out to wander around town, which was on his birthday. It was then when Renjun was hitting the age of thirteen when his caretaker’s worry lessened when she saw that her child was nowhere to the point of Cupid’s next target. Therefore those annual town visits turned into monthly visits (under his caretaker’s supervision, of course) and when Renjun had turned thirteen years old, he had shown an interest in painting and drawing in his free time while Madame Wendy was working with a patient.
However, love can strike at any moment. And by the time Renjun became sixteen years old, he was finally allowed to venture into the town himself to paint landscapes and buy more art supplies at least once a week with a 5-6 PM curfew. Nothing more, nothing less. Cupid was cunning, therefore she believed that this was the best she could do. Considering he was a teenager, she couldn’t protect him as easily as she could back when he was still an infant. And that was what she had feared the most in her life. 
Renjun sighed heavily, looking around with emotionless eyes, a cold frown forming upon his lips as he leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow supporting on his thigh and his other free hand holding the canvas on top of his legs. He wondered if there was more to life than work and oil paints, eyes wandering on the busy streets filled with the latest carriages and the latest transportation vehicles. He felt as if his life had gone by boring and aimless without knowing how to express his emotions properly. Is this what life has come to in his 16 years of living? 
16 years of being almost completely isolated from this town without knowing what his caretaker was so worried about. Madam Wendy had absolutely nothing to be worried about. Renjun had witnessed love from time to time in the streets, watching a couple of different genders walking down the streets with loving expressions on their faces. Renjun could not decipher why you would be feeling such emotions. He had been venturing around town freely with his strict curfews for almost four months now. And all he’s done so far is wander around looking for something interesting to be his next muse or visit the local library to read books. 
One of the books Renjun was absolutely fascinated on reading was this book the librarian had recommended to him on his first visit, ‘The Great Expectations’ by Charles Dickens. It was a small story of a young boy named Pip who went through amazing life changing experiences and going through hardships with his rather abusive sister, his blacksmith mentor and falling in love as well with a girl named Estella. (He would always snicker whenever she comes up in a scene as her adoptive parent, Ms Havisham, ironically reminded him too much of Madam Wendy) 
He often wondered if Madam Wendy’s strong dislike towards the aspects of love was merely because of his fragile condition or was it because of something deeper? However, looking back at when he found his caretaker’s family albums which were mainly pictures of her winning awards and bragging about her medical degree, he highly doubts it. (It was still fun to imagine theories while it lasted, though!)
“Ms Havisham stares at Pip coldly, and murmurs to the girl at her side: ‘Break his heart, Estella. Break his heart!’” Renjun read, his eyes moving as he read the brief summary at the back of his book. Looking down at the cuckoo clock heart hidden under his cardigan, he clicked his tongue before chuckling bitterly to himself. “‘Break his heart’, huh? What utter bonkers, you can’t break someone’s heart. That isn’t physically possible,” he shook his head in amusement, placing his book on top of the box of acrylic paints beside him.
Just as he was about to leave and head back home, a peculiar merry tune reached his ears, causing Renjun to pause in his step, looking around to find the source with furrowed brows. If this was like those small street cat sketches he would draw in his free time, it would seem like his ears perked up in slight interest. The merry tune turned on a bright spark inside of the young boy’s chest, curiosity growing in his veins at the tune he has never heard before. It was as if the angels above had descended to the earth while playing a symphony of flutes and harmonicas, making soft high pitched catchy tunes in the air. 
Renjun felt entranced by the music, it was almost as if it was pulling him- beckoning him to come towards it, towards its source. It was as if his feet had a mind of his own as he fought with his own rational thoughts to either go back home or find the source of the beautiful merry tune. He couldn't help but walk to where it's coming from, curious of who was making such a wonderful tune. Sooner than later, he found himself walking down a small alley that led him into a steep staircase that led him to another part of his town. And with every step he took, the music grew louder and louder. Soon, finding light at the end to see the small part of town he rarely visits.
He put his palm on the dirty brick wall, ignoring the uncomfortable texture against his skin, head poking out as he tried to decipher where the majestic music was coming from. Squinting his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight for the staircase was dim enough to be mistaken for a tunnel with the broken rooftops covering the ceiling, he took a step forward. His eyes widening slightly in awe as he watched a young man his age push away a stack of crates to reveal the true source of music. 
A young girl, who Renjun figures is around his age, was cranking up a barrel organ right in front of the fountain. A hand going in circular motions on the crank, twisting the lever as she pulls it clockwise. The hand on her hip was soon placed on her chest when the music went on, clearing her throat softly as she began to sing along and harmonize with the melody. 
Renjun stood still in his place, baffled at the daunting beauty presented before him. The girl standing a few meters away from him was singing along merrily to the tune of the phonograph record, cranking up the lever as the other townsfolk that was walking by began to gather around her, enjoying the harmony that goes along with her soothing voice and symphony of flutes and harmonicas being produced by the portable barrel organ. 
As he sat down on the last step of the staircase to listen from afar, he couldn't help but pay close attention to the lyrics coming out of her lips. His paintbrush spinning in between his fingers as his mind focused on the words of the intro, smiling idly as he began to understand the words she was trying to convey. 
My vision's not quite right
But glasses make me look a sight
Enough to give the world a fright, like a sprite wearing specs
Renjun couldn't help but tilt his head in confusion. 'A sprite wearing specs? What the hell was that supposed to mean?' he pondered to himself as he found himself sitting at the last step of the staircase, leaning his white canvas against the dusty brick walls before putting his palm against his cheek, his elbow supported right above his knees as he gazed in awe at the little singer. 
His pupils never moved away from the young girl who began to twirl around with her hands on her hips. And that girl was you. He watched as you danced and sang as if you were in your own little world, almost clumsily bumping into an old man carrying two heavy wooden crates in his arms. He chuckled at the sight, a soft smile stretching across his face as he watched the girl apologize for almost bumping into him, making Renjun realise that she might have some sort of blurred vision with how she was squinting at the older man. 
‘Or she might just be an idiot,’ Renjun thought with a deadpan expression, laying his chin on his hand as he let out a soft sigh. Renjun had been living in this town all his life, despite the fact that he rarely goes out of his own home. He’s sure that no one in this town would blast such a merry tune so shamelessly in public while dancing and singing around like a fool expressing themselves. And it was quite rare for someone to walk around with a barrel organ out of nowhere.
The music stopped midway when you let out a small yelp and clumsily tripped over your own feet as you turned to your barrel organ when the lever stopped turning, eliciting a soft giggle from Renjun. You let out a soft grunt, huffing as you ignored the slightly concerned looks of your audience. You stood up quickly, hands coming up to brush off the dust and debris off your skirt, tugging on your suspenders as you attempted to ignore the embarrassed red tint on your own cheeks as you tried to play it off as cool. 
Renjun couldn't help but giggle at the sight, his cold emotionless expression morphing into one filled with the slightest bit of amusement. Though, it quite took Renjun aback when he saw you turn your head from your barrel organ to his figure sitting a few meters away from where you were standing, turning your head rapidly to find the source, raising a brow when your eyes met Renjun's. He stopped laughing when your eyes met briefly, eyes widening in shock as he began to fidget in his place as you began to waddle over to him, dragging your barrel organ with you. 
Wait, were you going over to talk to him? How did you even acknowledge his existence? Did you hear him snicker at your silly antics? Even if you did, how could you even hear him with how busy your surroundings were?
You stood before him with hands on your hips, lips pursed at him. "What were you laughing at?" you asked, a slight pout adorning on your lips as you looked down at the boy who raised his brow. Renjun felt his words pile up in his throat, trying to think of something to say without offending or upsetting the girl before him, as his Seulgi and Irene (his caretaker’s weekly patients) had always told him that ‘once you anger a feisty lady, there’s no turning back!’. 
Now that you were standing only a few inches away from him, he couldn’t help but take a small moment to observe your appearance more clearly. Renjun's eyes couldn't help but wander towards your figure, examining your facial features in full detail. The way the sunlight reflected upon your pupils, how your figure stood out that he could barely decipher that other people were present around them. The way your dress framed your body, lips pursed with a slight pout, eyelids fluttering softly as you blinked at him as you were waiting for a response. Renjun wondered how someone could look this entrancing.
"Hello? Are you listening to me?!"
Renjun blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. His mouth opening as his pupils went back up to catch the intense glare that the girl in front of him was sending. He closed his mouth when he realized he didn't know what to say in response, his mind turning blank when he saw you quirked one of your eyebrows up suspiciously. "I don't- How can you even hear me laugh from such a distance?" Renjun's voice faltered nervously, trying to avoid your question, furrowing his brows.
Your expression lightened slightly at the nervous boy, a bright smile of your own stretching across her face. "Out of all of my five senses, my hearing has always been the best considering I don't rely much on my eyes," you shrugged, sitting beside him on the last step of the stairs. Stretching your legs out as you used your palms to smoothen your dress before crossing your arms on your thighs and turning your head to look at the boy. "I saw you staring at me from a distance, was I that good?" you smirked, raising a brow. 
“You saw me? I thought you said you can’t rely on your eyes that much?” he asked in a weak attempt to dodge your question once again. “I lied, some lady told me that you were staring at me even after this old thing gave up on me,” you huffed, kicking your foot lightly at the old barrel organ in front of you. “Stop dodging my question. I don’t want to assume that you were stalking me or something,” you turned your head back to the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, wiggling the finger in front of his face teasingly.
Renjun bit the inside of his cheek, a scowl forming on his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Don't get too cocky, I was just perplexed. I was baffled to see someone playing such a merry tune so shamelessly in this lousy, depressing town," he responded with a click of his tongue. "How so?" you asked, tilting your head in confusion at the boy before looking around at your surroundings. “This town doesn’t look that depressing to me. Just needed some lighting up, that’s all,” your positivity elicited another scoff from the boy.
Renjun turned to you, brows furrowed slightly, confused as to how you couldn’t see how this town was the literal epitome of the Great Depression itself. "You're not from here, are you? Come to think of it, I've never seen you around here before." Renjun asked with a curious expression, watching as a cheeky grin formed across your face. "You got me there." You let out a soft chuckle, shrugging shamelessly before gazing up at the cloudy grey sky. 
"My parents and I just moved in today. They told me to run off and go dilly dally-ing around town so as to not bother them as they set up the whole place,” you explained, nodding towards your barrel organ. “I think I made a great first impression as the new lady in town, don’t you think?” you asked, giving him a sweet smile, ignoring how Renjun gave you an affirming shake of his head to say ‘no’ bluntly. “Well I definitely knocked your socks off, didn’t I? That’s enough for me!” you exclaimed brightly, clasping your hands together. 
“You don’t even know me. I don’t even know you. And how would you know if I was moved by your oh-so-stupendous actions?” Renjun rolled his eyes sarcastically, gripping his canvas tightly as he spoke, looking down at his shoes. He had never spoken to someone his age before without being forced by his caretaker or having to meet them for the first time at Madam Wendy’s home. It was quite new for him to be talking to a lady as well, for most of them were too shy to even talk to the young lad for his cold glare struck shivers down their spine.
“The sound of your laugh was enough to convince me that my actions were indeed stupendous, good sir!” you shot back confidently, a proud smile on your face as you placed your hands on your knees. “Oh bother,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes once again at you, ignoring how the confusion he felt when the cogs and gears of his heart were speeding up in action. “I’m Y/n, by the way! It’s good to know I made a friend on my first day in Edinburgh. Perhaps my mini shameless performance wasn’t entirely fruitless!” you reached your hand out, gesturing for him to shake it.
Renjun looked at your hand for a brief moment, pupils gazing back up at your happy expression, raising a brow at you before sighing heavily. He pulled his hand from his canvas before leaning over to shake your hand gently, “Renjun. Huang Renjun,” he introduced, his tone emotionless. Your hand was warm and soft unlike his own dry ones. Your hand had small specks of dust, which he assumed were from the dusty lever of the barrel organ while his own was covered with dry acrylic paint from his previously wet canvas.
Upon the warm feeling surging through his body at the touch, he felt the tiny mechanical bird inside of his cuckoo clock heart burst out from his clock in response when his skin touched yours, the sharp wooden beak hitting the fabric of his jacket alarmingly. Thus making a small, almost inaudible ‘cuckoo’ that only Renjun (fortunately) heard.
"It’s lovely to be your acquaintance, Huang Renjun. Though, I must warn you, I might not be here for long. My family has been travelling from town to town for years, searching for something.” You told him, pulling your hand back to your side with a small shrug. “Searching? Searching for what exactly?” Renjun asked, watching your expression turned unreadable. You shrugged, leaning your cheek against your palm, your elbow supporting on your leg. “That’s the thing! I’m not quite sure, they won’t tell me.”
“A treasure chest, perhaps?” Renjun suggested, putting a hand on his chin in thought. “Perhaps so. Though, I’m searching for something myself, as well.  I haven't found it yet and I doubt I'm going to find it here." you sighed simply, leaning your head up to gaze at the cloudy sky. Eyes watching as the sun was barely visible due to the thick grey clouds layering over it, signalling that it might rain soon. 
"Well, what are you searching for exactly? Treasure? Money? Wealth is considered as a greedy sin in this town, so I don't think this is some place where you can find those." Renjun hummed, his hand going back to gripping his canvas as he felt the cogs and gears in his heart working faster than usual. Hell, he didn't know why he was so curious about this. This was none of his business, after all. This was your problem, why was he so keen on keeping the conversation going? Why was he so intrigued in a young foreign singer his age he’s just met?
You shook your head, sucking your lips into your mouth before pulling your bottom lip out in a pout. "I’m not a fool, Renjun. I'm not really interested in wealth or fortune. Though, telling you about my life goal appears to be too intimate for us, don’t you think? We just met after all. So all that I can say at the moment that what I’m searching for is for me to know and for you to find out," you send him a teasing smile, causing Renjun to frown and roll his eyes in annoyance, leaning back slightly before sending you a deadpan expression, 
"Does your extravagant search involve spectacles? You might look like you might need them, I know someone that could handle that," he mused, his lips quirking up into a teasing smirk, causing a frown to display on your face. A dead panned expression morphing on to your facial features. "I may have really terrible eyesight, but that isn't a way to talk to a lady, Renjun." you pressed your lips on to a thin line, rolling your eyes at the boy as you let out a soft laugh with a shake of your head. 
"Besides, I look terrible in them. As I said in my song, which I'm sure like all the other folks in this world that doesn't pay attention to the message I was trying to convey in my lyrics, it-"
"It makes quite a sight, enough to give the world a fright like a sprite wearing specs?"
You furrowed your brows as Renjun let out a sheepish smile with a raise of his eyebrow, teasing you as a baffled expression laid upon your features at his words. "You were saying, Y/n?" he mused, waving his hand, gesturing for you to continue with your words. Watching as your baffled expression morphed into an amused one. “Oh, that was quite charming of you, Huang,” you shot back with a flirty grin, causing the ticking of his heart to quicken against his chest, sending him small jolts of pain which he attempted to conceal with small chuckles.
"I’m surprised you were paying attention to my lyrics instead of enjoying my song like a normal human being," you huffed, pushing his face away with your palm against the side of his face, eliciting a small laugh from the boy beside you. "You really shouldn't play games with your sight though. They say a blurry vision will leave you in the dark," Renjun recited, remembering the words his caretaker had always said to him about the patients who come in their quarters using spectacles or glasses. 
You shrugged innocently. "I prefer life all a blur than to look horrendous for a living. You and your pretty face wouldn't understand. Also, I tend to forget my glasses frequently despite the fact that my parents’ constant nagging to bring them around," you , causing Renjun's jaw to drop at your bold statement. He has heard compliments about his dashing looks ever since he was a young boy from Madam Wendy’s relatives but ‘pretty’ wasn’t one of them, he should’ve brushed the compliment off and focus on the context of your words and stop acting as if he hadn’t been complimented before.
But however, something about this felt peculiarly different than the times where his family complimented him on his charming looks.
"Pretty? I haven’t heard that one before," Renjun spoke rather hesitantly, still quite bewildered that a woman his age had shamelessly complimented on his looks to his face. Yet again, said woman has a terrible eyesight so he couldn't be too sure that it was a compliment. You laughed, bumping your shoulder against his softly. "That’s the only thing you got out of my words? Are you an insecure lad, Huang?" you chuckled, giving him a slightly sheepish smile. “Are you sure you don’t need spectacles?” Renjun snapped back. 
"I’m just pushing your buttons! I assure you that even without my glasses. I can confirm that you are quite an attractive young man, and that’s saying something considering I’ve been travelling here and there for most of my life. I'm not as blind as a bat, you know." you giggled, clicking your tongue before adding on. "Besides, it won't make much of a difference, really. Even with or without glasses, I still see a very pretty boy," you joked, laughing lightly.
“Out of all the compliments you could’ve chosen, you decided upon the word ‘pretty’? Sounds quite feminine, don’t you think?” he asked, leaning his head to the side, looking at you with half lidded eyes. He realised that he didn’t mind being called pretty, he didn’t mind being complimented by you. Despite the fact that you two had just met. But he couldn’t help but wonder why you had decided to choose ‘pretty’ instead of the other synonyms of ‘attractive’. 
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I think pretty can be used for anything. It’s just a word after all, why do things have to be differentiated by the littlest of things? It’s just a synonym of ‘beautiful’,” you shrugged, watching as small raindrops started to pour down from the cloudy grey sky, reaching your hand out to feel the water drops hitting and wetting your skin slowly. Renjun raised his brow at you, perplexed at how you could be so nonchalant about your terrible eyesight considering his caretaker would endlessly bicker until he was forced to use spectacles until his eyes magically got better.
"What's that odd pitter patter?" you mumbled, snapping Renjun out of his thoughts once again. His eyes widened when he realised that the sound of his clock heart ticking had increased, blending well with the sound of the rain as water began to hit the surface of the concrete. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone other than close relatives about his fragile condition, so his anxiety spiked when you turned to look at him, expecting an answer. "It's the rain." Renjun replied after a moment, gulping down his nerves before turning to you. 
"Do you like the rain?" Renjun asked, gulping afterwards when he realised how your eyes softly bore into his with an unreadable expression, the eye contact making Renjun’s clock heart steam up a bit as the gears worked even faster than before. Sighing as you felt the cold breeze that comes with the rain send goosebumps across your skin, you rubbed your arms before looking back to the pouring rain. You shook your head, "getting wet? Not really."
"But the sound it makes? Yes. It always reminded me of how I used to play in the rain back when I was still in elementary school," you nodded with a soft smile. 
The sound of the church bell pierced your ears, making Renjun’s eyes go wide when he realised that the clock had struck 6 pm. Quickly, he got up to his feet, his brushes almost slipping out of his fingers as he stumbled to get onto his feet. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking up at him in confusion, furrowing your brows at the boy as he gulped nervously. “I’m fine, I shouldn’t be out this late,” Renjun shook his head, biting his lip nervously when he realized that the rain wasn’t going to halt anytime soon.
“I don’t think the rain is stopping anytime soon, I suggest you wait here momentarily if you don’t want to catch a cold,” you commented, standing up as well as you stretched your hand out once again to feel the raindrops hitting your palm, smiling softly at the nostalgic feeling that came with it. He clicked his tongue, cursing at himself for letting his curiosity get the best of him as he contemplated on running all the way back home soaking wet. He wouldn’t want to lose his new found freedom.
Muttering a small curse under his breath, he stuck his book under his canvas before hovering it over his head. “Are you going to run? It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” you exclaimed, eyes growing wide when you turned your head to see him taking a deep breath. “Pardon me, unlike you, I have curfews. My caretaker would have my head if I don’t go back home soon,” Renjun deadpanned, rolling his sleeves out as he felt shivers down his spine when the cold wind blew against his skin. 
Right before Renjun was about to take a step into the pouring rain, you grabbed on the sleeve of his shirt, holding him back. “Wait, when can we see each other again?” you asked, eyes boring holes into the back of his head. He paused, his cuckoo clock heart ticking loudly against his chest at the small action. He slowly turned back to you, furrowing his brows as he felt the small machine heat up against his skin, causing him to wince slightly. Noticing his small reaction, you quickly dropped your hand, apologizing abruptly before clasping your hands before your hand. 
