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a-yellow-van · 5 months

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Wish You Were Here | Part 1

We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

20 years after the outbreak, you’re a stable, well established member in the community of Jackson, Wyoming. You have been for a long time now, the horrors, the brutality of survival buried deep inside, leaving place to the safe simplicity of routine. You didn’t think there’s anything that could disturb that, after all you’ve been through. That is, until you meet Joel Miller, and a drunken choice leads to…much more. Set in between Part I and Part II. Canon compliant (I'm breaking my own heart)

Series masterlist

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Fanfic tags : canon compliant, slow burn, romance, eventual smut, angst, hurt/comfort, joel and the reader are terrible at feelings, female reader, no use of y/n, reader is in early 30s, past relationships, trauma/PTSD, grief, loss, post-apocalypse, joel is a good parent to ellie, major character death, original characters, queer characters, bisexual main character, age difference, canon-typical violence

WC for Part 1 : 4.5 k

Warnings for Part 1 : drinking, swearing, implied sexual content

New Year’s Eve 2034. Jackson’s tavern is packed to the brim, people in every corner of the room, almost shoulder to shoulder. It’s hot and humid inside; layers have been shed, revealing patches of sticky skin. A musky, sickly sweet smell assaults your nose : a mix of sweat, booze and dust, making you nostalgic for a time you never knew, before the world fell apart. The windows are fogged up, blocking out the view of snow falling peacefully, coating the street. You’ve rarely seen anything like it. Nearly every adult survivor in the community has seemingly decided to come out tonight, and the fact that Eugene has finally dipped into his batch of mead, home brewed by the barrel, is most certainly to blame. Maria, Jackson’s leader, doesn’t exactly approve, but she’s making an exception. Just for the holiday. You spot her at the back; she’s holding hands with Tommy, her husband, protectively watching over the crowd. Eugene’s feeling particularly generous this evening; he offers a hefty bottle to whoever asks, reminding each lucky recipient to “savour ‘cause she’s been fermenting since July!” You must have heard that sentence a good twenty five times since you got your own bottle, the words getting progressively less intelligible as Eugene indulges in his creation. You’re still not certain why he refers to his mead like it is a woman, and frankly, you’re afraid to find out. One thing’s for sure, the beverage is incredibly strong, has a horrid taste, burning your throat like acid with every drop. It’s questionably safe for consumption, but the occasions to get shitfaced in the midst of an apocalypse are quite limited, so you endure. Even Jackson’s most reclusive members agree with that notion. Including him. Joel Miller. He’s nursing a drink at a table near the bar, opposite to the one you’re sharing with your usual group. You wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but they’re fellow patrollers, close to you in age, so, naturally, you’ve grown familiar.

“What are you looking at?” Max, the one you’ve known the longest, nudges you with their elbow.

Your gaze quickly snaps back to meet theirs. You realise you’ve been staring at the older man. Noticeably. You don’t quite know why. Maybe he intrigues you, all quiet and pensive in the middle of a rowdy celebration. His expression is hard to read, but there’s a hint of…sadness? You get a hold of yourself and brush off the thought.

“Nothing,” you lie. Max cocks an eyebrow, a little grin forms on their lips, freckled cheeks dimple.

“Uh-huh.” There’s a glint of malice in their green eyes. “You sure? No one particular caught your attention?”

You don’t let their teasing get to you. “Nah. Just checking at Seth trying to hit on Leanne,” you reply without missing a beat, “for the millionth time.” This one isn’t a lie, as the scene really is unfolding a few metres away. You blink at Max, feigning innocence. They narrow their eyes, not buying it.

“Man, when is he gonna get the hint?” Fred chips in, breaking the unspoken exchange between you and Max. She quickly peeks in the direction of the duo, a muscly arm propped on the back of her chair, long cornrows draped across the other shoulder. She scoffs, and takes a swig of her drink. “She looks like she’s seconds away from kicking him in the balls.”

“Don’t know how she hasn’t done that, like, years ago.” It’s Astrid’s turn to talk. She sighs, shaking her head, her wavy golden blonde hair rustling with the movement.