“It’s just- I haven’t been in this town for very long and I really need a friend beside me. I’m not quite fond of being alone. I know we just met, but I hope that we could be acquaintances at least?” you grinned up, your bright smile sending ominous effects to his heart as he took a moment to process your words. Renjun started at your bright expression, small steam coming out continuously from his mechanical heart as the seconds went by. His eyes dart from the rain before back to your figure standing right in front of him, waiting for his answer. 
‘Acquaintances?’ 
Renjun has never had friends before. His caretaker would introduce him to her client’s children from time to time but (luckily for Madame Wendy) he had never shown an interest in making colleagues.  But for some reason, something inside him was pulling him to say yes to you. Something inside of him wanted him to try and get to know you even more. It felt wrong. It felt very wrong. But yet again, it felt so right. 
Biting his lip, he gave you a soft smile. 
“I have faith that we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”
-
“I just think it’s quite preposterous!” you exclaimed as you laid down against the smooth surface of the fountain basin. Renjun chuckled, pressing his paintbrush gently against his wooden palette to get bits of his white paint to add more details to his painting. 
It's been a couple months since the day you met, and since then, you two have been growing closer by the day. Your friendship blossomed as the weeks went by. Madam Wendy wasn’t very fond when Renjun came home soaking wet after curfew, but she excused his actions when he told her that he just lost track of time at the library once again. A rare occurrence but it still happens from time to time, and considering Renjun barely lies to his caretaker, she believed him when he told her so.
Every once a week, the two of you would meet up on the same exact spot as the day you first laid eyes on each other. Renjun assumed that your house was closer considering you were always there first, twisting the crank of your barrel organ, kicking your feet as you sat on the fountain base to wait for him to arrive in your usual dark magenta dress (which he assumed to be the uniform of the school you were attending). The two of you would always walk around town, searching for spots to relax yourselves and talk about random things as you watch Renjun paint whatever that catches his eye. Overall enjoying each other’s company as if the two of you were in your own personal little bubble. 
“What’s so preposterous about the infamous Romeo and Juliet, exactly?” Renjun asked, chuckling as he dabbed the brush on the canvas, blending the colours of the sky on his artwork. You clasped your hands together, huffing as you scoffed at him. “Ever since my school made us all read Romeo and Juliet for the next literature exam, I just realise how horrible this trope is,” you tossed your book to the floor with a click of your tongue, hopping off of the fountain to walk closer to Renjun. 
“Do explain why you think so,” Renjun giggled, watching you dip your finger against the white paint on his palette and kneeling down to smear it against the title on the front cover of your book with a frown on your face. “Why are the females always quote unquote ‘damsels in distress’? It’s very misogynistic if you ask me!” you tsked, grabbing your book and leaning forward to show Renjun the front cover of the book. “Mister Shakespeare was truly a legendary fellow to create a piece of writing this famous, but why use poor unsuspecting 14 year old Romeo and Juliet as the female protagonist?” you complained.
“Why couldn’t it be ‘Romeo romeo, let down your hair!’ instead of ‘romeo romeo, where art thou?” It seems a bit more fair to me,” you joked, causing Renjun to furrow his brows at you. “It might be quite improper for a boy to have tremendously long hair, y/n,” he had to lay the back of his hand against his chest in an attempt to calm down his mechanic heart, feeling it heat up against his skin as he noticed how close the proximity between you were. You scoffed at the boy before you, standing up straight and letting the book hand in between your fingers.
Putting your hands on your hips, you walked in front of him, covering his view of the town. “Well it doesn’t give Mister Shakespeare a reason to give the story an unhappy ending. The despair it brings when you found out they both died in the end? Absolutely preposterous, why would anyone like books with such unhappy endings?” you added on, poking your book with a scrunched up expression, bringing a smile upon Renjun’s lips as he found your figure poking the book in your hands as endearing as watching an small innocent child playing with their own food. 
He sucked in his lip, taking a moment to admire your beautiful form. The gears in his mechanical clock worked faster as his eyes wandered to your slightly pouting soft lips, wondering how soft it would feel against his own. He cleared his throat when he felt a sharp pain scorching through his chest when he realised he was starting to imagine things, patting his chest softly as he tried to bite back a smile. 
“Maybe you just haven’t read true masterpieces,” Renjun responded after a pregnant pause, opening his little bag and pulling out the novel he’s been obsessed with for the past few months, placing it in your palms. “Read this, you can thank me later,” Renjun smiled, patting the book in your hands with a light chuckle, looking up into your eyes for a brief moment before looking back at his canvas. For he feared that if he stared into them any longer, he would simply get lost in your eyes for ages, wincing silently when his chest started to ache. 
“‘The Great Expectations’? This sounds like those tedious books my parents keep on their shelf,” you raised your brow, sitting down on the fountain again as you began to observe the book in your palms, squinting your eyes at the summary written at the back cover of the book. “‘Break his heart, Estella! Break his heart!’ That sounds so cruel of her to break an innocent boy’s heart,” you frowned, looking up at your friend with the adorable frown Renjun came to endear. 
Renjun laughed, shrugging simply as he went back to painting. His fingers twitching against the brush as he coloured white clouds on his piece, feeling your eyes curiously on his content form. “You didn’t want the female protagonist to be the damsel in distress, did you? I just simply gave you what you asked for,” Renjun shrugged, feeling his heart do somersaults as you let out a loud huff of breath, scooching closer towards him so you can begin reading the book. “I suppose so,” you muttered under your breath. 
“Do you carry books like this around with you as you paint or are you a magician who can pull out rabbits out of that bag of yours as well?” you asked jokingly, pulling the cover open and flipping to the first page. “I-Wait hold on, a magician as well?” he furrowed his brows at you, turning his head towards you and leaning his head to the side in confusion. You shot your head up, giving him a bright expression as you nodded eagerly. 
“You might have half of the town convinced that you’re some cold hearted teenager living with the ‘witch’ or the makeshift doctor, as you would like to say, but you can’t fool me, mister! We may have known each other for less than a few months but I know for a fact that you are a magician!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him, wiggling your index finger around, your fingertip hovering right above his nose before poking it with a small ‘boop; coming from your mouth. 
He furrowed his brows, gently pushing your hand away from his face with a raised brow. “Do you mind explaining why you have come to that conclusion?” Renjun asked, an amused expression spreading across his features as he dropped his brush into the cup of water set right beside him before crossing his arms against his chest and leaning back slightly. You grinned, “you’re one of the few people I’ve ever known who can paint so majestically. Have you seen your own paintings, Mister Huang Renjun?” you exclaimed, giving him a wide smile as you threw your arms up in the air. 
He chuckled, adjusting the beret on top of his head. “You don’t know many people, y/n,” he commented with a small smirk on his lips. “Let me finish before I usurp you, Huang,” you frowned, furrowing your brows and squinting your eyes threateningly at him. “I doubt that you even know what usurped means,” Renjun chuckled, shaking his head profusely at you. “Don’t doubt my low vocabulary, Renjun,” you crossed your hands, letting his book lay on your lap as he let out a soft laugh. 
“Alright, what are you going to usurp me from exactly?” he asked smugly, raising a brow at you. “That’s not the point of this conversation, what I’m saying is that you and your aesthetically pleasing art skills are magical!” you shot back in a snappy tone, avoiding the fact that you used a word that you don’t entirely know the meaning of. (considering you only heard it from your mother when she was talking to someone on the phone every morning whenever your father was off at work)  
He swore he could feel the ticking of his tock stop for a few seconds at your words. “Pardon?” he spluttered, putting his hand on his chest once again as he felt the gears in his cuckoo clock turn rapidly against his chest. “The way you carefully apply to each and every detail on every crevice of your canvas is like magic, the way you know how much paint you should apply to get just the right colours and the way you focus on shading or blending the paints together to achieve the small shadows or to adjust the lighting of the painting is just-” 
You paused before letting out a loud groan, “superb! I can’t even find the words on how to explain your magical abilities, the simplest way I can put it in my own way is that you are equivalent to a magician!” you waved your hands around at the canvas in front of the two of you, your eyes going wide in awe as you stared at the half finished piece as if it was the first time you had seen a rare jewel in person. 
Renjun’s jaw dropped as he couldn’t find the words to express how flustered he felt. However, the way his cuckoo clock began to steam up was another completely different thing. He couldn’t help but look down shy at his own paint stained hands, wondering how you could find awe in something as messy as his artwork. “And it is an absolute crime knowing that you aren’t some kind of world wide painter, your paintings are absolutely beautiful!” you exclaimed, smiling up at him as Renjun stared wordlessly into your eyes. 
He couldn’t help but notice how close you have gotten when you began on your unceremonious ramble about his art skills, he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting up your eyes and down to your plump lips. Gulping silently, he scooched back a little bit, gripping the sleeves of his button up shirt tightly as he tried to take the ticking of his heart against his ears, a fuzzy feeling overcoming the slight jolting pain in his chest as he did so.
He watched your eyes go wide at his actions, realizing that you moved too far. “Oh crumbs!” you exclaimed, taking a large step back as you realised the close proximity between you attracted attention from the people around you, eyes watching you like a hawk. Some held disgust to see two teenagers of the opposite gender oh-so-close to each other as if they were going to share a sweet kiss. Some held awe in them, adoring the sight of the two flustered beings cozying up to each other like that. Some held shock as they had never seen the mysterious cold hearted boy who lived in the little house on the steeple that close to someone before.
“I’m so so sorry!” you rambled, feeling your chest swell up as you grew flustered by your own actions. “I didn’t mean to get over excited! It’s just that I was so happy to talk about your art knowing how you don’t think much of it but I just really adore your art and the way you paint- oh god that sounds very inappropriate of me to say. What I meant was-” your short nervous ramblings were cut off when you heard Renjun’s laughter filling your ears, the angelic sound sending warm feelings into your heart. 
“Pardon me for laughing, but that really caught me off guard,” he threw his head back laughing, his cheeks flushing red from laughing too much as he held his stomach, wiping his tears afterward. Your jaw dropped at his amused laughter, embarrassment overcoming your nerves as you huffed angrily at him. “You absolute jerk, I thought I did something wrong and invaded your personal space or made you uncomfortable!” you exclaimed, putting your hands on your hips angrily, only eliciting even more laughter from the sweet boy. 
“It’s really endearing that you find my art that interesting, you really did catch me off guard with your little outburst,” he chuckled, lifting his beret off of his head before running his free hand over his hair, putting the beret back on his head afterwards. You couldn’t deny how pretty he looked with that beret, but of course, you weren’t going to admit it (again) for the sake of your own pride. “I was just expressing my opinions like a normal person, you didn’t have to laugh at me like that, you know,” you crossed your arms against your chest. 
“I wasn’t laughing at your outburst, I can promise you that!” he exclaimed, shaking his head at you, ignoring the searing pain in his chest as he stared lovingly at you. You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t help but notice the slightly sad glint on his pupils, but you chose not to ask about it, focusing on the topic at hand. “Then what were you laughing at exactly, Huang Renjun?” you asked, furrowing your brows at the brown haired boy, who smiled sweetly at you. Leaning his chin against his palm, elbow supported on his thigh. 
“I couldn’t help but laugh at how sweet you looked while talking about the things I do in front of you as if I were moving the sun and moon with my own bare hands.”
-
“You know you have a lovely smile.”
Renjun looked up from his book in alarm, eyes wide at your sudden bluntness. “Excuse me?” he coughed, releasing one hand from the book cover to lay it against the rough surface of his clock heart hidden underneath his coat. “I really like your smile,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, putting the Great Expectations book on the desk you were sitting before laying your hands over the other, placing your chin on top of them before gazing up at him with an innocent shrug. “You’re being quite expressive today,” Renjun chuckled, looking at you with a perplexed expression, his brows furrowed as he kept his hand against his heart, suppressing the little bird inside from letting out a loud ‘cuckoo!’. 
“I don’t like to lie, you know that, Renjun,” you pouted, raising your head up to give him a knowing look. Sitting up straight, Renjun shot you a boyish smile, looking back down at his book. “Why, thank you. That’s quite flattering,” Renjun chuckled, burying his nose in his book in a futile attempt to hide how flustered he felt. Putting the back of his hand against his mouth, he coughed to clear his throat before removing his hand and putting it on his nape to scratch on it nervously. “How are you liking the book so far?”
Renjun cringed at the slight waver in his tone, biting back his tongue as he heard you let out a small hum. “So far, it’s pretty engrossing. It perfectly depicts the image of a young male protagonist losing his child-like innocence through heartbreak and hardship,” you clicked your tongue, folding the corner of the page you were reading before flipping through the other pages to see how many you have left to read. “A compelling coming of age story,” you nodded with a slight shrug. 
“Though, I still don’t understand why you recommended me this book,” you closed the book and placed it back down on the desk, furrowing your brows in curiosity. Renjun gave you a sheepish grin, shrugging as he went back to his own book before replying with a, “you’ll find out once you finish the book,” under his breath. You huffed in response, leaning your forehead against the hardcover of the book, letting out a dramatic sigh. He let out a silent smile, adjusting his glasses as he continued to read the last paragraph of his own book. 
Your eyes glared holes into his head as if he was going to tell you if you glared at him long enough, but you realised that he was back into his own little world now that he was fully immersed into the plot. Your eyes wandered back to the canvas on top of the desk right beside him, his set of acrylic paints and brushes gathered up into a small pile. He had just finished his latest painting of the statue of the founder of this boring town, his artwork never failed to awe you. 
“When I finally manage to finish the book, will you give me one of your artworks free of charge?” you piped up, outstretching your hand as you poked the canvas, trying to pull the large object towards you with a single fingertip in futility. Ever since you started spending your time watching Renjun paint while he listened to you rambling, you had often asked him to draw something for you for free. In which he would always reply with a brief ‘buy your own, acrylics are immensely expensive.’ before rolling his eyes and going back to painting. 
He wasn’t completely wrong. Madam Wendy always grumbled on how paint prices are constantly increasing as time goes on. And whenever Renjun would make a quick trip to the art store just to buy another bottle of white paint, he would always suppress the urge to sigh heavily in front of the kind store owner who would grin innocently (despite the fact that they know full well that they were being absolute gooses for increasing the price as Renjun was going to buy their products nonetheless.)
However it came as a shock to the both of you when he muttered a small ‘fine’ under his breath. Eyes blowing wide as Renjun slowly looked up from his book and eerily turned to you, right before he could open his mouth to retract his words, you shot up to your feet. Catching the boy off guard as you leaned over to cover his mouth with your hands. “No! You are not taking that statement back!” you exclaimed, shaking your head aggressively as you gave him a wide mischievous smile. 
Renjun furrowed his brows, eyes glaring daggers at you to let him go despite the fact that his gears were turning at a rapid speed at the feeling of your skin against his lips. “I’m not letting go unless you say yes,” you mused in a melodious tone, earning a shake of his head in response as he continued to send you his typical cold stare.
Renjun always had a really mean resting face, his eyes always managed to send cold shivers down everyones’ spines. However, there was something comforting in the way he looked at you. A familiar warm feeling blooming in your chest whenever he turned his head to look at you, even though his eyes barely held any emotion, even though his small chuckles and laughs held no genuine happiness in them, you couldn’t help but let a fuzzy feeling grow inside of your stomach. It was exhilarating.
“Come on, you probably have billions of canvases somewhere in town. Giving one away to your dearest friend shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” you whined, still refusing to remove your hand from his lips. He was internally enjoying the close proximity between you, but as the seconds went on, he knew his clock heart was going to burst out of his chest if he didn’t do something. With a small curse in his mind, he pulled your hand away from his mouth. “I would if you paid me. But considering you are currently penniless, I have to politely decline,” Renjun snickered, giving you a disgusted expression as he felt the heat around his mouth disappear into thin air. 
You frowned, pursing your lips as you sat back down on your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “How could you do this to your most beloved friend?” you mumbled under your breath, loud enough for him to hear as you kicked one of the legs of the table in front of you childishly. Renjun chuckled, “‘Beloved’ isn’t even a word I would use to describe your existence.” Now it was your turn to glare daggers into his skull. “You’re incredibly mean, it’s almost bonkers,” you scoffed. 
“I know,” he shrugged casually, pulling his chair back to stand up. “Now if you excuse me, I would like to wash up to remove whatever bacteria you have oh-so-unceremoniously blessed upon my skin,” he bowed, pushing the chair back in the table as he tugged on the cuffs of his coat, giving you a small grin. “My hands are squeaky clean, excuse me!” you retorted, putting a hand on your chest in faux offense. “Keep telling yourself that, Y/n,” he nodded, abruptly walking towards the washroom at the back of the library with a hand on his chest as the effects of his emotions finally took place inside his mechanical ticking heart. 
As soon as Renjun turned to a corner, out of your line of vision, his whole body started twitching in pain. With a shaky hand he pulled back his coat to reveal the state of his clock. The hands of his clock were turning at a rapid speed, the small bird popping out of the clock and letting out a small ‘cuckoo!’. It was steaming up. Smoke was coming out of the contraption as if it was caught on fire. He felt like his chest was on fire. Renjun leaned his back against the wall, shakily blowing the smoke away and fanning it away softly with his hand. 
What’s happening to him? 
This has never happened before. What was happening to him? Why was he in so much pain? Why couldn’t he call out for help? Why couldn’t he make any sound?
Renjun wanted to cry out in pain, his body twitched as the tiny mechanical bird popped out of his clock with a loud ‘cuckoo!’. He gasped, patting his hands around his pockets for the key to his mechanical heart. He could hear the alarming ticking sounds of his clock with every second that went by, warning him something’s going to happen if nothing is done to stop this pain as he twitched in pain once again, clutching the clock with one hand, he felt something inside the pocket of his shirt. With a small grunt of pain, he fished out the small golden key inside. 
He pulled his hand away from his clock, gasping for breath as the pain in his chest increased with every tick of his heart. He plunged the key into the small hole connecting the arrows of the clock, quickly turning it counter clockwise as the pain started to lessen. Once the pain subsided, he dropped his hand to his sides, panting in exhaustion as his eyes blew wide with fear, his gears were working at their usual pace once again. His chest felt numb, a small throbbing pain lingering somewhere inside of him. 
‘What the hell was that?’ 
His eyes were glossy as he felt his emotions overwhelm his mind. His heart felt like it was going through a spin, as if the big hand of his core was going to pop out of his skin. His bones felt weak, as if it was about to implode at any second. The cogs and springs in his clock felt like they were about to explode. 
The loud alarming ticking in his ears made him wonder if he didn’t pull out the key in time, would his cuckoo clock heart halt for good?
-
“I’ll be off now, Wendy,” Renjun announced as he hopped down the stairs eagerly, gripping his fresh, new, empty canvas to his sides with one hand and spinning one of his brushes in between the fingers of the other. “Oh, you seem in a bit of a hurry, Renjun,” a familiar voice cooed teasingly, her words followed by another giggle. Renjun paused in his step, mustering up the energy to form a small smile as he looked up at the two women giggling at him. “Good morning, Joy. Good morning, Yeri,” he greeted with a polite bow. 
Joy and Yeri weren’t related in any way to Madam Wendy, but they are regular patients who would drop by weekly. And as far as he knew, they were one of the very few people who knew about his fragile condition (which is probably why they visit so often). “You look brighter than usual, what’s gotten you in such a rush, young lad?” Yeri grinned, sipping on her tea as she crossed her leg over the other with raised eyebrows. 
“It’s just a small trip to town, I need to buy more acrylics as well,” Renjun lied through his teeth, feeling the gears in his heart work faster at the thought of meeting you at your usual spot. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, Renjun,” Wendy spoke up, attracting the attention of the three in the room with pancakes stacked on three individual plates. “Do sit down! It’s been quite a while since you had a chit chat with your lovely aunts!” Joy giggled, patting the extra seat beside her before looking at her friend, who nodded in agreement. 
“I really shouldn’t interrupt-” 
“Renjun, go sit down,” Madam Wendy coaxed, placing a hand on his shoulder and nodding towards the empty spot on the sofa. Renjun looked back at his caretaker before sighing heavily, placing his canvas and brushes on the table near the entrance door and walking to sit on the empty spot the women had saved for him. “I’ll be upstairs cleaning up, if you need me,” his caretaker informed before exiting the living room, leaving her adopted son with the other two women in the room. 
“Okay, she’s gone!” Yeri exclaimed in a rather quiet tone before grabbing her fork and looking back at the teenager sitting beside them. “So how are you, honey? I just realised we didn’t even get to greet you last week considering you’ve been so busy lately,” Yeri hummed, shoving a spoonful of pancakes into her mouth as she spared a glance at Renjun. “Indeed! I assume you found something interesting in your great adventure in the outside world,” Joy giggled with an enthusiastic nod, causing Renjun’s eyes to widen. 
Renjun let out a small chuckle. “You two make it sound as if I was a protagonist of some weird story,” he mused, digging into his own stack of pancakes as he felt a warm feeling in his stomach at the memory of the day you first met. “Don’t beat around the bush and tell us!” Joy rolled her eyes at the younger boy, grabbing her cup of tea and pulling it to her lips. “How was this great adventure you’ve discovered?” she asked, her eyes flickering from her tea to Renjun briefly. 
Renjun bit his lip, scanning the room to ensure that Madam Wendy was nowhere in sight. He knew he could trust these two, considering the countless times he’s gotten away with his lies and rants. He bit his lip, glancing down at his hands nervously before giving his aunts a genuine smile. “It was fabulous,” he sighed dreamily, a sheepishly wide smile stretching across his lips as he took another bashful bite of his pancakes. “Tell all! Tell all! Don’t miss any details!” Yeri squealed. 
“What made it all so fabulous?” Joy whispered, her eyes peering curiously at the boy who appeared to be in a dreamy state. “A little singer with glasses which she won’t wear,” he replied almost instantly without any hesitation, a little bit too fast for his liking. “She isn’t all that, is she?” Yeri gasped, leaning back slightly in shock to hear her little Renjun was talking about someone and not something. 
He shot up, straightening his back as he dropped his fork on his plate with a shake of his head. “She is! She really is!” Renjun nodded eagerly, his hands coming up to make grand gestures as he continued on with his words. “She reminds me of a… sparrow! Perched up on the toppest tree branch in it’s tiny little feet, it gives her this calming fragile aura like a twig falling off of a branch. Her voice- her singing is like listening to a nightingale singing a bird song but with words! Or those soothing musical numbers they would always play in the telly after a good show has ended,” Renjun described, his eyes filled with stars and his heart filled with passion. 
The two shared knowing looks, bewildered at how dazed the boy in front of them truly was at that moment. “And her smile it’s like a work of art! Far greater than all of my masterpieces combined, far greater than the artwork displayed on museums! Her laughter makes her seem so miniscule, I could hardly believe that such a light heartening sound could be elicited from a human being!” Renjun went on, his smile wide as he leaned back at the thought of your smile which made his stomach do somersaults. 
“Oh Renjun, I bet that once she catches the flu, you’ll change your mind. Whenever women like those who catch the flu, they cough up a storm and sneeze like a steam truck,” Yeri joked, earning a brief frown from Renjun who scoffed in response. “Oh nonsense! I bet if she does, it would sound like a majestic flute found in the mountains!” Renjun waved his hand off with a roll of his eyes in disbelief.
The two women laughed in response, shaking a knowing look. “So basically, to sum everything up. You went to town and instead of catching the flu, you caught a bug in town, you young lad!” Yeri raised her eyebrow suggestively at the boy, indicating that he’s very much caught the love-bug she’s always ranted about on a daily basis. “Oh deary!” Joy gasped before letting out another fit of giggles, cupping her mouth to ensure that her giggles weren’t loud enough for Madam Wendy to hear. 
“You know it’s forbidden,” Yeri lectured, her tone turning serious when she realised that Renjun was actually serious about this. “For-bid-den!” Joy emphasized with every wave of her finger with a disappointing shake of her head. “I know,” Renjun sighed, a frown forming at his lips as he sunk back against the seat he was sitting on, leaning his head back sadly. “It’s for your own good, you know,” Joy smiled sadly, sympathy lacing her tone as she patted the boy’s head comfortingly. 
“Indeed. Oh deary, I wish I could live without love,” Yeri sighed, pulling out a mirror from her purse to reapply her lipstick. “Oh no, here we go again,” Renjun chuckled, sitting up straight once again as he prepared himself for another sad tragic love story his aunt has to offer. “Every day, every time I fall in love with a patient here or a man, they would always fall for some other girl!” Yeri ranted with a heavy sigh, smacking her lips together to get an even coating on her lips. “I am not letting Renjun listen to another one of your sob stories!” Joy huffed, leaning over to cup Renjun’s ears with her palms. 
“You might taint the poor boy with your bad luck with love!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t my condition a symbol of this bad luck?” Renjun chuckled, gently tugging on the older woman's wrists to remove her palms away from his ear. “Oh hush you, I’m sure you’ll get over this little infatuation you have with this little singer,” Yeri waved her hand off nonchalantly, huffing slightly. “It’s not like you see her every day of the week, you’ll get over it in no time!” she added with an encouraging hum, watching as Joy nodded with her in agreement. 
Renjun bit his lip, biting back his tongue as he continued to shove pancakes into his mouth as quickly as possible. At that moment, Madam Wendy finally came down with a key in her hand. “Renjun, I’ve always told you to bring your key wherever you go. Why won’t you ever take my words to heart?” Wendy sighed, handing the key to his mechanic heart to the young boy, who gulped slightly and mumbled a small apology under his breath before tucking his key in his front pocket. 
He couldn’t help but shiver as the memory of him having a near death experience flashed through his mind, the image of the key plunging into his heart and winding it up to lessen the pain he endured had traumatized him. He was terrified of it happening again. He was terrified of what’s becoming of him. Was this the effects of falling in love? Was he falling in love with you? He hasn’t even known you for very long, he couldn’t possibly fall for you in such a short time.
Besides, why does falling in love feel so good but hurt so bad?
-
“So how was the book I lent you?” Renjun asked in an attempt to spark up a conversation. “Quite interesting, though, I’m not quite sure that I’ll finish it any time soon. I like to focus deep into the depths of the story, fully imagine the characters emotions and thoughts,” you exclaimed, pushing your organ barrel beside the tree Renjun was leaning against, sitting down beside him under the shade and crossing your legs, tugging the edges of your dress over your knees. You dusted the bits of dirt off of the fabric on your dress. 
“I understand, it’s the thought process, right?” Renjun nodded, flipping a page of his book as he hummed. “Indeed! Though, I can’t quite get the gist of why Ms Havisham is so devoted to making Estella break Pip’s heart. She should’ve just left the poor girl alone, besides, I really don’t want to see the poor boy heartbroken,” you frowned, clicking your tongue in thought. “I despise Pip’s sister, as well,” you added with an innocent smile. 
Renjun let out an amused chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a rather insufferable character, isn’t she?” he nodded in agreement, remembering how heartless Pip’s older sister was when it came to Pip and her own husband before she passed away in the book. “She’s exactly what my mother would consider as a bitch,” you added on, pulling your glasses out from your purse with a small giggle, earning a loud gasp from the boy beside you.  “Y/n, language!” he gasped, pulling his book back to gaze at you with wide eyes. 
You giggled, mumbling a small apology before fidgeting with the frames of your glasses mindlessly. Renjun watched you play with your glasses from the corner of his eye, internally wondering why you have never worn them despite carrying them around in your purse everywhere you go. Furrowing his brows, he turned his head back to his book, biting back his tongue before shaking his head at himself.
“You know, you really shouldn’t play games with your sight if it leaves you in the dark, y/n,” Renjun deadpan, not sparing you a glance as he licked the tip of his thumb to flip a page from his new book. You huffed at your friend, fidgeting with your new spectacles in between your fingers as you rolled your eyes at the boy beside you. “How poetic,” you scoffed, earning a soft chuckle from Renjun. “I think I prefer life all a blur, thank you very much,” you added on with a snappy tone. 
“What does that even mean?” Renjun laughed lightly, putting his book down on his lap to turn to you with a soft expression on his face. “I keep forgetting to wear my glasses and now my eyes are blurry, I can’t even see the outline of my hand,” you stated, raising your free hand up above to the sky and squinted your eyes at it in an attempt to get a clearer vision of your hand that was merely a few inches away from you. “Your glasses are literally in your palms,” Renjun pointed out, nodding his head at the hand holding the glasses in question. 
You opened your mouth to speak, slowly putting your glasses in your little handbag behind you before clearing your throat. “As I said before, I forgot to wear my glasses,” you repeated, giving him a cheshire grin in response. “Jesus Christ, why do I even bother?” Renjun muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, “won’t your vision get worse the lesser you wear them?” he asked once again, rubbing his temples in distress. 
Humming in confirmation, you shrugged innocently before leaning back against the tree the two of you were sitting against. “Though, I believe it won’t get worse as long as I close my eyes. My vision won’t get worse if I don’t see, right? Besides, it feels good to close my eyes,” just as you finished your words, you clasped your hands on your lap, leaning your head back against the tree bark and closing your eyes before letting out a sigh of content. Renjun let out an annoyed puff of breath, “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 
Your content expression was enough to send fiery sparks into his mechanical heart, he could almost feel it steaming up again. He couldn’t help but notice how close you were next to him, as if he were to make one little scooch, your shoulders would be touching. His eyes wandered to your beautiful figure laying right beside him, internally suppressing the urge to clasp you close to his body in a tight embrace. Your soft lips causing his stomach to do somersaults the longer his gaze lingers there. He imagines that he would scatter confettis on the both of you if he were to press his own lips against yours in a kiss. 
His mind couldn’t help but wander back to those times where you had to walk up close to the signs to see what street the two of you were heading, the amount of times you had to squint and lean over the table to read whatever paragraph he was trying to show you during your reading sessions at the library. He felt this sudden urge to protect you, to constantly remind you to wear your glasses in case your vision worsened. 
There was something inside of him screaming at him to not let you stray away from the happy path you were currently in. Something inside of him made him determined to be your only guide, to be your pair of eyes. In return, he knew you would ignite the flame in his heart. No, you would be the special flame that burns his heart. You’d be a conflagration in the night. A pretty arsonist. A fire blazing so bright you’ll see the light of the heavens itself. 
“Oh why bother. You know very well, out of my five senses, my hearings best. I’m pretty sure I’ll recognize you without relying on my eyes,” you waved your hand off carelessly, keeping your eyes closed, oblivious to the way Renjun was looking at you so lovingly. “Well I assure you, I don’t think you can rely on your hearing to walk down the streets without my assistance,” Renjun chuckled, recalling the time when you almost walked into the wrong side of town due to your poor eyesight. 
“You don’t know that! My eyes always lead me astray, anyways. Far away down the street, sometimes I can’t bear to steal a glance at the sun or even look the sky straight in the eye for fear that my eyes would deceive me as well,” you confessed dramatically, finally opening your eyes and turning your head to look at Renjun in the eye. Your eyes widened at the way Renjun’s eyes softened at the sight of your own pupils staring back at his in confusion. You straighten up your position, putting your hands behind you and leaning on them. 
“Then let me be your eyes,” Renjun replied in an almost hushed tone. “I won’t let you stray, I promise,” he gave you a sweet boyish smile, making your heart flutter in your chest at his words. “Aren’t you being a little flirtatious? That’s quite unexpected of you, Huang Renjun,” you said with a raise of your brows as the corner of your lips quirked up into a smile that mirrored his own. You turned your head, feeling your faces grow closer and closer with every second. 
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” he hummed, turning his body so his shoulder was leaning against the tree bark, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips as he leaned closer to you. You chuckled, shaking your head softly. “I don’t know, what do you think? Maybe it could be a good thing?” you shrugged, closing your eyes and leaning your face closer to his. Renjun followed your actions, feeling the gears in his mechanical heart work at a fast pace. He winced in pain as his body jolted and twitched in pain, the mechanical bird inside of the clock rapidly hitting the door of his clock.
He felt your breath hitting against his face, your lips merely an inch away from his as his body twitched in pain once again. Letting out a grunt of pain, he felt one of the gears of his clock pop out of his chest. Putting his hands on his chest, he grunted once again as his body twitched uncontrollably in pain. There was the sound of fabric being ripped before his vision darkened and he fell back against the concrete floor, falling unconscious within a few seconds.
“Renjun!” a voice yelled out in alarm, causing your eyes to jolt open in shock. 
“Oh god, not this. Please, anything but this,” an unfamiliar voice gasped in a panic. Your vision was blurry, you couldn’t see much happening in front of you. You quickly fished out your spectacles from your purse, putting them on immediately before your eyes widened in fear and shock, your body froze on the spot. You could almost feel your heart stop beating against your chest for a moment. 
Right in front of you was an unconscious Huang Renjun in the arms of an older lady on the floor. He was leaning against her lap, arms wrapped around him tightly in a motherly way. His eyes closed in content, it almost appeared as if he was just sleeping peacefully. There was steam coming out of his chest, you couldn’t see where it was coming from considering the old lady had blocked your view of him almost completely as she pleaded for him to wake up worriedly. 
The lady in question snapped her head at you, glaring daggers at you as if you had committed some sort of arson. “What have you done to him?” she asked, her tone filled with malice and hatred. As if you were the cause of Renjun’s current state. Your eyes widened at her sharp tone, fear and anxiety creeping up in your veins as you couldn’t find the courage to even open your mouth, let alone utter a single word. You shakily got up to your feet, grabbing the strap of your purse before running off away from the two.
-
Slap!
The loud sound of Madam Wendy’s palm making contact with Renjun’s cheek pierced the room, causing his head to turn sideways at the harsh impact, wincing slightly as he laid against the chair, which was commonly used for Wendy’s patients, shirtless. His body jolted at the sudden contact, his heart making a loud ‘cuckoo’ sound at the shock it caused. “What were you thinking? You could’ve died!” Madam Wendy scolded, her fists balled up in her sides as she walked over to her table tray filled with tools. 
Renjun couldn’t speak as he looked down in his palms, his mind blank and face void of emotion. He felt numb at that exact moment, he didn’t know if it was the aftermath of the sheering pain he just endured in front of you or it was because of the feeling of his heart being fixed by his own caretaker. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Huang Renjun. Whatever bloody happened to rule number 3? Did you forget?” Madam Wendy exclaimed in an alarming tone, her voice strict and angry. “No,” Renjun replied before breaking into a small fit of coughs, wincing as his chest burned with every breath he took. 
“Do you have a pain in your heart when you cough?” Madam Wendy asked, her tone filled with worry, eyes filled with disappointment as she searched for a pair of pliers. Renjun nodded slowly in response, gripping the armrests of the chair as he leaned his head back against the pillow set behind his head. “Well multiply that pain and your suffering to a hundred fold and you still won’t understand the pain love causes,” she snapped, using some pliers to pull a piece of fabric from the arrows of his heart, placing the fabric on the small tray beside him before walking off to grab some more tools. 
“And the greater the love, the greater the pain,” she sighed, opening the drawers from across the room. Renjun’s eyes flickered to the woman frantically trying to fix his heart before his eyes moved down to the white fabric on the tray. He reached his arm out to grab it, quickly snucking it in his pockets before looking back at the window. During your near-kiss under the tree, the arrows of his clock must’ve pulled against the fabric of your dress. Your dress wasn’t made out of the most durable fabric, the pull must’ve ripped the top sleeve of your dress when he passed out. 
“First, your sense of ache, followed by pangs of rage and jealousy then incomprehension,” she started to explain, sipping on her coffee as Wendy’s heart ached at the thought of her own child going through that much pain if this goes on.  “Rejection, the agony of heartbreak,” she turned to point her tweezers that was holding a gear in between it with a strict motherly expression. One that Renjun couldn’t bear looking into for too long.
“Your mechanical heart won’t be able to withstand it, you know this! I told you countless times, this is why I’m always so worried whenever I let you go into town,” she barked, walking back to the tools to drop the rusted gear along with the other broken metals she pulled out and replaced from his heart. “It will overheat and explode, I transplanted it with my own two hands, therefore I know it’s limits,” she went on, her tone falling deaf onto Renjun’s ears as his mind wandered back to your figure. 
“A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!”
With eyes closed in thought, he wondered what happened after he fell unconscious, how did Madam Wendy find him in such a short amount of time? What happened to you? Did he scare you when he fell unconscious? He was worried you’ll  be afraid to talk to him now. Did Wendy say anything mean to you while he was out cold on the concrete floor?
Oh god, your presence isn’t even here and your existence is entering his heart and filling it with flames as if you were a little fairy wandering around looking for a new home to live in. A home which is his heart. He couldn’t help but let out a small smile at the vivid memory of sitting so close to you under the shade, how his skin burns at the feeling of touching yours, how your smile and laughter gave colour to his emotionless dark world. Oh how the thought of you made Renjun feel as if he was floating. It was as if you were carrying him up into the sky, he felt like flying by your side. 
“Do you know why I saved your life?” a voice snapped him out of his daydreaming.
His eyes opened, head turning to his caretaker who took a seat next to him, gripping her gloves in her hands. “You were the son I never had,” she confessed, giving him a small comforting smile. “Why couldn’t you have one?” Renjun asked rather hesitantly, his voice almost hushed as if he was whispering, despite the fact that it was only the two of them in the room. Madam Wendy shrugged, sighing heavily. 
“It was no one’s fault. It’s one of those tricks love and nature plays on us, you know that more than anyone,” she chuckled, gesturing to the cuckoo clock heart on his naked chest. “Though, the day your mother gave you to me felt like it was heaven sent. Oh god, I would lose my mind and my reason for living if I lost you,” she reached over and ran her fingers through her child’s hair, making Renjun feel some sort of guilt deep down in his chest. 
“I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry I fell in love and I don’t know how to get out.
-
Madam Wendy finally allowed Renjun out of their home a month after the incident. For the whole thirty days he was prisoned in his home, all that wandered in his mind was you. He wanted to see you, he longed to hear your sardonic humor, he longed to hear your angelic laughter flowing through his ears like music. He longed to ask forgiveness of what had happened between the two of you under the tree.
He wondered if you harbored the same feelings for him as he does for you. He doubted you’d still feel the same after the incident, however, a part of him had hope that you would wait for him all this time. He tried to prove himself wrong as he ran around town to all of your favorite spots. The library, the fountain, the art store, the tree. Anywhere his mind took him, his feet didn’t stop moving. His feet couldn’t stop moving. 
He wanted to see you again. No, he needed to see you again. He needed to apologize to you to release the guilt in his heart. He didn’t care if his heart would explode right then and there, he needed to see you and he wanted to finally embrace you in his arms. He needed to know if you reciprocate his feelings, he needed to know if you longed for him as much as he longed for you this whole entire time. He never got your answer, either. He asked to be your eyes, he wanted to be your guide. He wanted to tell you to rely on him if you can’t rely on your eyes, he wanted to hold your hand to keep you from straying to the wrong path. He wanted to feel his lips brush against yours, he wanted to feel love. He wanted to feel loved by you.
His heart fell even more when he realised he couldn’t find you anywhere. No one knew where you went, no one has seen you since the day he fell unconscious. It was as if you had disappeared off of the surface of the earth. The only thing he had of you was the fabric he accidentally tore off of your dress. He realised you left your barrel organ ride beside the tree. It was already collecting dust as leaves fell in between the spaces of the organ. 
You were gone. 
The owner of the library informed him that you had fled abroad. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach at the thought of you running away. You didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even have the audacity to tell him you were leaving? Surely you would have informed him that you were leaving. Yet again, you did tell him on the first day you met that you weren’t supposed to stay here for too long. But was it too much of him to ask you to at least say goodbye?
-
Two years later, it was Renjun’s 18th birthday. Two years since he lost you, two years since he went back to the hollow shell he formerly was before he fell in love. He spent months wallowing in his own sorrow, he spent months wondering if you missed him the same way he missed you. He no longer looked forward to walking out of his home to paint, all he saw was grey. The places he spent with you made his vision dark and grey, it was as if the joy inside of him were stripped from his vision. 
He didn’t know what to do. His heart grew numb, he didn’t know how to make himself happy again. It was as if he had lost a part of himself. He had lost something precious. Which he did, he lost you. He didn’t know what to do. Yet, on a rare occasion, he would take small walks into town. 
Madam Wendy noticed how Renjun’s whole existence grew dull ever since that day, his eyes were always dark as if he hasn’t slept for centuries, a frown permanently placed on his lips, his movements weak as if he didn’t have the energy to move. At this point he admitted that he was barely living, he was just a human body existing with a cuckoo clock as a heart. His days were no longer as bright as they used to.