“Maybe you should go beat him up for her, A,” Fred jokingly suggests. “Bet she’d like that.”

“Don’t give me ideas,” Astrid responds, seriously. “I’d have him in a wheelchair for the rest of his days.”

“Oh, yeah. And then you and Leanne would run off into the sunset,” Max adds, taking their attention off you, finally. They start screeching in a horrible, high-pitched voice. “Oh, Astrid! Oh, thank you! You saved me from the big, bad man! I lo-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Astrid cuts them off, cheeks reddening.

“Hmm. I think they hit a little nerve there, A,” Fred continues, laughing, moving her arm to playfully put it around a flustered Astrid. She’s too easy, you think. It’s pretty endearing.

“Who are you kidding,” you join in Astrid’s torment. “You can’t even say hi to Leanne without stuttering.” The woman gets even redder, the angry tint reaching her pale neck. Fred and Max giggle. “You’re such a teenager,” Max strikes.

“Just fucking drink.” Astrid commands the three of you, pouring the group another round.

“Fair enough,” Max says, before clinking glasses with Fred in front of them. Astrid finishes hers in one gulp, which makes her cough, while you sip slowly. The buzz is setting in. It’s nice. It eases the burden on your aching shoulders.

You let your companions carry the conversation as the night progresses, occasionally humming or laughing at a remark. You’re not exactly concentrating. You keep getting drawn back to Joel Miller, for some reason. He arrived in Jackson last summer, about six months ago. Him and a kid, a girl, around fourteen or fifteen. You assumed that was his daughter, but soon learned that you were wrong. People talk, especially in such a small community. Something about Joel smuggling her across the country for the fireflies? A failed operation, clearly. You heard the organisation disbanded since then. It was about time. You’re surprised they lasted that long in the first place. He’s Tommy’s older brother. There’s history there, you know some of it; Joel already had a bit of a reputation before ever passing through Jackson’s gates. He hasn’t done much to help it since then; he barely interacts with anyone besides Tommy and Ellie, the girl. He keeps to himself, brooding, silently observing, tough, cold, detached. That’s how Joel’s treated you on the few patrols you’ve had to go on together these past months. He usually works with Tommy, you usually work with Max, but Maria likes to switch around the schedule occasionally to test out different pairings. You and Joel have done a very efficient job, only speaking when absolutely necessary, technical terms only, mumbling salutations. However, on the last patrol, in early December, you made a great shot at a stalker, and you could have sworn Joel’s mouth twitched in approval. It was so short it might have been a product of your imagination, but then, after coming back to Jackson and bringing your horses to the stable, he mumbled your last name instead of his usual grunt goodbye. It’s fair to assume there’s mutual respect for each other’s skill there. Nothing else. So then, why does your gaze keep returning to his tousled, greying curls, scruffy beard, piercing brown eyes, and the scar on his left temple? Maybe it’s the alcohol. Yeah, that must be it-

Joel’s eyes suddenly lock with yours. Your heart skips a beat, making you choke on your drink. Shit. What the hell was that? Fred immediately interrupts the story she’s telling and you feel three pairs of eyes on you. You clear your throat, looking down at the table.

“Sorry. Went down the wrong pipe,” you mutter. They keep staring. “Uh, Fred, what were you-”

And then, as if the universe takes pity on you, Mike, Jackson’s butcher, jovial fellow in his early sixties (but barely a wrinkle creasing his dark skin) claps loudly and calls out over the incessant chatter.

“How about some music, huh?” A few supporters acclaim him. He pushes through the crowd, reaching the old console piano standing at the south wall, underneath a window. Around, some tables have been stored away, allowing some space for dancing. The instrument is in poor shape, the keys are yellowed, a pedal has fallen off. Mike sits on the worn piano bench. Most survivors in the tavern have momentarily lowered their volume, following the man’s moves. He tries a little riff. Not as bad as was expected, just slightly off tune. You know he’ll make it work. “Alright. Get ready to groove, everyone!” He plays the intro to Johnny B. Goode by Chuck Berry perfectly, earning cheers and applause. Chair legs scrape on the ground, glasses and bottles are snatched up as the crowd converge around Mike.