To Renjun, the days felt like it was repeating itself. He wasn’t allowed to go to school, for Madam Wendy feared that he would be made fun of and bullied by his peers. Everyday, he would wake up and wind up his heart, take a long shower, eat his breakfast, paint or read his books, occasionally talking to the patients who attempted to make small talk with him (however that wouldn’t last very long considering he had no interest whatsoever in interacting with strangers he barely knew), eat dinner, go to bed. Repeat. 
It was an exhausting cycle. His mind was growing dull. Whenever his mental health became worse, he would take a walk into town to clear his mind to try and lift his own spirits (despite the fact that he knew it’s futile. After all, he’s been trying this for the past two years.) Today was unfortunately one of those days. 
Renjun had decided to take a small visit to the library. He remembered how he had to apologize to the librarian for lending you the Great Expectations book when he remembered that you’ve never returned the book back to him. He still felt guilty despite the fact that the librarian didn’t mind it very much. The librarian lady took a liking to both you and Renjun, she thought the two of you would’ve ended up together if it weren’t for the fact that you had moved away without a goodbye.
But fortunately for Renjun, today was a different day. Today would be the day to end his miserable lifestyle. 
“Renjun! Renjun, my dear boy! How are you, honey?” the librarian greeted, putting a stack of books on the counter as Renjun entered the library with a bashful smile on his face. “Same as always, Mrs. Dust,” he bowed to greet the older lady politely, snucking his hands in his pockets after tugging on his coat. “Honey, I have lovely news for you! You remember your old friend, Miss Y/n, don’t you?” the lady giggled, walking over to the young adult with an eager smile on her face. 
Oh how Renjun’s heart perked up at the brief mention of your name. 
“Of course I do, Mrs. What about her?” he coughed, clearing his throat to prevent his voice from shaking. “I’ve received a letter from her! Oh hold on, dearie,” she giggled, squatting down to open the small drawer near her desk and pulling out a small postcard which had a familiar handwriting written on the back. “It must be your birthday soon. Happy birthday, my dear boy. The least I can do is give you this,” she smiled, handing Renjun the postcard with a hum. 
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Dust,” he smiled, gripping the postcard tightly in between his fingers as he looked down on it. It was indeed from you. You didn’t write much on the card, nothing more than a simple ‘happy birthday’ and a small ‘I missed you’. You had written your name at the edge of the card and a small ‘R’ beside the happy birthday, indicating that it was truly for him. Fireworks erupted in his stomach when he saw small hearts doodled all over the card with a red pen. 
You remembered him. 
You missed him. 
You thought of him.
Those words were enough to revive the spark in his heart. Those were enough to spread a bright genuine smile across his lips. His cheeks hurt from how wide his smile was, he felt like jumping for joy. He was so ecstatic he thought he could fly to the sky, he felt his fingers itching as his eyes wandered to the address you have written at the bottom of the postcard, giving him a hint of where you might be living. 
Andalusia. 
You were half across Europe. You were so far away, yet so close. He wanted to see you. He needed to see you. He couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, he needed to get a move on and he needed to find you. He thought sending you a postcard back wasn’t enough. He wanted to see the girl who managed to turn his heart without the key, he wanted to see the girl who produced a spark in his heart with only a few mere words.
He ran all the way back home, encountering Joy and Yeri on the way back and shooting them with an uncharacteristically bright smile stretched across his face. “Renjun, lad, what’s gotten you all jumpy?” Joy exclaimed, causing Renjun to stop in his tracks. “I got a letter from her!” he informed them, his voice high-pitched as if he just got told that he had personally won the sun, moon and stars all to himself. In his case, he actually did. He actually did.
“A letter?” Yeri squeaked up, a smile stretching across her face at the sight of the younger boy’s. “From who?” Joy asked, giggles bubbling up in between the two ladies as they watch Renjun suppress the urge to jump for joy. “Y/n! She remembers me! She sent me a postcard from Andalusia,” he exclaimed, waving the postcard in their faces. Joy’s eyes wandered down to Renjun’s chest, watching as the hands of his clock spun rapidly, indicating how excited the young adult was feeling. 
“Y/n? Was this the young girl you went on about a few years ago?” Yeri asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod from Renjun himself. “Renjun, that’s great news! What are you planning to do then? Write her another letter?” she asked once again, clasping her hands in front of her at the delightful news. The boy shook his head eagerly, his smile never faltering. 
“I’m going to find her, I’m going to find her and confess my love,” he breathed out, his own words taking his breath away. The thought of seeing you again was enough to send him flying into the heavens, oh for all things that’s holy, he didn’t know how he was going to proclaim his love for you in person when he could barely explain it in words himself.
“To Andalusia? Renjun, that’s halfway across Europe! Madam Wendy won’t be very happy about this,” Joy informed him, a sympathetic smile replacing her previously bright one. Renjun’s smile faltered at the mention of his caretaker, looking down at the postcard you had sent him, your messy handwriting beckoning him to come to you. He sucked his bottom lip, his heart racing at the thought of rebelling against Madam Wendy’s orders.
Yet again, if he did end up dying from this, all of Madam Wendy’s efforts throughout the past two decades would be in vain. She was practically his guardian after all, but yet again, he was a legal adult now isn’t he? He’s 18 years old, he didn’t have to live under her rules anymore if he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty for wanting to flee Edinburgh just to see you again, something inside of him was screaming at him to run.
Maybe this time, he would listen to it.
“Joy, Yeri, will you help me escape Edinburgh?”
-
“Renjun? What are you doing up so late?” 
Renjun froze, halting his movements as he dropped another sweater into his suitcase. He shut his eyes tightly as his heart raced against his chest, taking a deep breath to compose himself before standing up to face his caretaker as he zipped up his suitcase tight. “Wendy,” he cleared his throat, gripping tightly on the saddle of his suitcase with a small cough, slipping the key to his heart in his front pockets. “Renjun, why do you have a suitcase packed? It’s past curfew,” she narrowed her eyes at the boy.
“Wendy, I am now a legal adult. I have turned 18 years old,” Renjun started, suppressing the urge to gulp down his nerves but he kept his ground. “Yes, I know that, Renjun. That still doesn't answer my question as to why you’re up this late with a packed suitcase,” she nodded, tone laced with confusion as Renjun took a step back towards the opened window, looking out at the moonlight. “Y/n sent me a postcard… from Andalusia,” his voice grew quieter as the seconds went by.
“I’m planning to travel half across Europe to see her again.”
“No, I forbade it.” Wendy shook her head, taking a step forward towards her adopted child, her hands balled up into fists at how Renjun’s determined expression didn’t falter at the slightest bit at her strict tone. “I expected you to say that,” Renjun sighed, walking over to the open window and looking up at the moon shining down upon the dark sky. 
“Nature was cruel to pray this silly little trick on me. I spent two decades wondering ‘what is love’? I knew I didn’t need to love in life, you showed me that throughout my whole 18 years of living here. I didn’t need love to live,” Renjun started, clasping his hands together as he held the saddle of his suitcase harder.
“But I realise, I’ve always wanted to feel love. To feel love, to give love and be loved back. Y/n made me realise that when I started falling for her two years ago, and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have come to this realisation either,” he chuckled in disbelief, looking around at the decorations of his room, realising how much he’s going to miss living here. “I want to go out and explore the world, I know you have been dreading at the possibility of this day coming, but it has, Wendy.”
“Renjun, no. If you leave, this might as well be the last breath you’ll take! You have never travelled outside of town before, how are you going to survive travelling all across Europe for some measly girl? I won’t allow it, I can’t allow it,” Wendy shook her head, her eyes wide with panic as she watched Renjun walk backwards to the open window behind him. “I know you won’t allow it. But it’s time to let me go,” Renjun smiled sadly.
“Thank you for the 18 years you have spent trying to keep me alive. But the past two years felt meaningless to me without her presence, it felt aimless. I was honestly thinking about taking my own life at some point,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “But now, I realise I rather risk my life for love than spend the rest of my days here with an empty, cold feeling in my heart,” he shot his guardian a genuine smile, the first genuine smile she has ever witnessed from the young boy. 
“Goodbye Wendy.”
“Huang Renjun!” 
Renjun fell back from the open window, causing Madam Wendy to let out a cry of his name, quickly running over to the window to see if her child was okay. She gasped when she saw that Renjun had landed on a mattress Joy and Yeri had set before hand, a loud joyous laughter eliciting from the younger boy’s lips, a sound Wendy has never heard from the boy from his eighteen years of living. He got up from the mattress, grabbing his suitcase quickly before shooting a boyish smile to his aunts. 
“I’ll send you a postcard, Madam Wendy!” he exclaimed as he began running down the hill. 
“Renjun, no! Come back! Oh god, please no! Yeri, Joy, what are you doing?! Stop the young lad before he-”
“You can’t blame me for falling hard in love, mother!”
-
“Now my dear boy, what a lovely contraption of a heart you got there!” a man exclaimed, adjusting his monocle as he squinted his eyes at Renjun’s mechanical heart. “Oh, why, thank you,” he smiled politely, bowing at the older man as he gripped his canvas in hand. “Where are you off to? You seem quite young to be travelling all by yourself,” the man asked in an attempt to make small talk.
That night, Renjun had run off to catch the nearest train to Paris, he planned to take a trip from there to Andalusia. It was a 7 hour ride but he was willing to do anything at this point to get out of Edinburgh. When he finally arrived in Paris, he stumbled upon this man while waiting for his next train. “Oh pardon me, where are my manners! I’m Kim Doyoung,” he outstretched his hand for Renjun to shake with a toothy smile spread on his lips. 
“Huang Renjun,” he introduced with a sheepish smile. “Ah, So, Renjun, where are you going, my dear boy? You seem a little bit too young to travel,” Doyoung took off his monocle, wiping it against his tie before putting it back on. “I-I’m trying to get a replacement for my heart,” Renjun said, poking his little clock with the tip of his finger, grimacing at the small ticking sound it was making at the small touch. 
It wasn’t a complete lie. 
He had planned to get a replacement for his heart for so long, he figured that maybe if he changed into a new one, this wretched curse of forbidden love might be lifted. Maybe he didn’t have to part ways with Madam Wendy or Joy or Yeri. Maybe if he replaced his clock, he could live his life happily in love with you. Though, for now, it was just a small hope he held inside of him. All he could do now was find a clockmaker.
“I’m trying to find a clockmaker somewhere to replace my heart,” he spoke in a bold tone, looking down at his unfinished piece. He made it during his seven hour train ride while thinking of you just to pass the time, though, he was honestly considering giving it to you the moment you get to reunite with each other. “Do you happen to know one?” he asked, his eyes going wide with hopefulness.
Doyoung hummed in response, tugging on the tip of his tie. “Unfortunately, I’m not a clockmaker. But I do like tinkering in the mechanics direction! Maybe I could take a closer look at your heart to see if there’s anything I can do,” Doyoung suggested, pulling out a magnifying glass with a nod of his head. Renjun sucked his bottom lip nervously before taking out the key from his front pocket, plunging it into the mechanical heart and turning it to open the door of his heart. “Alright then.” “Oh! You say that this was grafted by the famous Madam Wendy from Edinburgh? She must be quite the genius to craft and piece this all for you with her bare hands to save your life,” he exclaimed, leaning closer to observe the small gears slowly turning with every small tick tocks his heart makes. “Though, I don’t know why you’d want to replace such a thing. Everything works just fine, clearly, she made this out of love. I could see it within every crevice of art she puts into this clock,” the older man clicked his heart, putting his magnifying glass back into his bag as Renjun closed his heart shut and pulled his key out of the clock.
“Love, huh? That’s the exact problem I have at the moment,” Renjun sighed heavily, tucking his key back into his front pocket before leaning back against his seat. “It’s very dangerous to me. At least that’s what Wendy said to me for the past eighteen years of my life,” he looked down at his shoes sadly, pressing his lips together in a tight line as he felt the guilt catching up to him at the thought of his caretaker’s efforts going in vain. 
“Tell me about it,” Doyoung grinned, putting his hand on his chin as a smug expression spread across his features. 
“You see, mister Kim-”
“Oh no! Call me Doyoung!” 
“Uhm- You see, mister Doyoung. There’s this singer I met in Edinburgh a long time ago and-” “Ah yes, I see. These things do happen quite often.” Renjun bit back his tongue when Doyoung interrupted him once again, but nonetheless he continued on with his story. “As time went on, we grew closer. And soon, I couldn’t help but feel as if my whole world was going through a life threatening earthquake. My head was spinning, I couldn’t breathe. The ticking tock of my clock sounded almost alarming as if it was going to stop at any given moment whenever I’m within her lovely presence,” he explained, making grand, dramatic gestures with his hands as he went on.
Doyoung chuckled, assuming that Renjun’s poetic explanations were purely symbolic. “And how did that feel, exactly, Renjun?” he asked, causing Renjun’s expression to soften. “Extraordinary,” he sighed, almost dreamily as he looked down at the postcard he was holding in his free hand that wasn’t holding his canvas. “There you go, my dear boy,” he chuckled in response, leaning back against the seat next to Renjun’s.
“I don’t know, Mister Doyoung. I fear Wendy might be right, though, what if love was just a trap and my ticking clock is just a bomb waiting to be triggered by it?” Renjun asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he kissed his teeth. “Renjun, if you fear of getting hurt, you will increase the chances of getting hurt,” Doyoung laid a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “You should enjoy the thrill, the danger! That pumps through your veins at the thought of falling completely in love,” he exclaimed. 
“If you live your life worrying everything, you’ll get bored before you even die! Don’t you want to experience a life changing experience with this little lady you’ve been saughting after?” he asked, her tone encouraging Renjun’s spirit to get back up again. A smile stretched across Renjun’s face at the thought, he had flashbacks to the two years he spent without you. He couldn’t afford going back to the same depressing situation he got himself out of, and he’s definitely not willing to go back now that he’s almost there.
“If I can find her again. The last time I heard from her, she was in Andalusia,” he shrugged with a small laugh.
“I’d say,” Doyoung laughed. “When you’re eighteen and you’re travelling half across the continent for a girl, I’d say the rebellious genes in your DNA are highly developed,” he joked, retracting his hand from Renjun’s shoulders. “I bet I could make a whole film based on your cuckoo clock heart,” Doyoung whipped out an empty journal from his bag, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his newfound friend. “Why not?” Renjun chuckled with a small shrug. 
“Young love, what a beautiful thing to see. You see, I never had any fond memories when it comes to being in love. All I do is invent and invent contraptions, and my former lover never appreciated my expertise. Life is far from easy when you’re in love, my young friend,” Doyoung sighed, leaning his arm against the seat with a heavy sigh. “Why don’t you come with me to Andalusia then, Mister Doyoung? I’m sure anything’s possible there and I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a company on my way there,” Renjun offered, the thought of making a new friend giving some light into his dark path.
“You want an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns following you in your journey to find love?” Doyoung’s eyes went wide in shock, a smile that mirrored Renjun’s appearing on his face. “I would love to have an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns in my quest!” Renjun laughed, nodding eagerly as he sat up straight to shake Doyoung’s hand to make a deal.
Renjun had  made another friend.
-
When they finally arrived in Andalusia, they stumbled upon a small amusement park where you were rumored to be staying in at the moment. “Well, first impressions?” Doyoung asked, looking around the ominous park filled with performers and eccentric workers setting up their tents. “It’s.. quite different than Edinburgh, I must admit,” Renjun chuckled, pulling on his suitcase eagerly as he scanned his eyes around in hopes that he might see your figure at the corner of his eye.
The park, unlike his old town, was way more colourful than Edinburgh. There were animals in colourful cages, happily interacting with their inmates. There were jesters and mimes practicing for their acts in the middle of the streets, happily entertaining a few visitors. There were food stands everywhere, Renjun swore you could exit this park penniless under five minutes if you really wanted to. 
“Come one, come all! For tonight we have special acts starting from 5 pm to-” 
He walked past whom he assumed was the announcer of the park, who was enthusiastically using a tricycle to spread his message all over the place. And upon walking around he stumbled upon what seems to be a horror attraction in the shape of a train, the owner standing inside of a coffin as she smoked her cigarette, eyeing Renjun suspiciously. “Looking for something, you little runt? A job, perhaps? Cause, I’m looking for a new employee to hire,” she asked, taking a puff of her cigarette in between her sentences. 
Renjun took his words back about Madam Wendy resembling Ms Havisham. Because at that given moment, he felt like Pip when he was first introduced to Ms Havisham in the book, clueless as to what he wanted with her. Renjun shook his head, no, mustering up the courage to give the older woman a polite smile. “I’m looking for a little singer?” he answered with an innocent smile. 
“A little singer? Here? The chances of that is equivalent to finding a snowflake in hell,” she rolled her eyes, taking another puff from her cigarette and blowing smoke into Renjun’s face. He coughed, taking a step back in alarm but he bit his tongue to snap back at the woman’s rude actions. “Listen, I’m just trying to find a little singer who sings like a lovely bird in the break of daw-” 
“Enough jabbering about her! Do you want the job or not?” she sighed exasperatedly. 
As Renjun was about to give the woman a piece of his mind for being so rude, the announcer cycling around him caught his attention with his words. “Ladies and Gentlemen, up next in our line of performers will be the young singing sensation, Miss Y/n! A lady who has travelled far and wide with her infamous street singing career,” the announcer said with a booming voice as he cycled to another part of the park.
“Miss Y/n?” he whispered with a soft gasp. “Well? Do you want the job or not?” the woman asked with a raised brow. He frowned involuntarily at the woman’s abrupt tone, clicking his tongue before running back to wherever Doyoung was. “I’ll think about it!” he exclaimed loudly before sprinting off, calling out his colleague’s name with a bright smile on his face. 
“I found her!”
-
“It is her!” he gasped, watching as you slowly come out of your little private trailer, music piercing his ears and your voice making its way into his heart like a knife throwing attraction. It hit right at the target perfectly. “It’s her, I can’t believe it,” Renjun could feel his breath being taken away. You had grown to be a beautiful woman, your features changed slightly due to the years but nonetheless, it didn’t do anything to stop Renjun’s heart from swelling up with adoration like a balloon being filled with helium. 
“Go into her trailer, no one’s going to notice you. Talk to her after her performance,” Doyoung encouraged with a slightly hushed tone. “Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes shot wide at the unexpected encouragement, his eyes wandering to the trailer you came out of. “I can’t do that! That’s a lady’s privacy!” he exclaimed, shaking his head aggressively. “Trust me, it’ll go smoothly! Just believe in yourself and try not to let the conversation die,” Doyoung hissed, nudging on the younger boy’s shoulder.
Renjun got up slowly, gulping down his fear as he quickly got into your trailer, eyes wide at his own stupidity. ‘God, why did I decide to do this? This is very uncouth of me to do so,’ he thought to himself, wincing slightly when he realised that the music had died down. A bouquet of daisies were in his hand, he didn’t know what to do at that moment as he observed your trailer. It wasn’t very far from you. It was decorated according to your liking.
Your favorite colour was splashed all over the walls, a mannequin standing idly beside the entrance, your dressing table with a gigantic mirror showing his nervous presence. He froze for a brief moment at the sound of your enchanting humming and your little footsteps coming closer to the trailer, making him stand behind the mannequin on pure instinct as you walked into the trailer with a skip in your step.
You were humming the same song you sang on the day you first met. Muttering the lyrics under your breath as you removed bits of dust from your clothing from the performance. Looking up at the mirror, you gasped at Renjun’s awkward figure standing behind your mannequin. You stood up abruptly, grabbing a perfume on your desk and raised it up threateningly at him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” you exclaimed in alarm. You couldn’t see his face very clearly considering you weren’t wearing your glasses.
“I’m sorry! I was tying my shoelaces when I fell into your floor,” Renjun shook his head, waving his hands around nervously to give off the message that he wasn’t some weird creep or stalker snooping around your belongings. “Do you always fall into a girl’s quarters when she’s changing?” you snapped, lowering your perfume hesitantly as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the boy. “NO! No! I would never, I swear! I don’t even know why I’m-”
“You look suspiciously familiar as if I recognise you from somewhere,” you mumbled under your breath, squinting your eyes at him. “You recognise me?” Renjun perked up, a smile stretching across his face as he took a step away from the mannequin towards you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes before turning to the mirror to adjust your appearance. “What do you want anyway?” you sighed, as if you were used to this sort of encounter.
“I’d like to give you a bouquet of daisies,” Renjun bit his lip, pulling the bouquet behind him and leaning it towards your direction. “Daisies? I can’t say they’re my favorite flowers,” you chuckled, looking up at him with a more relaxed expression. “I have no idea why, but peculiarly, daisies always reminds me of my glasses,” you confessed, putting the bouquet on your desk and standing up towards the exit. “I stopped wearing them a long, long time ago. They make me look like some weird bug,” you joked, looking back at Renjun, who chuckled at your words.
‘You really haven’t changed, huh?’
“It’s fine by me,” Renjun chuckled, walking closer towards you in comforting silence. The way your eyes made contact with his softly made his stomach do somersaults, the gears of his heart felt like it was powered by a burst of energy. “Could we see each other again?” he asked hesitantly, “I’d like to get to know you even more,” he added, snucking his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps,” you shrugged, giving him a smile that mirrored his own. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?”
“Oh, no! I’m not, I’m the-I work at the ghost train,” Renjun lied through his teeth, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh, you’re the new scarer? That’s wonderful news to hear,” you exclaimed, clapping your hands to congratulate him on his new job. “Yes, of course! Exactly, I’m the new scarer,” he nodded, a little bit too eagerly if you asked him. “Can I come see you in action?” you laughed lightly, observing how fidgety the boy in front of you is as he stepped out of your trailer.
“Of course!”
“Tomorrow? Around four?” 
“I’ll see you then.”
-
As the weeks went by, the love between you and Renjun blossomed like a rose. You bonded over your love for art and music in general, rekindling the friendship you used to have. But unfortunately for Renjun, you didn’t recognise him, not a single bit. It was against his beliefs to hit a woman, for that was very impolite of a man, but whenever you mumble how you couldn’t put your finger on how you recognize him from somewhere then proceeds to drop the conversation, he couldn’t lie. He wanted to smack you upside the head for your oblivious self. 
‘Oblivious, rather ludicrous and as blind as a bat. Why did I fancy her, again?’ he would always ponder to himself on a daily basis before watching you run around to try the newest food from each of the food stalls with a bright smile on your face. ‘Oh, right, that’s why,’ he sighed heavily before going over to you with his hands clasped behind his back, mentally preparing himself to fall head over heels for you over and over again.
Today, he was giving you a tour of the ghost train. (yes, he took up the offer with a roll of his eyes just so he can stay here and spent more time with you) “You’re doing a wonderful job here, by the way. It looked like people are having a lot of fun riding the ghost train with your assistance,” you complimented, giving Renjun a soft smile as you walk along the dark train tracks.
“Why thank you, my boss can’t say the same, however,” he grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the thought of his boss being ashamed of him for ruining her quote unquote reputation. “Don’t mind her, she’s always been like that,” you waved it off with a small giggle, patting his shoulder. “Hmm,” he nodded, a pregnant pause settling between you two as you basked in each other’s company. “How did you like the glasses I gave you?” 
Everyday, Renjun would find the most ominous and peculiar looking glasses that were all twisted and broken to give to you, which always brought a smile upon your face knowing full well that you couldn’t wear them no matter how much you tried. “Awful, as usual,” you joked, clasping your hands behind your back as you skipped along the tracks, your shoes hitting the dark coal with a soft ‘tip tap’. “Wonderful,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head profusely at you.
“I still can’t shake over the feeling that I’ve been in this situation before, or maybe I dreamed of this moment before,” you blurted out, looking around the damp cave-like tunnel you were walking through. Renjun bit his lip sadly, suppressing the urge to tell you that he was the boy you met back in Edinburgh. Yet again, what if you left for a reason? What if you left because you didn’t want to see him again? He feared the worse as time went on. 
“I’m sure we’ve met before but I don’t know where,” you turned to him with a smile tugging at your lips. “Really,” Renjun looked down at his feet, kicking the coal as you both paused in your step and turned your bodies to look at each other in the eyes. You somehow found comfort in looking into Renjun’s eyes, but you couldn’t pinpoint why they constantly gave you a sense of deja vu whenever you stare into them for too long. “What’s that odd pitter patter?” you mumbled, hearing a familiar tapping sound in the tunnel.
He bit back a smile, “it’s the rain.” 
He knew those words all too well. “Do you like the rain?” he asked, putting his hand behind his back as he adjusted the top hat on his head. “Getting wet? No,” you shook your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “But the sound it makes? Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically, making Renjun laugh at your slight eagerness. “And I’ve heard that noise before somewhere,” you whispered, loud enough for Renjun to hear. 
“That’s because it’s my heart,” he couldn’t help but blurted out, putting a hand on his little coat. “Pardon?” you furrowed your brows in confusion, watching him tug on his coat to reveal a miniscule cuckoo clock on his chest. “My heart, they made it for me on the day I was born. It’s a bit cold and a little fragile, but it works,” he sighed, watching as you observe the small contraption on his heart with a curious expression, pulling out the key from his pockets.
“You can open me up with this little key,” he grabbed your hand and placed the key in between your fingers, letting you push the key into his heart and turning it to the left before opening the door of his clock. “Fascinating, do you always let other girls walk into the train tracks with you and let them open your heart?” you chuckled, raising your brow at the boy in front of you, whose eyes widened in surprise as you pulled your hand away from his heart. 
“No, not really. In fact, you’re the first one,” Renjun shook his head with a sweet smile, closing the door shut and pulling out the key before placing it back into his pocket. “Oh, thanks,” your eyes widened slightly at his blunt expression, putting a hand on your arm shyly. “You’re welcome,” he chuckled, patting the key in his pocket. Renjun’s eyes wandered from your eyes to your soft lips, his heart racing against his chest at the thought of finally picking up where you had left off all those years. He didn’t even realise that he was leaning his head towards yours. 
“Wait- no,” you pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him away as you turned your head to the side with guilt glossing over your eyes. “Don’t,” you shook your head as you took a step back. “I really like you. There’s a warm fuzzy feeling growing in my tummy that’s making me pull towards you like a magnet, but,” you paused, looking down at your hands nervously as they lay limp on your sides. “My heart belongs to someone else,” you gave him a sympathetic smile. 
“Someone I met a long, long time ago. You always reminded me of him. “I’m still waiting until the day we reunite once again, embarking on a romantic adventure with you would just be unfair,” you sighed heavily, rubbing your arms nervously as you slowly let Renjun down. A great pang of pain pierced through Renjun’s whole body at your words, he could almost feel his heart tear itself apart as he watched you walk away and out of the ghost tunnel. 
Away from him.
-
“Renjun! You’re back! So? How did it go?” Doyoung exclaimed, fixing his latest invention with a cough, dropping his tweezers in his bag as he wiped his hands on a nearby cloth. Doyoung had rented an empty building so that he could introduce his new inventions to the public and entertain them with them. “She loves someone else,” Renjun mumbled under his breath, tossing his top hat onto one of the seats they set up as he sat down on the steps of the small indoor stage Doyoung had built over the past few weeks.
“I travelled halfway across Europe for her for absolutely nothing,” Renjun laid his head on his palms, sighing heavily as he tried to keep himself from screaming in pain. His heart was hurting. It was way different than the pain he felt two years ago, it was a whole new level of emotional pain he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. “Did you at least confess your love for her?” Doyoung asked, taking a seat next to the boy as Renjun gripped his hair tightly in distress. 
“Why bother? Her heart’s filled to the brim, there’s no way I could empty it out like a sink,” Renjun pulled his head out of his hands, his elbows laying on his legs as he threw the golden key to his heart against the carpet floor out of frustration. “You can’t just let your efforts go to waste, Renjun. Did she at least recognise you?” Doyoung asked, leaning over to grab the key and place it back into his younger friend’s palm with a heavy sigh.
He shook his head, turning it to look at the older man who adjusted his monocle. “No, I’d prefer her not to remember who I am than to remember me and not love me in return,” Renjun leaned his cheek against his palm, eyes looking down sadly at his feet. “You can’t just give up like that, Renjun. Love is like a shooting star you’re supposed to seek after, a wish you must grant yourself with the fifty percent chance of getting the outcome you desire,” Doyoung encouraged, leaning back against his palms behind him. 
Renjun chuckled softly, a sad smile appearing on his lips. “I never felt so sad yet so happy at the same time,” he shook his head, pressing his knuckles to his temples hard. “Ah yes, two of the most powerful and impactful emotions of the human soul combined into one,” Doyoung mused, raising a brow at his lovesick friend. “If only she believed me about my heart, her expression tells me that she thinks it’s some kind of sick joke,” he scoffed, kicking the air with one foot as he let out a huff of exhaustion.
“Well, did she say who has captured her heart?” Doyoung asked, raising his brow, causing Renjun’s eyes to shoot up wide. 
The impact of Kim Doyoung’s words have never failed to get Renjun’s adrenaline rushing again through his veins as he walked into your trailer with a small push against your door. “Do I know him?” Renjun asked abruptly, wanting to get straight to the point as he was very eager to know who has captured your heart. “Could you stop barging into my trailer all the time?” you retorted, turning towards him as you put down your makeup brush on your desk. “The boy you’re in love with, do I know him?” Renjun repeated, the gears of his heart racing against his chest.
He doesn’t even know if he wants the answer to that question. “No,” you replied bluntly, adjusting the laces on your dress. “So you’re not in love with him anymore?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he crossed his arms against his chest and leaned against the door. “No, that’s not what I meant!” you huffed, feeling yourself getting frustrated the more he edged you on. “Look, it was a very, very long time ago when I first met him,” you rolled your eyes.
“It was back when my parents still made me move from city to city. Oh god, that city was practically made for him. The aura of the city radiated the same aura he had back when I first met him, cold and depressing. Nonetheless the more I got to know him, the more I realised that inside he was just a warm human being that needed someone to light up his perspective,” you sighed, clasping your hands together right in front of you. There was a loud ‘cuckoo!’ that pierced both of your ears, and suddenly, a small gear shot from Renjun’s heart and hit the wooden closet right beside you. 
“Would you stop playing with your clock? You could injure someone, it won’t hurt to take it off occasionally, will it?” you exclaimed with a gasp, looking up at him with bold eyes as you put your hands on your hips. “I can’t help it, it’s not some bloody toy! It’s my heart,” he snapped back, his hands balled up into fists as he felt his blood boiling in his veins at the sound of you talking so highly of someone else that wasn’t him. The way you talked about whoever this boy is was the same way he talked about you to everyone else. 
He took a deep breath to calm himself down when he saw your taken aback reaction, “I’m sorry.” You let out a deep sigh as you stood up from your desk, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort the poor fellow. “Look, I would really appreciate it if we could become friends. How about we go down to the theater tomorrow? I heard Mister Doyoung made a new contraption to add to the cinematic universe,” you suggested, giving him a kind smile as you took his hand in yours to try and cheer him up a bit. 
“I’d really like to go together.” No matter how much his heart was telling him to rest for the rest of his life, no matter how much in pain he’s currently in, but the moment he looked into your eyes, he knew he couldn’t say no. 
-
“Would you care to share more information about your romeo?” Renjun asked, holding his wrist behind him as you two walked outside of the amusement park together after the show. “Oh, don’t call him that. I absolutely despise that specific work of Shakespeare’s,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you hopped over a pebble, grunting as you caught your balance. Renjun chuckled, “why so?” he asked, raising his brow at you. 
“The typical damsel in distress trope never failed to make my blood boil like a pot of water on high heat,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I prefer to call him my Pip,” you giggled, climbing up a small hill before sitting on top of the grass and laying your head down with a content sigh. “Pip? Why Pip to be exact?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he took a seat next to your lying figure, leaning back against his palms. “A couple years ago, right before I left. We had this small debate on happy endings and shakespearean works,” you started, gazing up at the starry night sky. 
“I would constantly babble on and on about how women shouldn’t be the damsel in distress, then one day he whipped out this book out of nowhere like some sort of magician! It was called the Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, I finally finished when I left the city so I never got around to returning the book he let me borrowed,” you sighed, placing your hands on your tummy as you giggled at the thought of your first love possibly getting mad at you for leaving without a goodbye with the addition of not returning his book back. 
Renjun’s heart raced at your small story, his body froze as his ears grew a slight tint of pink (which wasn’t very visible, thanks to the dim lighting of the moon shining down upon the two of you) when he realised that you were talking about him. You were talking about him all along. “I realised why he let me borrow the book though, I asked for an unhappy ending without the female protagonist being the damsel in distress. It was a beautiful story, really,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you thought back to the times you shared back in Edinburgh.
“He would always listen to my rambles as he painted some random landscape in town, showing me his talents as well as listening to my words as I ranted about the foolish decisions of the characters. He reminds me of Pip a little bit. A bit childish, a bit foolish, a little bit misunderstood,” you went on, before pausing briefly, eyes opening to look up at your new friend. “Should I stop? I don’t want to bore you with my story, I tend to ramble a lot unintentionally,” you asked, receiving an aggressive shake of Renjun’s head. 
“No! No! Keep going, I’m getting very interested in your story, do continue,” he laughed lightly, looking down at his clock, biting back his lip to keep himself from jumping for joy. “The last day I saw him- oh god, I remember it every night before I go to bed. I never had my glasses on around him, so my memory of his physical appearance is rather blurry. But I remembered it like it was yesterday. Sure, I might not recognize him today with my own eyes but I remembered we almost shared a kiss,” a wide smile stretched across your face as a warm feeling bubbled up inside of you at the vivid memory. 
“Yeah?” Renjun couldn’t help but let a wide smile spread across his own lips at the thought, turning his head to the side to suppress the urge to tackle you in a strong embrace. You remembered. “He offered to be my eyes, he offered to keep me from straying down the wrong path. I never got a chance to say yes,” you giggled, rubbing your palms against your eyes as you felt a giddy feeling inside both of your chests. “Guess he was too eager to kiss you before you could say yes?” Renjun joked, grimacing at his own childishness. 
You chuckled, shrugging simply. “I guess so, I didn’t mind though. It felt exhilarating. I didn’t know how it happened but he also tore a little bit of my dress as well,” you shook your head, looking back up at the stars scattered across the sky. Oh how Renjun was using all the strength vested inside of him to keep his heart from going ‘cuckoo!’ right in front of you right now. “He might not remember me, I sent him a postcard a couple weeks ago. I never received one back. But someday, when we reunite, I’d like to thank him for the lovely book and for teaching me what love feels like.”
“Everytime I’m near his company I would always feel so safe. So happy, so loved. Genuinely happy and genuinely loved,” you sighed, closing your eyes once again as you took in the fresh air. “I’m sure he felt the same,” Renjun felt his cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. “Hey, can we see each other again?” he spoke after a moment of comforting silence. “Alright, when?” you opened your eyes, squinting your eyes suspiciously at him. “Noon? At the theater, I have something to tell you,” he grinned. 
“Alright then, is something wrong? Why the funny face?” you chuckled, sitting up from your laying position, cocking your head to the side as you raised your eyebrow at him. “Nothing, I’m just really excited to show you this,” he shook his head, he couldn’t hide his big smile from you any longer. 
Just like how he couldn’t hide his longing and love for you that he has been harboring for the past two years. 
“She’s in love with me,” he said to Doyoung, who gave him a proud grin in return. “Congratulations, my dear boy! You tamed the spark in your heart,” he gave Renjun a pat on the back, who smiled sadly in response. “But there’s a problem. She’s in love with the other me, the one back in Edinburgh,” he sighed, sitting down on one of the seats in the theater. “I don’t see why this is a problem. The ‘you’ back in Edinburgh is still the same ‘you’ now!” Doyoung furrowed his brows in confusion. 
“I assume so, but what am I supposed to say to her?” Renjun ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 
“Tell her how you feel! ‘It’s me! Renjun! The boy you loved oh-so-dearly for all these years! Your first love from Edinburgh, I have travelled far and wide all over Europe to find you, my love. So now let me take your hand and let’s venture and sail for the skies! In each other’s loving embrace!’” Doyoung boomed, throwing his hand in the air to make grand gestures as he spoke, standing up in the midst of his words. 
“Quite poetic, but I tried. The words are jammed at the back of my throat and I can’t let them out,” Renjun huffed, internally cursing at himself for holding himself back because of a small guilt lingering in his chest. “You’re still afraid of what might become of your heart once you fall completely, aren’t you?” Doyoung sympathized, putting a hand on his hip as he frowned upon his young friend’s unfortunate condition. “A part of me is still guilty for putting all of Madam Wendy’s efforts in vain,” Renjun laughed bitterly. 
“I thought you wanted to love and to be loved back, you mustn’t be afraid!” Doyoung encouraged, using the same tone he used previously to influence all of Renjun’s previous actions with a wide toothy smile. “You’re eighteen, you deserve the love you’ve been longing for, Renjun.” 
Renjun bit back a smile, shaking his head out of his insecurities as he stood up to his feet. “You’re right, I should’ve just told her who I was at the start. You have to help me come up with something.”
-
“Renjun? Are you here?” You called out, entering the theater bashfully. “Right here, Ms!” Naeun, Doyoung’s new friend, coaxed, waving her hand to tell you to sit on the front row, right in front of the stage. A familiar merry tune played in the background as the curtains were pulled back to reveal two puppets of what appeared to be you and a familiar little boy from Edinburgh. Doyoung came into view, clearing his throat as Naeun strummed the chords of the song you sang on the day you met your first love with a ukulele in her hand. 
“It was a lovely day in Edinburgh,” Doyoung began, looking towards the puppets. “Little miss y/n who was sixteen years old was dancing around in her dainty shoes, getting her feet all in a tangle before tumbling down to the floor due to her own clumsiness,” Renjun added with a small nervous laugh, moving his own little puppet around and towards the mini puppet version of yourself. “On the day they first met, she would ask ‘what’s that odd pitter patter?’ ‘What’s making that noise?’” Naeun hummed melodiously, causing your eyes to widen with every single word that comes out of their mouths. 
“It’s just the rain, do you like the rain?” Renjun asked, shooting you a short glance as if to say ‘sounds familiar?’
You furrowed your brows, lips pressed into a thin line as you silently watched the performance in front of you, taking every single last bit of information they were sharing into your head as took in the meaning of their words. “Miss Y/n adored the sound of the rain, but however, all this time she didn’t realise that the sound she came to adore came from the tick tock of Renjun’s mechanical heart,” Doyoung recited, looking down on his little card before sharing a knowing look with Renjun and Naeun upon seeing the flabbergasted expression etched on your face.
“Oh, how if he had told her where that pitter patter had come from, would she recognize him the instant they reunite? Would Renjun have to suffer the pain of travelling half across Europe to see her only to not be recognized for the little lady could not rely on her own eyes?” he added on, adding a bit of suspense as the settings on the puppet show changed slightly to the two of you sitting on top of a crescent moon side by side, sending you flashbacks to the last day you saw your first love. 
“Perhaps, if he had told her, would she have believed him and sampled the magical intimacy of blending dream and reality?” 
Soon, your eyes got glossy with tears. Your heart racing rapidly against your chest as you sat there in complete silence, the new information overwhelming your sentences as you watched the two puppets kissed on the crescent moon, the exact same way you were supposed to kiss two years ago. You sniffled, putting a hand up against one of your eyes to keep your tears from falling as Renjun walked up towards you and off of the stage with his hands behind his back. 
The curtains closed as he gave you a boyish smile, outstretching his hand to show you the piece of fabric he accidentally tore from your dress and the postcard you had sent out almost a month ago. You gasped, delicate fingers gently grabbing the postcard to inspect it. It was indeed the postcard you had sent, it was indeed your handwriting, it was indeed the same filthy postcard you sent a month ago. 
Within a few seconds, you fell unconscious as all this information was too much for you to handle. 
“Oh bloody hell, we killed her!” Renjun cried out in panic, taking a step back in alarm at your sudden concussion. Doyoung and Naeun’s head shot from in between the curtains, hissing at him to not panic and carry you back to your trailer. He sucked his bottom lip as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around your knees and your back, making you lean against his chest, your head so close to his. He gulped as he walked out of the theater, nervously praying to whatever God up there is watching him to not make him drop you in the middle of the streets. 
But fortunately for him, he managed to carry you back to your bed safe and sound. Laying your head on the pillow, he stood idly on the side of your bed, watching your sleeping features. You looked so content, his fingers itched to run themselves around your hair and to caress your cheeks. Oh how he longed to nuzzle his nose against yours lovingly and how he longed to press his lips against yours-
‘A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!’