“Woo! Come on!” Fred exclaims. She stands and takes Astrid’s arm, forcing her patrol partner up. Astrid resists, but just for the principle, a beaming smile on her face. The pair leaves, already bobbing their heads to the rhythm. Max takes another shot before shuffling away from the table on legs rendered wobbly by the booze. They hold their hand out to you, but you don’t take it yet. You dare look over at a certain someone again, who is grounded in his seat, indifferent to the change of mood. Max wiggles their fingers impatiently.

“I’ll, uh- I’ll join you later,” you say, averting their eyes.

“Ugh. Fine. You suck,” they reply.

You raise your middle finger in response. They turn away abruptly, flashing the back of their frayed jean vest, the sleeves cut off by hand. Max catches up with Astrid and Joey, and you watch as they start dancing, snorting at how uncoordinated the three are. You’ve downed a good five drinks now. One more won’t do any harm, right? You fill up your glass with the last drops of mead from the current bottle. Warmth spreads through your veins, making your head throb in a pleasant way. Your eyelids are heavy, your surroundings blurred. Something is clear, though. You and Joel are amongst the very few survivors that aren’t taking part in the fun. Hell, even Maria’s letting her husband spin her around.

And then it happens again. Joel meets your gaze. But this time, he holds it for a couple of seconds, before looking to the side and rubbing his chin. Almost like he’s doing it on purpose. You must be drunker than you thought, because that makes no fucking sense. And what your clouded brain makes you do next is even less logical. Slowly, you rise, and walk unsteadily to the now deserted bar, heading towards Joel. Your heart picks up its pace. This is so stupid . You sit down at one of the stools, just a few feet away from him. You lean over the counter, resting your head in your hand, staring straight ahead at the row of vintage bottles aligned on a shelf behind the bar. On the piano, Mike has moved on to I’m Still Standing by Elton John, his voice strong, smooth. You catch a glimpse of Joel in your peripheral. He’s tensed up ever so slightly, his back straightened. He’s aware of your presence. This is so stupid.

“Hey, Miller,” you hear yourself speak, still looking ahead, but loud enough he can hear you.

He sighs. That’s something. He hasn’t gotten up and walked away, he hasn’t told you to get lost. He’s acknowledged you. It’s full of irritation, sure, but it gives you enough motivation to keep going.

“Not a fan of the music?” You attempt a sultry tone and make yourself cringe. Great start. Joel grunts, takes a swig of mead and crosses a leg over the other, nonchalant.

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly peg this as your scene,” you continue, gesturing vaguely at the crowd. The booze has taken the reins, and you can’t hold your tongue.

A full minute passes in silence. You’re about to give up. And then Joel talks, gruff, sarcastic, the inebriation accentuating the southern drawl in his voice. “Right. And like you’d know, of all people.”

A sentence. Joel Miller just spoke a full sentence to you. You’re stunned.

“Fair point,” you recover after a few seconds. “You just, uh, don’t really seem like the social type.” A pause. You feel Joel’s gaze burning the back of your neck. “No offence,” you add.

“None taken.” Joel downs the rest of his drink, exhales. “You’re not dancin’ either,” he observes.

“Perceptive,” you retort. You spin on your stool, now facing him. A corner of his mouth curves upwards almost imperceptibly. It goes back down immediately, but you caught it. And it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve made the grumpy bastard smile, or, well, the closest to it he can probably manage.

“Why not?” he questions. “Your friends looks like they’re havin’ fun.” He nods his chin over at Max, who’s gone up to the piano and is belting the lyrics to the song, stomping their feet, while Mike plays the melody. Two things : first, Joel knows who you hang out with, which means he’s not completely oblivious to who you are, and second, he’s making conversation with you. Astonishing.

“Guess I’d rather be bothering you.” You shrug, trying to suppress a smile. “Thought you’d have cursed me out by now, if I’m honest.”