He grunted as his body twitched as his guardian’s words flashed through his mind like lightning and thunder, Madam Wendy’s sorrowful expression couldn’t help but make its way through his mind, causing his body to twitch once again. He took deep, staggering breaths as he palmed his heart in pain, eyes moving over to your sleeping figure before Madam Wendy appeared once again in his vision. 
‘Do you know why I saved your life?’
“If you really are the boy from my time in Edinburgh, why did you wait all this time?” 
His head shot up at the sound of your voice, his eyes wandered to your figure as you stared down at the piece of fabric. “What can I say? You’re an idiot, I feared you won’t recognize me considering you’ve never actually used your glasses during our small encounters,” Renjun chuckled sadly, sitting on your bed as you sat up and leaned on the headboard. “You didn’t even say goodbye, I thought you left because you were in shock of my sudden concussion on that day,” he said half-jokingly, putting a hand behind his neck.
You gave him a sad smile, caressing the postcard with your thumb. “My parents were tricked that day. They trusted the wrong person and the police got a hold of them, my mother left me outside all alone so the police wouldn’t find me and take me away too,” you explained, pulling your knees to your chest as you leaned your chin on your arms. “I remembered being so alone, so cold. That’s why I decided to flee Edinburgh, we weren’t allowed to stay for too long. Our neighbour told us they were going to get us permits but the next day… unfortunately that happened.”
Renjun’s heart ached for you, he never wanted to see you sad. Even though you weren’t supposed to be in Edinburgh in the first place, he felt slightly selfish for it. If it weren’t for the fact that your parents had moved her, maybe your parents would still be by your side to this day. However you can’t change what’s been done, the past is the past. He couldn’t do anything to make the pain of losing a parent go away that easily. 
He placed a hand on yours, rubbing his thumb soothingly against your knuckles in a silent attempt to comfort you. You smiled at him, scooting closer to Renjun without hesitation. “I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t know,” Renjun spoke briefly, letting your fingers intertwine with his own tightly. He reached over to his pocket, pulling out the key to his heart and tugged your intertwined fingers together. “I can’t make the pain of losing your loved ones go away like a magician could, but the only thing I can assure you is that I’m not going anywhere and this key is the living proof of it.” 
He laid the small golden key in your palm, tucking your fingers against it. “This is the key that winds me up, without it, I would be knocked out for good,” he chuckled, gazing his eyes deeply into yours. “You can wind me up, open up my heart, do whatever you want,” he shrugged, watching you scoot closer to him and mirrored the same actions as the ones he showed you on the Ghost Train. “If it hurts, don’t hesitate to tell me,” you informed him, turning the key to the right slowly. 
“It doesn’t usually hurt,” he laughed lightly, eyes filled with love and adoration. He felt his heart spark up with the same comforting flame you manage to set. He found comfort in the love of his life gently caressing his fragile heart as if it was made out of the rarest jewels in existence. 
He found comfort in you. You really are the key to his heart. 
“There you are, you little brat!” the owner of the ghost train spat, entering the trailer quite rudely. “You there, what are you doing holding back my employee? As if he doesn’t slack off enough on the job,” she sighed exasperatedly, taking out another cig from her pocket before lighting it up. “You have ten minutes to get there, it’s almost starting,” she hissed, her tone filled with anger and malice as she made her way out of the trailer with a huff of breath.
You and Renjun shared knowing looks, giggling softly as you pulled the key out of his heart. “I think we should get going,” you said in an almost hushed tone as if you were to make a louder sound, you would break the comforting silence between the two of you. You outstretched your hand to give him back his key but Renjun shook his head at you, chuckling softly as he gently curled your fingers against the key in your palms and gently pushed your hand back towards you. 
“Keep it, I insist,” he shook his head. “What? No, don’t be silly! It’s the key to your heart, Renjun. It’s yours, I can’t keep it,” you shook your head receiving the same chuckle from the boy in front of you. “No, from now on, it’s yours,” he grabbed your free hand in his, intertwining your fingers once again. “Let’s run away together,” he suggested, squeezing your hand in his as he crossed his legs together. 
“Excuse me?” your eyes widened at his words. “After your show, run away with me and let’s make the world our oyster,” he gave you the widest grin he could muster, his cheeks was starting to hurt from smiling too much and for too long. He didn’t know where the sudden suggestion came from his mind but he wanted to do what he’s always dreamt of doing with you, to sail for the skies hand in hand with you by his side. (And maybe live a content life in a cottage with three cats and a whole art studio, but that can wait. After all, he’s waited this long to finally reunite with you)
“This is going to sound very cliche but where would we even go?” you giggled, finding his eagerness quite adorable considering it was a rare sight to see, even back when you were still in Edinburgh. “I don’t know, anywhere! The seas, the trees, as long as I’m with you I’m willing to make do with anywhere. As long as you say yes,” he squeezed your hand encouragingly against his, loving eyes pleading for you to say yes. And the smile you gave him was enough to give him his answer.
-
Renjun ran all over the amusement park with his suitcase in hand, the sound of your voice booming through the speakers as he felt the adrenaline rush through his veins, happiness surging through every part of his body. He was finally living, he was no longer going to live in the same, miserable hollow shell he had been living his whole entire life. A bright smile spread across his face as he entered the theater, panting heavily.
“Well then?” Doyoung pipped up, putting his hands at his hips as Renjun gained his composure as though Renjun’s wide smile hadn’t given him the answer he was hoping for. “She loves me, the real me,” he sighed exasperatedly, putting his hands on his chest as he could hardly believe it himself. “Congratulations, my dear boy! I’m delighted for you, absolutely delighted,” he gave Renjun a hug and patted his back as if he was his own younger brother. 
“We’re going to run away for the hills together after her show, I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sure I wouldn’t have done this without your help,” Renjun beamed, pulling away to shake his old friend’s hand enthusiastically, his mechanical heart racing rapidly against his chest at the thought of eloping with you all over Europe. “I’m going to miss you, Renjun. Do write to me from time to time,” he gave him a nod, a proud smile etched on his face, causing Renjun to chuckle and nod. “Of course.”
As Renjun was in the middle of packing, your show had finally ended. You snuck back in your trailer to pack your own clothes, but then you saw none other than one of your fellow performers, Choi San, sitting on your desk with a small piece of paper in hand. “San? What on earth are you doing here?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you took out your suitcases from your closet. “I heard you’re going to run off with that new boy,” he grinned, chuckling slightly as he smacked the paper against your desk. “Renjun? Oh! Turns out, he was the boy I fell in love with back in Edinburgh,” you giggled, shoving random clothes into your suitcase, your makeup bags, your shoes, anything you could possibly fit into one single bag. 
“I need to tell you something before you get into serious trouble,” San informed, giving you a hard expression before hopping off your desk to hand you the piece of paper. “I was doing my daily letter checking at the post office and I found this in the mail, it was from Renjun’s guardian from Edinburgh,” he sighed, crossing his arms as you opened the piece of paper to reveal a fancy handwriting underneath. “It tells you everything you need to know about Renjun.” 
You squinted, pulling your glasses from your purse and putting them on. “What are you going on about here, San?” you furrowed your brows as you read through the letter. It was indeed from the ‘Madam Wendy’ Renjun would always rant to you about during your days together back in Edinburgh. “That thing he calls a heart, it’s not what you think it is. It’s a grenade, a ticking time bomb waiting to be triggered, he’s dangerous, y/n,” San informed, his hard expression turning into worry.
“I'm just glad I came here before it was too late,” he sighed in relief, looking down at his feet. “No, San, you must be mistaken. Renjun wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s absolutely harmless!” You shook your head, refusing to believe his words as you looked down at the letter. “For now, but until he loses control of his heart and therefore fails to abide by the three rules Wendy had given him on the day he was born,” San informed, his eyes narrowing at the letter. 
“The three rules?” you furrowed your brows at him, watching as San’s expression grew dim with sympathy. “Everything you need to know is in that letter, I’ll give you some time to yourself,” San patted your back with a comforting smile before exiting the trailer, leaving you with the letter and your own thoughts. 
-
“Are you trying to make me a murderer?!” you exclaimed, exiting your trailer with your fists clenched up tightly by your side. “Excuse me?” Renjun furrowed his brows in confusion, being taken aback as he took a step towards you with his suitcase in hand. “What are you even talking about?” he asked, letting the air sink back into his lungs from all the running he had to do all over the amusement park. “Madam Wendy told me everything in this letter,” you shoved the letter against his chest, watching as shock took over his features.
“Wendy sent a letter?” he gaped, his jaw dropping to the floor as he inspected what seems to be his caretaker’s handwritten letter. “She told me about the three rules, how you ran away against her wishes, everything! Were you not going to tell me these important details?” you hopped off of the first few steps of your trailer to come closer to the boy you love deeply in front of you. “Or did you forget to tell me something as serious as that?” you snapped, sadness and betrayal flossing over your eyes.
Renjun felt his heart sink into his stomach at your hurtful expression, he was so caught up in the fantasy of running away with you, he completely forgot about his fragile condition for a brief moment. “Who even are you, Renjun? I want to know who’s the man I’m falling in love with,” you gripped the hem of your dress to keep yourself from screaming at him out of pure frustration and anger, feeling your heart ready to explode at the fact that you had the potential to kill him if your relationship proceeded from this far on. 
“I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if you died,” you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat, looking down to hide your glossy eyes as you tried your best not to think of what would happen to him if you hadn’t received that letter. 
Renjun froze in place, his eyes turning glossy with his own tears as he watched you speak, the words jammed at the back of his throat as he knew, deep down, there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was far too late, he can’t do anything to change your mind anymore. “I refuse to love you, I refuse to be a murderer. That’s not my idea of love,” you shook your head at him, putting the back of your hand against your eyelids to wipe away the tears. Every word that came out of your mouth felt like a dagger into his mechanical heart. It hurt. Renjun was hurting. His heart was breaking right in front of you, and you both knew it. 
“It’s selfish,” you couldn’t help but splutter out. “No, wait. You got it all wrong, y/n,” he finally spoke up, frustration filling his veins as he found the courage to speak up. “Oh, so you didn’t escape your guardian’s home without permission, thus causing her to worry about you for the past few weeks with no information whatsoever?” you snapped, putting your hands on your hips after you wiped your tears away. “Yes, but that isn’t the problem here!” he shook his head, taking a step towards you as he groaned in frustration. 
“There you go! Oh, so now you’re going to disobey another rule and lose your temper?” 
“It’s not like that! Just listen to me-” Renjun reached his hand out to your face before his body started twitching in pain, causing him to drop on his knees as gears and screws popped out of his heart. You gasped, watching as your lover writhe in pain on his knees, letting out pained grunts for the next fifteen seconds right in front of you. Thus, giving you a brief image of what was going to happen if you continued on. 
“You’re scaring me, Renjun.” 
“I’m sorry.” he breathed out, putting his hand on his knees as he ignored the steaming state of his cuckoo clock heart. Your eyes softened at his guilty figure, your hands laying limp by your sides as you let out a sad sigh. “Goodbye, Renjun.” Were your last words before you walked away from him, leaving him to deal with his own pain. 
“I did the craziest things for you. My life isn’t always topsy turvy when it comes to love, but I put my life in your hands because I truly love you,” Renjun confessed, causing you to pause in your step. You inhaled deeply, not giving him a spare glance. “Yes, I agree, your actions are inhumane at this point, but count me out, Renjun,” you hissed back, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep yourself from shaking and breaking down right in front of him. “I’d prefer you to be hurt like this than dead, I can’t live with myself if I was the reason for your passing,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes briefly.
“Please just leave me alone. I’m not running away with you.”
You didn’t look back as you walked away, ignoring the sound of a distraught Renjun getting to his knees, holding his heart in pain. His eyes scrunched up in pain as he let out small grunts, trying to get to his feet back to make his way back to the theater. He collapsed back to the concrete ground as soon as he got to his feet, the ear piercing sound of his clock falling apart before him lingered in his mind as cogs and screws popped out of his makeshift heart. He wanted to scream out your name and plead for you to come back into his embrace, but he knew you wouldn’t turn back. 
So he did the only thing that came into his mind in order to stop this unbearable pain. He got up to his feet, putting two hands on his clock and pulled hard, ignoring the physical pain it brought him as he tried to rip out his own heart from his chest. Letting out a scream of pain as he collapsed to the floor, pieces of wood and metal scattering across the floor and drops of blood dripping from the doors of his heart. 
“Renjun!”
Doyoung and Naeun came up to Renjun as quickly as they could, holding him up as he coughed heavily. “I want to change into a new clock, I’m so tired of this one constantly falling into bits every time I feel the slightest bit of joy,” he mumbled almost monotonously, letting out another fit of coughs afterward. “Madam Wendy was right,” he added with a light painful laugh. “I suppose I have some spare parts to help you fix your clock from my camera, I’ll go get them-” Doyoung insisted but Renjun gripped on the older man’s wrist urgently. 
“No, I want a new heart. I’m tired of this one. One that works. I’ll never fall in love again,” he leaned over, cupping his mouth as he coughed once again, feeling more gears pop out of his clock like a confetti from a canon. “You’re running out of time, Renjun, you must seek help immediately. Is there anything you can do to salvage what’s left of your heart until you get back to Edinburgh?” Doyoung asked, furrowing his brows. “I can’t, I gave the key to Y/n. She left me, I can’t get it back anymore,” Renjun shook his head sadly, looking down at his own blood staining his fingertips.
“That key is your life, Renjun! You took a huge risk,” Doyoung shook his head at how deeply in love the boy in front of him was. “I know,” he mumbled, his words becoming more breathy by the moment. “You must return to Edinburgh and have Wendy patch you up again, it’s the only way to save your life,” Doyoung slung an arm around his shoulder, lifting him up as Naeun helped with carrying his suitcase. 
Doyoung led a heartbroken Renjun onto a carriage to the nearest train station. He insisted on coming with the young lad but Renjun wanted to face the consequences of his actions alone, he couldn’t bear to rip his friend away from the path of success he was walking into. So, with a heavy heart, Renjun rode the train back to Edinburgh with his eyes closed and his heart hurting like hell against his chest. 
‘This must be the same feeling Pip went through when Estella finally broke his heart to elope with some other man she didn’t love.’ he thought bitterly to himself.
-
“Madam Wendy what?” your jaw dropped as San shared a new bit of information. 
He leaned over, showing you the newspaper he was reading which informed you that Madam Wendy had passed in her prison cell. Apparently, she was caught for tampering with mechanics on a dangerous level with her other patients and was thrown in jail once again, but the disappearance of her adopted child had a great impact on her health, therefore she left her body in the cell she was staying in. 
“Oh, no. Oh dear god, no,” you hopped out of San’s performance tent, patting your pockets and pulling out the key that belongs to Renjun’s heart. “What’s wrong?” San asked, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth as he stood up as well, worried as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Renjun gave me the key to his heart, I forgot to give it back,” you yelled back, running as quick as you could to the theater, the only place where Renjun could be at the moment. 
You knocked as hard as you could, calling out the boy’s name in a panic. “Miss Y/n? What are you doing here?” Doyoung asked, opening the door as he rubbed his eyes from the lack of sleep. “Can you tell me where I can find Renjun? I still have the key to his heart,” you asked in an abrupt tone, showing the older man the key in your palms. “Nothing to worry about, Miss! He’s on his way back to Edinburgh as we speak, Doctor Wendy can patch him up in a jiffy!” Doyoung smiled. 
“That’s what I’m afraid of, oh god, no. But Madam Wendy’s passed away,” you informed, clenching your fists with the key in your hand. Doyoung’s eyes widened in surprise, his face turning pale at your words. “Oh boy, that isn’t good news. Go after him, hurry! Save Renjun before it’s too late, that’s what he wants more than anything. I put him on a carriage to the nearest train station. If you’re lucky, you might catch him on the train before it departs,” Doyoung rummaged through his bag, pulling out a random journal. 
“Here, take this. In case you don’t catch up to him, here’s something to read on the way. It’s a journal I kept ever since the very day I met Renjun,” he handed you the journal as Naeun called another carriage for you to ride to the train station. You sighed, your head filled with worry as you looked up at the two adults willing to help you save Renjun despite the fact that you were the main reason why he was in this mess in the first place. 
“Thank you.”
-
Renjun laid in the snow, near the house where he used to call home. Sniffling as he leaned against the tree at the bottom of the hill. Joy and Yeri had contacted him and brought him the news of his caretaker’s passing. Sulking as guilt took over his body, regretting every single decision he had made the past few months. And now he’s going to suffer the consequences of dying all alone. He couldn’t walk into his own home after the news, choosing to lay down under the snow to let himself slowly freeze to death and possibly hypothermia. 
So now, he was taking his last few breaths, enjoying the bright sky as he watched his skin froze, tears slowly turning into eyes as he laid there all heartbroken and damaged. His hair was white from the snowfall, with bits of brown peaking out in between as he sniffled and sobbed over the loss of his mother. Taking deep breaths to regain his composure, as his skin grew numb against the cold. 
“Renjun! I’m here!” 
It was as if the God above had decided to send an angel back to help him, he slowly looked up with half lidded eyes, a small shaky smile spreading across his lips as you fell to your knees to help him. “Renjun, oh dear god, no,” you whimpered, leaning close as you laid a hand on his jaw, making him lean his head up to look at you weakly. You grimaced at his cold skin, it felt like ice to you. It was as if he was turning into a giant ice cube right in front of you.
His appearance made your heart break. He looked so pale and broken since the last time you saw him. His eyes were red and swollen from the tears, snow gathering on his eyelashes, eyebrows, hair and clothing. Hell, he was wearing nothing but the thin coat he wore the last time you saw him. Dried blood was stuck to his cuckoo clock heart which was in a worse condition than it was back in Andalusia. You ran your thumb over his soft cheek, making him lean his face against your warm touch as you wiped the snow away from his skin. His breathing was slow, as if he was taking every breath he could before his last. 
With a shaky hand, you placed what's left of his heart back into their original place, your breathing becoming shaky as you held back your tears. It truly hurt you to see Renjun in this state, you knew he was on the brink of death. You didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if you had arrived much much later.
You pulled out the key to his heart from the inner pocket of your coat, leaning forward to press the key into his heart. But alas, his hand stopped you as he gently gripped your wrist and pulled it away from him. “No, I’m not too late. I’m not letting you die here, just let me turn the key,” you shook your head, blinking back the tears as you pushed your glasses up from the bridge of your nose. “I came back to save you, please just let me do this,” you pleaded, caressing his cheek with your thumb in a futile attempt to convince the love of your life to let you save him. 
“You came all the way back for me,” a tear streaked down Renjun’s cheek which froze under the cold atmosphere, sticking to his cheek. “That’s the most extraordinary turn you could ever give my heart,” he laughed slightly, half lidded eyes trying their best to stay open as his vision began to grow blurry and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was losing consciousness or if it was because of the tears he was holding back.
He tugged the key out of your hand before tossing it over the hill. “No, Renjun, what did you do?!” you panicked, your eyes growing wide at the key disappearing from your line of vision. “No, why did you do that?” you shook your head at him, pressing your body close to him as he leaned his back against the tree. “From now on, whatever happens to me,” Renjun spoke, giving you the same boyish smile he sent your way on your last day in Edinburgh two years ago. “I’ll only have myself to blame,” he sighed, intertwining your free hand with his icy cold one. 
“So now you can kiss me.” 
Your heart broke as you finally let your tears go, squeezing his hand tightly in yours as you sniffled. “As I said before, the things you do are absolutely inhumane,” you pushed your forehead against his, feeling your tears hit his wet clothes as you felt his other hand go to your jaw. “I’m just upset I never got to give you the painting I’d been working so hard on for all these years,” he chuckled, his eyes growing even more red as his tears streamed down his face like a leaking tap.
He caressed your jaw in his hand, eyes scanning your face one last time as he came with the fact that this was your last goodbye before he leaves for good. “If we were ever to be reborn again, I would still wish and pray for the gods to make you my first and last love,” he couldn’t help but laugh to stifle a sob that erupted from his throat. “And if we were ever to be reborn again, I hope you can always continue to smile like that until the day you close your eyes for good,” you nuzzled your forehead against his, sniffling hard. 