Joel scratches his forehead. “Dunno why I haven’t,” he mumbles.

“Maybe you should.” Did you really just say that? Did you just try to flirt with him? And why did his gaze flicker to your lips?

He looks back up and narrows his eyes at you. “Nah. You don’t want that.”

You don’t miss a beat. “Hey, I could take it.” You’re maintaining eye contact from your seat at the bar. “I’m tough.” Well, this is happening. Damn Eugene and his mead .

The ever-so-subtle smirk passes over Joel’s face for the second time. He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna make you cry.”

“Hm. How considerate,” you reply, unable to fight a little smile. Joel emits a short, low, rumbling sound.

“Was that a laugh?” You ask, the smile growing larger.

“Hm. No.” He goes right back to irritation. But still, he’s not pushing you away. So, in your drunken state, you decide to test the limits. You slip off the stool and take a step towards Joel. He furrows his brows, but doesn’t say anything. You take another step, and then another, until you reach his table. There’s no going back now.

“Uhm, mind- mind if I sit?”

“Are you really gonna leave if I say no?” He asks, rhetorically. He’s challenging you. You feel your cheeks heat up and your stomach drop. You pull the chair out and settle on it. You’re suddenly very conscious of your near proximity to Joel. The courage you had mere minutes ago is disappearing; you have to fuel it up. You grab an empty, upside-down glass sitting near two bottles of mead, one empty, one half full. Joel is acting quite coherent for a man who’s had that much. You tilt your head in request.

Joel scoffs. “Go ahead.”

You pour yourself a seventh drink, knowing perfectly well that it is an absolutely terrible idea. You down most of it in one gulp, wincing, before putting the glass back down with a thud.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Joel asks, the nickname dripping with irony. Still, your stomach does another flip. “Can’t hold your liquor?” He mocks. He leans back in his chair, legs open, right hand on his knee, left hand palm down on the table. Your gaze travels from his face, down his neck, to his broad chest where the small unbuttoned portion of his flannel reveals a few dark hairs. What the hell are you doing? Your eyes snap back up

“Fuck off,” you mutter under your breath. Joel looks pleased with himself. You finish your drink, looking straight at him, taunting.

“What was that?” he asks, even though he heard you perfectly. His smug smirk is assured now. You don’t answer. Joel fills up his glass. You take it as a sign that he intends to see this interaction through. Fine by you. You search the depths of your sluggish brain to find something witty to say.

“So, Miller. What’s with the accent?” This is the best you can come up with. The words are slurred.

He scoffs again. “Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” he says, pointedly adding your last name. He’s playing you.

“Ah, come on, cowboy ” you continue, impressed by your own audacity, “Where you from?”

Tommy has mentioned this to you before. Definitely somewhere south, but you can’t recall in your current state. And you want to hear Joel say it.

He rolls his eyes at the nickname, but he doesn’t stop smirking. “Texas. Austin.” He takes a sip. “You?”

Texas. Right. Makes sense. In a way, you feel proud to have gotten this minimal piece of information out of him. You didn’t think you’d ever witness Joel Miller opening up to you, not even a tiny crack. But here you are.

“Washington. Seattle.” You copy the structure of his answer; Joel nods, casual. “Uh, you’re a long way from home,” you add.

“Yup.” He doesn’t elaborate. Takes yet another sip. “Seattle, huh?” His gaze pierces through you, eyebrows knitted in reflection. “Born and raised?”

“Yeah…” You’re not certain what he’s getting at.

“There’s a QZ, right?” A pause. “D’you end up in it?” he questions.

The words are like a slap in the face, sobering you up a little. You don’t want to think of that right now. Not at all. You look down, fidgeting with your empty glass.

“Hmm,” you confirm.

“Damn. Heard things got pretty bad up there,” Joel says. You wish he’d just shut up. You don’t like this turn the conversation took.

“Yeah, well, I left, so.” The sentence comes out harsher than you had planned. Joel understands the message; he raises his hands up in defence.