Thus with eyes clenched shut, you and Renjun pressed your lips together in unison for a passionate yet innocent kiss. You could hear the last strike of Renjun’s ticking clock, a loud ‘cuckoo’ piercing the quiet atmosphere as Renjun pulled you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your back and leaning his head to the side for a better angle. Your warm soft lips pressed onto his cold chapped ones, wet from the snow.  Your intertwined hands squeezing each other as you felt his mechanical heart put a ring on your own.
The next time Renjun opened his eyes, he was at the gates of heaven, standing in front of an actual angel with a bright expression on his face. “Huang Renjun, I assume?” the angel greeted, a soft smile spreading across their face as Renjun nodded. “You seem a bit too young to be up in heaven. Aren’t you just 18 years old?” the angel asked, pulling out a clipboard to look through Renjun’s life data. “I was almost nineteen, though,” Renjun shrugged, his wide smile never disappearing from his facial features.
“I’m so sorry you had to leave life so soon, young man,” the angel cooed, taking out a pen from their desk as they began to fill out Renjun’s form for his plans now that he’s in the afterlife. “Care to tell me what happened while I do the paperwork for you?” the angel asked, sticking their tongue out as they wrote Renjun’s life information on the glowing paper with a messy handwriting, reminding him of the postcard you had sent him less than a couple months ago. 
Renjun looked around the bright place he was in, sighing heavily as he stared up the gates of heaven with a content expression. He swiped his tongue over his pink lips as he finally felt his heart no longer empty, 
“I fell in love.” 
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a/n: i didn’t like how this turned out lmfao but oh well HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, HUANG RENJUN MWUAH
¤ taglist: @leetaeyonglover @lebrookestore @oifelixcmerebrou @vera-liscious @kunrengui @thats-a-jen-no-no
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neocatharsis · 3 years
Text
Ten on his new Represent capsule, grappling with creativity, and evading genre lines.
As Ten Lee - a vocalist and dancer in K-pop groups NCT (with whom he debuted in 2016) and Super M, and Chinese group WayV - is musing over his proclivity for partnering music or visual styles in a way that others deem strange, he veers off on a tangent. “Anything can be matched… except juice and coffee,” he says, suddenly. “Those two should never be.” Ten is infamously anti-fruit. It stems from a mistaken process of association in childhood where “I had the image of a spider and the image of fruit mixed up,” he laughs awkwardly, “so now whenever I put fruit in my mouth, I think there’s spiders in my mouth.”
Random abstractions such as this pepper his rapid-fire conversation, like small fireworks fizzing through the dark. Excitable, enthused and sharply alert, if Ten’s energy was visible it would be a shimmering mantle of gold and silver dust. As a dancer, he moves with a sinuous, controlled power that can shift from elegant to explosive on a single beat. As a visual artist, the Bangkok-born, multilingual 25-year-old recently added the title of designer to his growing list of achievements, launching an already sold out collaboration with the bespoke merch platform Represent.
Aptly, he named his collaboration “What is ??? THE ANSWERS”, for although being a chameleonic artist is one of Ten’s greatest strengths, the personality traits that enable this created within him question marks around how he saw himself fitting into the world. “People ask me, ‘What kind of music do you like?’ And I say, ‘I like R&B but hope it sounds rock’. And they’re like, ‘That doesn’t make sense’.” It was troubling to Ten that people began telling him who he was and how he should be, instead of accepting him as is.
In a recent Instagram Live, the myriad of Ten’s contrasts tumble forthwith. He’s the doting cat-dad. His inner emo, who loves rock music, shows off dried roses, with the stern, black, geometric lines of the large tattoo on his inner right arm sometimes visible. But he’s also delicate in a way, with his butterfly tattoo and hair lightly permed, who names daisies as his other favourite flower, and plays Fousheé’s breathy TikTok hit, 'Deep End'.
“Have you seen the image where I have my name in a cross in lots of different languages?” He pulls the image up on his phone. The design sits on his Represent long sleeve tee. “I was thinking [about this], like, what you’re saying... Ten has this luvvie flower side and a very ‘rawwrr!’ side. I’m always like, ‘Ten, what kind of person are you?’ I do ask myself that, too, because everything I like is so different [to the other].” He could have conceded, and reined himself in. He’s pushed back instead. “I thought, ‘I can be anything I want, I can be this in the morning and this at night. I can be any person I want to be’. And that’s what makes me comfortable and happy.”
On his Instagram, Polaroids feature scrawled messages, like “Don’t tell me what to do!” and “Whatever! I’ll do it my way”. The designs of his collaboration seek to challenge being boxed in by other people’s standards, thus limiting ourselves. The recurring symbol of a cross tipped with arrows is a nod to the Chinese letter for 10, but doubles as a plus sign. He’s added it to his Instagram, writing “TEN_+•10” in his bio. “A plus sign can mean that you’re adding on and growing.” He points to another version of the arrow-cross, one with short diagonal dashes between its points that symbolise light. It means, he says, “that I’m radiating. I’m burning, I’m active, I’m doubling myself.” He touches his forearm, where crowning his geometric tattoo is a blazing sun. “I have this, like, if you want to be the light, you have to burn. I relate to that.”
This isn’t to say Ten’s self-exploration is complete. While celebrating his strengths, the artwork also portrays parts of himself not yet conquered. He admits to being a chronic overthinker: “Even very small things that happen to me, I rethink a thousand times, and I get stressed out because of the things I do. Like, the main theme [here] is me overthinking but trying to find an answer even though it doesn’t have any answer.” Fittingly, spiral shapes dominate his designs, looming large amongst bright, bold shapes that evoke 80s Pop Art and graffiti, though Ten shies away from defining himself as “fully an artist, I’m not in the position to say things like that yet.”
“I’m still learning and trying new things. You learn by getting different elements from different people and I’m in that stage now.” He enjoys wandering the infinite halls of Instagram and Pinterest where he screenshots art that he likes, lost in the images, often for hours. He explains that he’s mostly influenced by whatever his current visual obsession is. “I’m interested in tattoos lately so my paintings look like tattoo designs. I’m that person who, when they see stuff, it goes into my brain and instantly comes out from my hands,” he laughs.
Ten’s introduction to art and design was through his mother, who believed music, art and sport were more important in a child’s development than traditional academia. “She didn’t care if I got an A* or not, just don’t get an F or a D,” he grins. Like any kid forced to do something, Ten railed against spending his weekends at art school. He attended but he didn’t draw. He befriended his teacher and other pupils and, as they worked, he chatted. “I was a very talkative kid! When I came to SM Entertainment (in 2013), I had a lot of my own time because my parents were in Thailand and I was alone. I had to absorb all the new culture and adapt to a new environment.’” When he felt surrounded by “negative energy”, he began drawing, enamoured with the space and freedom it offered because in art, as he often says, “there’s no right answer.”
There is, however, sometimes a middle ground. His goal was to make the Represent collection accessible to his diverse fanbase. “I wanted to make things that people can easily wear because it was my first project to make something with clothes and it’s a collab. If you go too far out, no one will get it. If you go too far back, people won’t reach for it. So finding the middle ground is important but that’s the hardest thing to do. If it’s my own project, I’ll be like, ‘I’m the president of this brand, I’m gonna make all the weird clothes that I can imagine!’”
He sought second opinions to ensure his designs landed the way he hoped. “I have a lot of good friends around me - my choreographer, (SHINee and Super M member) Taemin hyung, my manager. I randomly ask people I’m comfortable with and have known for a long time, like Mark (Lee, of NCT and Super M). Mark has the same kind of perspective as me, but I’m a person who is arrghhh!” He waves his hands in the air. “And he’s very calm. I need a person who is opposite of me because when I’m in a mood, I talk nonsense - ‘I wanna do this, I wanna do that, I wanna make this!’ - and Mark’s like,’Bro, calm down’,” he says in a rather uncanny impression of the Canadian-Korean.
Ten works fast when he’s drawing. He has to. He describes his personality as someone who can't wait until the next day to do something. “I’m very impatient,” he smiles. “If I’m going to paint or draw, I’m going to finish it in, like, two hours. I can’t sit down for three hours.” When inspiration hits him, it’s off the back of deep contemplation, sometimes about the mundane - “Like, why do the cats come to me when they’re hungry only? Is it selfish or instinct? - at other times, something affecting him emotionally.
But whereas his job as a singer and dancer sees him project his energy outwards, art offers the opposite. He’s often alone in his room when he works. As is for many artists, the right mood is fundamental. “When I’m in a good mood, I can’t draw,” he half-sighs. It’s also a multi-sensory process. “Smell or the temperature of the room, that really helps me draw. I light three or four candles. And when I draw, it’s kind of heavy, the feeling,” he explains. “It feels like you’re sinking into something, into yourself, and everything seems so small. Everything narrows down into me, my pencil, the paper.”
The more work he does in different creative mediums, the less Ten’s desire is to keep them separate. His art, dance and music influence each other, whether it’s customising his own collaboration pieces, a choreography video in an art gallery or dancing underwater with a film crew. When someone tells him that something won’t work or match up well, he refuses to let the idea go until he’s attempted it.
“I’ve had that since I was young. I think everything is possible. If you don’t try, you don’t know. When people say it’s impossible, like dancing in water for three minutes, I’m like, then let’s make it possible. You don’t need to walk a straight line [in life], you can walk this way,” Ten says, pointing along an invisible line before switching sharply in direction. “Then go back on track, go that way, come back. No one should tell you to walk in a line, I don’t see the point of that.”
© Clash Magazine
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ohnotoomanyfandoms · 4 years
Text
On Cordelia’s Persian heritage and how it relates to future Herondales
“If Cordelia’s skin is so dark, how come Jace is blond?” is a question I get at least a few times per day, so I decided to intervene. Many Jordelia shippers have come to the Help Desk wondering about this. Many Fairstairs shippers feel that Jace’s blond hair is the validation they need to prove their ship is canon - although I’m not sure how Jace Herondale’s hair in 2007 relates to who Matthew Fairchild married in 1904, but I digress. 
Anyhow, I get so many lovely questions like this one every day, both on here, on Twitter, on Instagram, and even among my friends (yes, I operate Jordelia Help Desk sessions in real life too). 
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Sit tight, kids, cause mama is about to give you a very sound explanation and put your minds at ease.
I understand the concern for Jordelia, I truly do. But I promise genetics and Jace’s looks are the only things we don’t need to worry about. I am going to give you two very separate answers to this question, both proving my point that Jordelia is endgame. 
1) The Scientific Answer: 
It’s been a few years since I aced AP Science, so forgive me for probably using improper genetic terms here, I might be oversimplifying things for the sake of this post. To put it bluntly, Cordelia and Alastair are mixed-race. They’re not white, they certainly wouldn’t be Black (I’ve seen some confusion about this too), they are Brown. However, they are the children of a Persian (Brown) woman and of a very white (English) man. 
What this means is that their genetic code is already 50% white. It may not show in their physical exterior, but it’s in their DNA. Their children - regardless of who Cordelia or Alastair may or may not marry - would be inheriting that genetic code that is already half Persian and half English. If Cordelia and Alastair and their Unborn Carstairs Baby Sibling stay in England and their hypothetical children and then their children keep marrying white people (for 3 more generations until The Mortal Instruments), there is actually very little part of Sona’s initial genetic code that is being transmitted by that point, and the more you go forward in time, the less likely it is that those genes would manifest outwardly in significantly dark skin. 
James and Cordelia’s babies (the found family tree tells us they have one son, you can do with this information what you will) have the potential for skin as dark as Cordelia’s, as pale as James’s, or something in between. But as we go on with the generations of marrying white people, the skin tone will become lighter and lighter. 
If you think that’s a load of scientific crap that you don’t trust coming from me, I will give you one other thing to hold on to when it comes to Herondale descendants: while Jace is in no way a person of color (he’s the whitest boy to ever walk this earth, and I mean that in the worst way possible), in later books Cassie has taken care to never describe him as pale, which could be a subtle nod to one of his ancestors being a Persian woman. In earlier TMI books - keep in mind that City of Bones was published in 2007 and written years before - Cassie had no idea who he would descend from, the thought simply had never occurred to her. Additionally, in super early concept drafts of The Last Hours now dating almost ten years ago, before the series even had a confirmed name, Cordelia was most certainly white. You can see this from the way she was described and also depicted in official artworks commissioned by Cassandra herself. 
Jace’s blond hair can come from literally any of the women who married a Herondale in the following three generations. We know from City of Ashes that Imogen’s greying hair was once blond. She passed it on to her son Stephen Herondale. Stephen married Celine Montclaire, who is also blonde: Jace’s blond hair therefore comes from his parents passing on predominantly blond genes to his DNA. That’s it. 
Now, on to my second answer.  
2) The Logic Answer 
I will prove that you’re all stressing over Jace Herondale for no reason with one very short sentence: Emma Carstairs is also white. 
In her case, we have absolutely no doubt who she’s descended from. She is a direct descendant of Sona. Whether Alastair decided to marry and have a child to carry on the Carstairs bloodline, or Unborn Baby Carstairs is a boy (which I think is the most likely option), Emma’s ancestors are undoubtedly Persian. We fully know there are no other relatives to carry on the Carstairs name at the time of The Last Hours (this issue arose in Clockwork Princess when Elias wanted to give Cortana to Will because Jem was dead and he had not married Sona yet).
So if Emma descends from one of Cordelia’s brothers, and you guys aren’t worried about HER being white and blond, I don’t see why you should worry about Jace being the same. 
3) BONUS - the @destinedtobemine​ Crack Theory answer
(Please know that we’re just being Fairondale clowns here.) Matthew is the biggest Herondale fanboy and upon marrying Lucie, he would take on the Herondale name. That’s how you get to Jace. (We’re truly joking. Jace has James’s eyes so we know he’s descended from him.)
Just kidding with that one, obviously. But you get my point: genetics = not at all against Jordelia being endgame. I hope this helped!
229 notes · View notes
thebrightsessions · 4 years
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Entertainment Spotlight: Alanna Fox
Alanna Fox voices the character of Rose in The Bright Sessions. Alanna has been performing since she was 6 years old. She graduated from New York University with a Bachelors of Music (concentration in Musical Theatre). After performing Off-Broadway, and traveling the Unites States on Tour, Alanna moved to Los Angeles to focus on TV/Film. Her TV credits include: Blackish, Grand Hotel, The Middle, General Hospital, Curb Your Enthusiasm, I’m Dying Up Here, and The Fosters. We got the chance to ask her a few questions about The Bright Sessions. Check it out:
Do you have any headcanons about Rose Atkinson?
I imagined that Rose drew what she saw in all her dream walks, and would tack her favorite drawings on her bedroom walls. She had so many that all her walls were covered in these memories/dreams.
What are you working on right now?
Sadly, the Coronavirus has halted all productions for the time being. I would have been filming my 2nd episode this month of a new Spy-thriller series called “Shifter,” but that will have to wait until life goes back to normal. For now, I’m doing lots of cooking, reading, and catching up on TV.
Do you have any secret skills or talents?
I can tap dance! I traveled the U.S. as Vicki, the Tap Dancing Mouse, in “Angelina Ballerina The Musical.” I am also a singer, but that might not be a secret, since The Bright Sessions musical episode is titled ROSE :)
What questions would you ask Dr. Bright if the roles were reversed?
A lot of the questions Rose would have had, are already answered in the podcast. But I would love to know if Dr. Bright thinks she truly helped everyone. With all the drama unfolding, a therapist might ask Dr. Bright if she thinks she ever hurt anyone more than she helped.
If you could take a masterclass on any subject, what would you learn and who would you want to teach you?
If I could bring someone back to life first, I would LOVE to take a cooking class with Julia Child. She was fearless and had so much pizazz. I bet I’d learn about more than just cooking! Then of course, I’d love to do an acting masterclass with Meryl Streep (who played Julia Child in Julie&Julia).
Can you share your favorite piece of fan art?
It’s so hard to pick just one! I am seriously so blown away by the incredible fan art. I did a whole social media post about it after the musical episode aired and shared TEN of my favorites. Here are a few of those favorites:
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By: thefigureinthecorner
Marcus really captures the essence of the characters in all his artwork.
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By: cagdigital
I love how this shows Rose in the daytime, as she yearns for the night to dream walk.
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By: lesbiantarajones
I feel like this is an album cover, and it was the cover to my instagram post of all the fanart because of that.
Thanks for taking the time, Alanna! Give Patient #14–A-8 (Rose), Session 2 a relisten right here.
2K notes · View notes
madame-mimsy · 3 years
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Theory Behind the Reward Tier Levels in Janus’ Corridor.
Has someone done this, already? Probably. But nothing says mental exhaustion like procrastinating on schoolwork by over analyzing the levels of tiers in Janus’ Corridor of Stored Rewards.
So with the release of the amazing art by James von Hollen (@ignoreitforever on Instagram) of each of the tiers (and the honestly delightfully terrifying images of Janus ripping through a wall like the Shining), I’ve had some thoughts on what the levels mean in relation to them because I am a Fander and we cannot leave well enough alone gdi.
See, at first I liked the idea going around that Janus was just giving tiers based on people he liked, as he’s stated that he prefers Remus over the others in livestreams. But the thing is, he obviously does NOT like Virgil, so that doesn’t quite fit to me. And the idea that it’s just giving preferential treatment to the Dark Sides made sense to me, until the new images came out and we had padlocks galore.
Instead, my theory is that each tier is based on how deep into the secrets he’s promised in his Corridor you go. The further along the more he WANTS to keep them secret, and thus the more money it takes, meta-wise, to pry those secrets loose, and why there is no Janus level tier. There’s no way he’d want to reveal everything he knows, no matter the amount. He (Janus) even got downright angry when people tried bugging him for spoilers in streams.
So instead he has the tiers listed by how willing he is to make that Side “public” or not. (Longwinded theory under the cut)
So first we have the Logan tier: the Federal Education Budget 
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Rewards: 
Scripts
Patron-Only Polls
Extended Videos
Monthly Livestreams
Exclusive Photos and BTS Content
Ad-Free Videos
From the Snake’s Own Mouth:
“Ohhh, so you decided to share with us? Then, I suppose I can share with you.”
Honestly, this startled me because of the fact that it looks so arcane and mystical, which doesn’t match how I imagine Logan at all. My friend @onnastik​ pointed out that the creature on the right, surrounded by sigils, is the demon Baur, who among other things is said to “teach natural and moral philosophy, (and) logic...” which fits the bill pretty perfectly. 
Speaking of a bill, the name for the tier fits Logan perfectly, too, to me. The Federal Education Budget is not only the budget used in the American system to make sure kids have free education until the highschool level, but is also part of the college loan system. It signifies public education, and that’s why I feel that Logan is the lowest, and thus most accessible, tier. Janus considers him bland, safe for public consumption, and maybe even wants to put up a front of logical intelligence first and foremost, to make even the broadest view of Thomas seem as intelligent as possible. 
And look at how much the basic tier gives! That’s a huge amount for just the lowest tier, and gives you plenty to enjoy. That fits the ideal of something like a broad education system, and gives a very open feel. Logan’s tier is literally an “Open Book” of all sorts of delights.
And with that horrible pun, we move to Patton’s tier:  The Monthly Allowance.
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Rewards:
10% Merch Discount
Members Only Sticker
Bonus Videos
Directors' Commentary
Bloopers
Ad-Free Videos
Exclusive Photos and BTS Content
Monthly Livestreams
Extended Videos
Patron-Only Polls
Scripts
Your Name In The Credits!
Exclusive Sticker
From the Snake’s Own Mouth:
“That not enough for you? Fine. I'll give you everything from that last tier, PLUS...”
For all that it is creepy as heck, the fact that Patton’s tier is also a pun is perfect. The candles heat must surely make this... heartwarming. And the addition of blooper reels in the rewards, and the commentary, feel more personal than Logan’s open tier. Which is why I don’t think Patton was the first tier.
Patton wears his heart on his sleeve too much for Janus’ tastes, I bet. All of those emotions just out there where anyone could see? Those bloopers that showcase how imperfect Thomas and the crew are? Yikes. That is definitely something a certain snek wouldn’t want to be the most public option, though, at the same time, Patton’s gentle qualities and general love of the fandom also mean he’s a good symbol to push closer to the front of the Corridor, and doesn’t need to be as hidden as some of the others.