“Got it. Sorry I asked.” The guy doesn’t look one bit apologetic. It frustrates you, and yet…You’re enjoying this little game.

“Yeah, watch it, Miller,” you warn, but your tone has gone back to being playful. Joel relaxes in his seat. He rests an elbow on his denim-encased thigh, shifting his weight.

You proceed. “So what’d you do? In Texas?”

“Hm. Contractor.” He really is a man of few words. His past occupation suits him like a glove.

“Fitting.” You give him an unimpressed pout; he stays unbothered.

“Yeah, yeah. What’d you do, then?” He asks.

It makes you chuckle. “Uh, middle school student. 6th grade sucked ass.”

Joel takes a second to register. Something quickly washes over his face, an emotion you can’t quite discern, before vanishing. You’re too drunk to analyse it.

“Huh. I would have guessed elementary,” he states.

“Aw. Don’t flatter me,” you reply, dryly.

“I’m not. Just sayin’ you don’t seem like you’ve learned much past fourth grade,” Joel says with a shit-eating grin.

Wow. You’re speechless. And then you burst out laughing. And, miraculously, Joel starts chuckling with you, the corner of his eyes crinkling. The sound is hearty, surprisingly warm. It’s the kind of laughter that you would try your hardest to hear as often as possible. That could make you all fuzzy inside, if you’d let it. And just like that, the tension that had been building between the two of you breaks. It’s comfortable, you’re at ease. The moment stretches out; you feel a strange connection with Joel, and you wonder if it’s mutual, or if you’re going completely insane. It’s probably the second option. You manage to utter a few profanities, between two breaths. Joel watches, amused, waiting for you to calm down.

“Alright, you’ve got me there,” you concede, a smile lingering on your lips.

Joel’s expression has softened. He looks younger, somehow, like a few years of constant stress have been erased just by talking with you.

“I may not be the brightest, but at least I can take a joke.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Joel fills your glass with the remnants of the mead, while you push a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to conceal a blush. “You deserve it,” he explains, “if you can take another round.”

“You keep underestimating me.” You raise your glass up in the air.

Joel imitates you. “No hard feelings?” He suggests.

“Deal.” You clink Joel’s glass with your own, and tilt your head back to swallow the foul liquid as quickly as you can, your gut churning in protest. You groan.

“Think my estimation was correct, actually,” Joel quips. You look over at him. Besides a slight glaze over his eyes, he appears unaffected by the alcohol.

“How are you doing this?” You ask, baffled.

He shrugs. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“And by there, you mean kidney disease?” You naively bat your eyelashes at him.

“I’ve survived worse,” he remarks. It’s lighthearted, but it hides a bleak truth you know all too well. You ignore it.

“Yeah. It shows.” You tease, giving him a scrutinising up-and-down.

“Hm. Funny. You didn’t seem to mind it that much when you were starin’ earlier.”

Jesus Christ.

Game over. Joel wins, one million to zero. You want to bash your head against the table, or run very far away, preferably out of Wyoming. And get torn apart by clickers. Instead, you stay right where you are, mouth agape, cartoonish. Fucking idiot. Are you twelve?

“That’s not- I- I- wasn’t-”

Joel is delighted by your reaction.

You wisely decide to shut up and quit stuttering. As if on cue, Mike hits the iconic intro to Don’t Stop Me Now. Max starts singing dramatically, in an offensively bad Freddie Mercury impression. Some survivors join in, not a single one on key, resulting in a cacophony. You take it as an opportunity to get out of the situation. You scramble off the chair and start walking away, stumbling and catching yourself on a nearby table.

“Where you goin’? We weren’t done.” Joel calls after you. You turn around.

“Me? Oh just stretching my legs.” You start stepping side to side and swaying your shoulders, following the rhythm. “Showing some love to the artists.” You shoot two fingers at him, moving your arms to the music. Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re terrible.”

“Well then why don’t come here and try to do better!” You shout back, doing a ridiculous twirl as the sheer quantity of mead you ingested finally hits you. The room spins, transforming into blobs of colour. So, you close your eyes, and you flail around carelessly, your mind too foggy to worry. The tempo of the song increases.

I'm burning through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit-

Suddenly, there’s a presence next to you. You crack your eyes open, checking on who’s intruding. Joel is standing about three feet away from you, hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets. His left heel is tapping the beat.

“S’a good song,” he mumbles.

Joel Miller, nervous to dance with you? Anything truly is possible tonight. You approach him, not interrupting your dance. He stays put. You two are away from the crowd, and it feels like you’re alone in the tavern with him, like no one can see you.

I'm travelling at the speed of light, I wanna make a supersonic man outta you!

As Max puts all of his might into the chorus, you get closer to Joel, because he lets you, close enough that you could reach out and take his hands if you wanted to. And you do, but they’re hidden in his pockets. So you keep dancing, wiggling your hips, jumping up and down. Joel still isn’t budging, but you feel his gaze on you, eyeing your bare arms, the tattoo right under your left clavicle, and going lower down your chest…You take a step towards the man.

“Who’s staring now?” You hadn’t planned to say that out loud, but it’s too late. You take another step, now inches from Joel’s chest, which is rising and falling faster than before. His lips are parted, his eyes intense. It’s now or never. Fuck it.

Your right hand moves up to rest on Joel’s shoulder, causing him to tense up. His expression goes stern, serious, like he’s fighting an internal conflict, debating whether he should pull away. Yet, he remains still. So your left hand goes to his other shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. He holds your gaze, then inhales like he’s about to say something.

A clunking noise interrupts him, shattering the moment. Your arms fall back to your sides and you glance over Joel’s shoulder, searching for the source of the disturbance. You find it easily. Astrid is standing near the table your group had claimed before, her hair thrown in a ponytail, face glistening with sweat, the sleeves of her sweater pushed up. Her water gourd lays on the ground, its content spilled. Her eyes are wide with surprise, jumping between you and Joel. Her mouth contorts in a silent, one worded question.

That’s bad. That is very bad.

Joel notices the shift in your attitude and whips his head around, as a snickering Astrid jogs up to the crowd, merging into it again, certainly to tell Fred about what she just stumbled upon. Joel turns back and leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers:

“Outside. Now.”

His breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Something stirs in your lower abdomen; a longing, a desire that demands to be dealt with, urgently.

Joel snatches his coat from the back of the chair he sat in, before striding towards the exit. You follow behind, docile, not bothering to retrieve your own jacket. Once you’re out of the tavern, the freezing wind barely even pinches your skin. You’re too preoccupied with another feeling that’s dangerously rising up inside. You need his touch. And you get what you want. Joel grabs your forearm, and drags you to the alleyway at the side of the building, lit up by a single, flickering street lamp. In a second, your back is pressed against the logs, Joel’s face taking up your entire field of vision. He’s seething with anger. His pointed finger digs into your sternum.

“You- you- ” he growls. You look back at him like a deer in headlights.

And then he kisses you. Hard. His lips crash onto yours and you let out a startled yelp, jerking your head to the side. Joel stares, anticipating your reaction. You don’t let him wait for long before you kiss back. His hands glide down to your waist, gripping it, while yours go to the nape of his neck. You pull each other in and a burning heat spreads between your bodies. Time seems to slow down as you part your lips to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue in. He tastes bittersweet like the mead. Your heart races. An ache forms where your thighs meet.

Just as suddenly as he came in, Joel shoves you away roughly. Your head bounces on the tavern’s facade. He storms out of the alley without another word, leaving you alone in the cold, panting, riled up, confused.

What the fuck just happened?