Also the fact that Patton’s tier has a sticker as a reward is absolutely perfect and you can’t tell me otherwise. Can’t you just imagine him going “Thank you so much, kiddo! Let’s watch some bloopers and play with sticker books! I’ll get the cocoa”? He’s the good goofy dad and stickers are fun. Bloopers and being silly are fun. It’s perfect for the sweet lad.
Then we have the illustrious Roman’s tier: A Prince’s Ransom.
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Rewards:
Members Only Sticker
Your Name In The Credits As A Writer!
Never-Before-Released Janus Tee for First 1,000 Patrons
Scripts
15% Merch discount
Patron-Only Polls
Extended Videos
Monthly Livestreams
Exclusive Photos and BTS Content
Join The Writer's Room
Ad-Free Videos
Bloopers
Directors' Commentary
Bonus Videos
Exclusive Sticker
From the Snake’s Own Mouth:
“You want more? Really?? … You can only half tell, but I’m blushing over the fact that we’re worth this much to you. How about, everything in that last tier AND...”
Hooo boi there’s suddenly a lot more to unpack here. This is in no way an insult to the lovely Crew as a whole, but doesn’t it feel like this tier has more bribery going on than the last two? More self-centered reasons to join? It’s not just your name in the credits like Patton offered: it’s your name as a writer. That T-shirt (which I 100% leaped at when I saw this because holy heck it’s so pretty), and of course the mysterious Writer’s Room.
This tier feels very creative as well: look at all the stuff about influencing the show, the art of the shirt, etc. This is all about being showy and creative like our wonderful prince. But it’s not the first tier, even though Thomas is very much a creator. Why? Why is the tier for the showiest, flashiest Side just randomly tucked in the middle, not even the highest for show?
Because Janus doesn’t want Roman to be the first thing everyone sees. Our sweet boy is definitely eye-catching, but he can also be vain to the point of pompous, even annoying. And his fragile ego isn’t something that Janus likely wants to show off. Janus’ statement about “blushing” and “being worth that much to you” even feels like it matches that pride and ego. 
And that fragility is in the crown’s design, too. At first glance it seems fine. Very fantastic, with Roman’s sun symbol in lovely display. But a longer look reveals cracks, broken sections and fissures. And a slight, odd green shine, too. Hmm.
No, Roman couldn’t be made the first tier because of his pride, but his is also the last tier to not have any outright locks on it...
The Strange Dark Son’s tier: OK, Now You’re Making Me Feel Guilty...
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Rewards:
Monthly Livestreams
Your Name In The Credits As A Writer!
Personalized Thank You Video
Never-Before-Released Janus Tee for First 1,000 Patrons
Scripts
Member's Mug
15% Merch discount
Patron-Only Polls
Extended Videos
Exclusive Photos and BTS Content
Join The Writer's Room
Ad-Free Videos
Bloopers
Directors' Commentary
Bonus Videos
Members Only Sticker
Exclusive Mug
Exclusive Sticker
From the Snake’s Own Mouth:
“PLEASE, don’t give us any more money! I don’t know what we could possibly do with it! But alright… since I like you, you can have everything in the last tier, and I'LL THROW IN...”
“Now you’re making me feel guilty” is absolutely what I would expect Virgil to think about someone giving him money because they enjoyed Thomas’ content. He’d freak out, and want to make sure to do something equally nice in return, to say thank you. Hence the thank-you video. 
NGL I can also imagine him panicking and rushing around his room to pick up a random mug and just thrust it out at the gifter in return too, before hiding away in an anxious mess, but anyway. xD
The artwork for this seems to very much be in homage to the Annabelle Doll: a supposedly haunted ragdoll, kept locked in a case at an occult museum.
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Something interesting about this doll’s story, though...
Wiki: “According to the Warrens, a student nurse was given the doll in 1970. They said that the doll behaved strangely, and that a psychic medium told the student that the doll was inhabited by the spirit of a deceased girl named "Annabelle". The student and her roommate tried to accept and nurture the spirit-possessed doll, but the doll reportedly exhibited malicious and frightening behavior.”
Huh. Who else do we know that when confronted with too much coddling responds by lashing out?
And this is the first tier with a lock. The glass is chipped (from inside or out?) but the lock is holding. The doll is inert and doesn’t seem likely to do anything unless disturbed, if it matches the original story. Which seems to fit Virgil relatively well. Sure, he’ll make you anxious (maybe those cracks are where the influence leeches free), but doesn’t seem intent on outright harm. Also the cracks and the creepy living doll cabinet as a whole made me think of spider webs and our boi’s Halloween decor, so I thought that was excellent, honestly.
This tier is hidden behind Roman’s shining pomp. It’s outright locked away, as if to keep it from seeing the light of day. The Dark Side tiers both seem this way: hidden from prying eyes by the splendor of the first few tiers.
And the most hidden one of all... Gross Profit.
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Rewards:
Members Only Sticker
Bonus Videos
Directors' Commentary
Bloopers
Ad-Free Videos
Join The Writer's Room
Surprise Gifts At Least Twice A Year
Exclusive Photos and BTS Content
Monthly Livestreams
Extended Videos
Patron-Only Polls
15% Merch discount
Member's Mug
Scripts
Never-Before-Released Janus Tee for First 1,000 Patrons
Annual Video Call
Personalized Thank You Video
Your Name In The Credits As A Writer!
Exclusive Mug
Exclusive Sticker
From the Snake’s Own Mouth:
“Oh you bougie rascal, you! Your generosity is seen and I truly thank you for it… but a few kind words from me aren't enough, I'm sure... so how about, you get everything from the last tier ALONG WITH...”
Firstly we have exclusive tier level gifts that Janus won’t even reveal. Meta-wise, this is likely more because the team has to decide what those gifts ARE, and how to safely ship them, but the way it sounds in the description not only feels super secretive, but also very much like Remus to me, as well. I’m pretty sure any and all gifts from him are a surprise in some way. Whether that is pleasant is debatable, but it’s still a surprise!
The highest tier also looks to have the highest security. Look at that sturdy, metal bound chest and huge padlock. Not only that but it also has chains wrapped around it to hold it shut, and even then, the contents are actively seeking to escape, like our delightful trashman would. Even the shuggoth-like appearance matches his presence as a shifting, terrifying and likely quite gloopy entity, capable of squeezing even where he’s not wanted.  Even the green fabric below looks stained with mud or blood or something equally as upsetting. The image does a great job of showing how hard it is to contain Intrusive Thoughts, as a whole, and is likely a main reason Janus drinks so much “juice” on his birthdays. 
Unlike the last image, this one is outright trying to break containment, and oddly, it almost seems like someone left a golden key in easy reach for just that purpose... A key which also looks rather oddly shaped, to me.
It’s hard to tell from the angle, but it doesn’t look like the eye is a simple circle, but that it has a point, like a heart almost. Or even the ornate letter D from the Corridor logo?
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I can’t be sure of that, but what I can definitely be sure of is the sheer amount of lock, key, and chain symbolism our Snekky Fren has to his name.
While Janus has no tier, the entire SITE has his symbol, like a brand. 
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Every post, the icon, the about page, it’s there. And the snake isn’t trapped by the lock, but guarding it. It looks to have a green highlight around where a chip is (hmm), but other than that, it looks quite solid, and well-guarded by watchful creatures that never blink.
The shape of the lock looks like it could be heart-shaped as well, like that golden key allowing the Remus tentacles to wriggle free.
They also do a heckin blep and honestly what could possibly be better? 
So yeah, that’s my way overly long ramble about the tier levels and what I think they mean. Maybe if I’m not too lazy I’ll do one on the pictures of Janus playing peekaboo with my nightmares on the about page. 
God but this art is amazing and y’all need to go preesh the artist holy heck. 
104 notes · View notes
serene-victory-77 · 3 years
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Sweets Soothe The Heart
Hey, this is my piece for the Grishaverse Reverse Mini Bang 2021, organized of course by @grishaversebigbang! 
I worked with @ciph3rrr, who came up with the idea of exploring a sweet-loving Kaz, and you can see her artwork here on Tumblr or here on Instagram!
Summary: A new hideout entails finding a little comfort and learning more about each other. But it can also highlight how certain parts of other people's lives are still a mystery. Inej goes on a perhaps silly, but genuine, quest to find out what Kaz likes to eat.
Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32941690
Fic Under Cut:
When they’d first taken on the new hideout, they’d quickly rolled up their sleeves to make it more habitable, something to enjoy rather than just tolerate. It had been a joint effort (well, Kaz said his contribution was finding the place) to make the series of underground tunnels and rooms nice, but they made it work.
Even freelance robbers needed those little homely touches.
Nina specifically had made it her business to find everyone’s comfort food and fill their “cabinets” (it was crates stacked on each other with the open side facing forward, like large cubbies), going out to find candies, pastries, quick meals, anything to make it feel more like well-off college students rather than a den of thieves lying low.
That made Inej think, because all of them had some comfort food, right? The obvious was waffles, but they all had their individual favorites.
Nearly, that is. They all scratched their heads when it came to Kaz. 
Before the new hideout, Kaz hardly even ate in front of them, never mind indulged in sweets. Whenever they ordered food, he’d ask to get whatever Inej or Jesper ordered, and he never complained. Inej was sure her blueberry waffles weren’t his thing though.
He only drank coffee, hard alcohol, or water. He never seemed to savor or favor any food.
Nina had given up on bothering Kaz, but it stuck with Inej.
She was with him all the time. If anyone would know what Kaz’s favorite food was, it was her, right? But she was just as lost as everyone.
What did Kaz like to eat?
She started watching him whenever food was involved, trying to pick up on his tells. The first time it worked was when Nina said he couldn’t order water from a diner and decided to get him whatever Inej ordered. She picked a chocolate milkshake, and she swore he perked up just a bit.
Inej tried other cold sweets, but nothing caught his attention until Nina said she was getting them all ice cream. Inej was going to ask for a scoop of chocolate, noticed Kaz’s interest pique again because he’d once again chosen to get whatever she was, and got Kerch chocolate and chocolate with brownies.
Later, before anyone had finished their cup, she noticed Kaz had already set his aside, the ice cream gone.
Nina asked her to phone in the waffles that night because she had to help Mathias. Inej considered what she was about to do and figured that they were all eating separately, so it should be fine. 
Kaz opened the box and raised a brow. “This isn’t your usual order?”
“You don’t mind, do you?”
Kaz shrugged, but when Inej looked up 10 minutes later, the chocolate chip waffles she’d gotten him were nearly gone. It was surprising, because Kaz usually only ate half his food or forgot it for hours. She smiled.
There were a lot more chocolate treats in the house now, but they kept disappearing. Everyone but Kaz, who never participated in food talk, swore up and down it wasn’t them, but Inej knew. 
Kaz’s favorite thing to eat was chocolate, sweet as can be.
Jesper noticed Inej’s efforts and talked to her about it when the weather turned chilly. He was amused by Kaz’s leanings, but struck gold when he paused and said, “Inej, do you think he’d like hot chocolate?”
Jesper was a genius.
When protection against the cold was put in place and they had wood stoves aplenty, everyone enjoyed the newfound coziness.
“Kaz,” Inej called out near a stove in the kitchen area. “Come here!”
A few seconds later he was in the room, wearing one of the large gray pullovers she and Nina had bought. His limp had been better since they fixed the heating.
“What?” he asked, coming to stand next to her.
“Help me make hot chocolate. Keep an eye on the pot so it doesn’t bubble over,”
He blinked in a manner she could only describe as vaguely doe-eyed and she mentally thanked Jesper. “We have hot chocolate?”
She nodded, smiling up at him, and he turned his face away a bit, a smile playing on his lips.
The relocation had done a lot for her and Kaz, simply because he was a lot more relaxed. Guarded still, but with a new sense of domesticity. It helped that he basically let her do whatever she wanted, even in his space.
Plus he had definitely noticed her trying to make eating actually enjoyable and was trying to be helpful about it. He asked her how she was every morning, and if there was anything she requested or mildly implied was wrong, he’d acquire it or fix whatever she needed. It was nice.
Inej set out the ingredients and toppings as the milk heated, which he kept an eye on. She handed him the chocolate to add as he saw fit, and immediately half the bar was in the pot.
He noticed the whipped cream and his expression lit up. “We have whip cream?”
“You like it?” she asked.
There was a small pause before he nodded. “It was always my favorite, hot chocolate with whip cream.
Finally, an admission.
“That sounds nice,” Inej said. “So you’ll have yours with whip cream. We have large mugs, you’ll be able to put a lot on top,”
Kaz hummed. “How do you take your hot chocolate?”
“I like adding cinnamon,”
He chuckled. “You love cinnamon,”
“What do you mean?”
“You get cinnamon in everything. Cinnamon rolls, churros, in your coffee, you add it to the batter when you make pancakes,” Kaz said, stirring as she added sugar to the pot. “Like how you add extra pepper to everything,”
She didn’t hide her smile. “Paying attention?”
“It’s only fair,”
“I suppose,” she said, softly knocking against his arm. He didn’t move away, just glanced at her, mildly amused.
Later, to check the taste, she brought a small spoonful to Kaz’s mouth. He obliged her, albeit surprised. His eyes lit up in a way he couldn’t hide at the taste. It was officially Kaz Brekker Approved.
When the toppings were set in the den for everyone to pick from, the giant mountain of whip cream already on Kaz’s mug didn’t go unnoticed. Matthias raised a confused brow but slowly pushed the whip cream bottle closer to Kaz, to everyone’s amusement.
Wylan mostly just appreciated that Kaz managed to get the mountain so tall.
Kaz seemed to be paying Inej back in his own way, like buying her two new knives and making an effort to get the food he liked himself so she was no longer organizing it as much. In addition, if she asked him to accompany her out, he’d nod, fix them up with warm drinks to take with them, and head out alongside her. She appreciated it.
She’d read once that sweets soothe the heart. Apparently, sweets soothed Kaz’s prickly temper and made him more amicable to suggestions. 
They were walking around the town after finishing casing an art gallery when she spotted a notice on a newly opened cafe. Kaz paused when he realized she wasn’t matching his step because she’d taken out her phone to take a picture of the information that had caught her eye.
“What was that about?” he asked as she caught up.
“Oh, I just saw something Nina might know about. I go to her with questions about food usually,” Inej explained.
Kaz seemed fine with that and they went on their way.
The owners of this establishment, Harrie and Mert Stokker, are certified winners in the National Kerch Baking Competition. Particularly renowned are their pies, their brownies, and their Triple Chocolate Threat cake.
At first, she didn't know what to do with the information. It would have been simple to just buy some pastries and take them to the bunker, but she wanted to do more.
But what?
Then Kaz said that a nice Suli restaurant had opened a town over, which was a shock, and asked if she wanted to eat there with him. She’d agreed, overjoyed at the rare opportunity, and he’d reserved them a table.
Then it clicked. But how could she reserve a cafe? Especially at a newly opened one with famous owners when they were supposed to be laying low?
The next morning she was at the cake asking Mr. and Mr.s Stokker for a favor.
“I tend not to complain about early starts,” Kaz started, blinking up at the still gray skies. “But it’s freezing, and you don’t usually head out this early. Is something wrong?”
She shook her head, and her scarf slipped. Kaz paused to adjust it over her mouth and nose again, and she smiled although he couldn’t see it. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise,”
He raised a brow but trusted her as she led them down the quaint street.
When they reached the cafe, Inej knocked on the door.
A few seconds later it opened, and they were ushered in by Mrs. Stokker.
“Hello!” She greeted cheerfully. “You must be Asha’s companion. Mikka, was it? I’m Harrie Stokker, and this is my husband, Mert,”
Kaz glanced at Inej, noting the fake names she’d given. 
He smiled all the same and shook their hands, his gloved. “Yes, it’s Mikka. It’s a pleasure to meet you, but I don’t know why I’m here,”
The Stokkers smiled and nodded at Inej to explain.
“Nearly two months ago I noticed this place was opening and when I saw the information, it said they had really good chocolate cake,” Inej explained. “We’re busy and you don’t like crowds, and there was no way this place wasn’t going to be full every day. I wanted you to be able to eat here though, so I stopped by and did a few favors for them, and they agreed to let us come in extra early this morning, and even push back their opening hours today,”
Kaz turned from the Stokkers to her, incredulous. “Two months? I should have noticed,”
“It was always early, so you’d have just headed to bed. And it was only a few days overall,” she explained.
Kaz shook his head slowly. “In—Asha. You didn’t have to,”
Inej sighed. “You’ve only recently started eating things that are actually good, and your favorite is chocolate. They Stokkers are incredible bakers, and this seemed like a great opportunity,”
“Asha said that you’ve hardly eaten anything sweet in years,” Mr. Stokker shook his head. “And that you’ve never had much of a chance to eat good baking before. It was a shame, so we agreed to this. We’re hoping we can rekindle your love for eating. Chocolate is the best for mood and temper, and any baker with a heart will tell you that cake is a way of life. We had to help,”
Kaz was clearly trying to keep a straight face, and Inej could relate. The Stokkers talked about baking like it was their religion, passionate and oddly deep.
They’re given a table by a window that caught the first few rays of pale sunlight, and they shed their extra layers in the comfort of the warm cafe.
“You somehow managed to get an empty cafe,” Kaz noted, impressed. “Have I ever told you that you’re a wonder?”
“A few times, but it’s nice to hear,” Inej smiled. “They have drinks too. I’ve heard their hot chocolate is amazing,”
Kaz smiled, then leaned back in his chair. “Tell me, why are you so determined? It’s kind, but you truly didn’t have to.
Inej fidgeted but her sleeve. “At first I just wanted you to participate in the comfort food thing. Then I was confused, because I’ve known you for years, and somehow I didn’t know what you liked to eat? I had hunches, but nothing concrete. Then I noticed you liked chocolate and sweets, and I thought, alright, this works. I was happy that you actually seemed to enjoy eating, rather than just doing it because you have to,” she admitted. “Plus, you light up when you have chocolate,”
“I do not,”
“You do,”
Kaz crossed his arms, but there was no bite in the action. He tried to stay straight-faced, but Inej had always been good at making him smile.
After a moment, she added, “And you’re a lot less snappy after you’ve had chocolate,”
Kaz rolled his eyes but knew she was right.
“I didn’t think it needed to change,” he said. “But you were right when you said it wasn’t going to make me less prepared in the future to relax and participate. And…”
“Hm?”
He shrugged, a tad defensive. “You’re happier, whenever I participate. So it’s worth it for that,”
She’s saved from having to react with anything more than a blush by Mrs. Stokker setting down their drinks, which Inej had specified the day before. Of course, Kaz got a large mug of hot chocolate with whip cream.
Inej’s own mug had cinnamon and she enjoyed the smell as she watched Kaz use a spoon to drink his because he didn’t want to ruin the whipped cream too quickly.
A few minutes later they had actual breakfast food to Kaz’s confusion.
“Before sweets, normal food,” Inej said, relieved that Kaz easily ate the bagel with cream cheese and chopped up melon with ease as she’d expected.
The sunrise had truly begun then, and he was bathed in warm light by the time they got to the cake.
It really was chocolate on more chocolate, and Kaz looked startled by it. Still, he took off the pointed edge of the large slice and tried it.
A few seconds later he put the fork down.
“I think I’m kicking out Matthias and replacing him with this cake,” he said mildly. “You asked if I had a god. This is it. I believe in this cake,”
Of course, Kaz would turn his shock into snark.
Still, she was happy.
“Have you tried it?” Kaz asked.
“No,” Inej admitted. “I wanted to wait until you did,”
Kaz urged her to eat her slice.
She tried a bite.
It was perfect. Not heavy, nor too light, strong but not overbearing. It left her wanting to take another bite immediately, and she did, marveling at Kaz’s restraint
“It’s so good,” Inej said, swallowing. “Saints. Nina’s going to kill us for not sharing,”
“At least we ate it before dying,” Kaz said, finally continuing to eat. “You two wanted to know my favorite food? This. Everything should just be this,”
He seemed proud when Inej laughed.
The rest of the time was relatively calm.
Maybe it had been silly for her to fixate on finding food Kaz liked, but finding herself on what was essentially a breakfast date with Kaz made it hard to regret. Plus, she’d learned that Kaz paid attention to her likes as well. And she wouldn’t give back the hours they’d spent eating dinner in his room alone, either.
He had a small, happy smile as he ate. When he looked up at her, the warmth in his coffee eyes startled her.
She sat back and basked in it.
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