Next chapter

To read on AO3

#the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel tlou

89 notes · View notes

factual-fantasy · 5 months

Text

28 Asks! :DD Thank you!! :}} 🛒

@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42

She met Seafoam when she rescued his ship from a great storm out at sea. :00

She brought the ship to safety and the next morning Seafoam crawls out into the deck and pulls himself over the railing to look around. All bruised and cracked from being thrown about the ship all night <XDD

That's when their eyes meet.. she tells Seafoam the story of how she saved his ship. And Seafoam is endlessly grateful! He was so kind and genuine.. 💞

@starz-nova

XDD Thank you!! :DD I'm glad you like it! :}}

@holly-opal (Link in ask)

I have not, but I know of it! :00 A friend of mine loves it and has recommended it to me. I've always considered reading it but never got around to it <XDD

A lot of people commented that he looks a lot like Davy Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean, so I imagine yes! <XDD

He might be happy to find someone that looks similar to him! :DD Though he probably wouldn't approach her.

If he saw someone like that, it'd be on shore. And if he's on shore? He's with his crew. Which means he's got a lot of people too keep track of and protect- he has no time to get distracted by interesting ladies! XDD

@sussyhahag

Man I've put one some weight-- XDD

But thank you! I'm sure Grim and "Gengar me" would be great friends :}}}

@beryl-shade

I could! :DD Maybe he'd be another pirate, they could call him "Tack" for short! :}}

While I imagine she'd love to help out in that way, I imagine Seafoam tends to his own laundry XD

@neo-metalscottic (Gerald's one year in question)

Thank you so much!! :DD The other comic is almost done and I'm hoping to post it soon! I've just had a few rough days with my health so Its not coming out as fast as I'd hope.. 😅 That, and I've been a bit mentally preoccupied daydreaming about web comic ideas.. 😞

As for Morton, I think his skin color will be a simple case of melanism! Nothing too crazy or magical there! <XDD As for his name and how he talks, I think its a reasonable idea that he would be named after a previous king! :0 Perhaps a previous king who had melanism as well..? 👀 Who knows XD

Though with his voice, I cant imagine him talking all "hulk" like. Since he's a part of the royal family he would have access to only the best education and speech therapy (if needed-). So the likelihood of any of the Koopalings having speech problems or talking "hulk" like would be low 😅 though that's not to say that out of all his siblings, he leans towards that type of speech the most! :00

As for Kammy and Kamek, she's not nearly as old as him. I was thinking Kamek is hundreds of years old, while Kammy is the Koopa equivalent of like... 60-70? She was brought into the koopa palace to be a nanny/maid. Her power is different from Kamek's, though I haven't figured out all the specifics yet.. I guess it can be said that when it comes to magic, they both studied and mastered different things.

Now if she ever faced Kamek in combat? He would flatten her. There is no Magikoopa alive today that can compare to Kamek's power..

...Doesn't mean she's afraid to get on his nerves though XDD She loves to mess with him, knowing that he's not allowed to hurt her.🤪

And lastly, its interesting to hear about the Vehicons getting some more originality! :00 My favorite out of those 3 would have to be the red one :}}

AWE! Thank you so much!! :DD I'm honored!! :}}}

@unicornfpotatoesdir

Nah, he's always gonna be littol! XDD And thank you!! :}}

@milk-powrit

My first instinct was no.. since Jangles is like 2.5-3 feet tall and I always imagined sans to be 4.5-5 feet tall. But google says sans 2 feet tall??? XDD If we're going by Googles standards then yeah Jangles is taller- but my heart dont want to believe he's that short 🤣💀

As for the 20k post, Jangles wasn't holding anything other than Gerald.. so I assume you meant this post..? <:0 If so, its a granola bar! Its been most if my diet recently so I imagine I had a few extra lying around for Jangles <XDD

@snailfen

So far I really like it!! :DD Better than Sword and Shield imo that's for sure <XDD

I do not. <:/ But you can find all my Pokémon stuff under #pokemon scarlet and violet or #pokemon in my blogs search bar! <:D

@lathan-chillyfilm

Funky lookin guy, I like him! XDD

@tallchest13-blog

*Cici tugs at my arm

"......so you gonna drink that-" XDD Thank you!

Thank you so much!! :DD I've got my hopes back up recently, hoping I'm over all this soon! :}} 🤞🤞

@yourstrulylightstar283

Awe, thank you!! :}}}

Oh yeah, after the wars all said and done? I'm sure he's pull back on that extreme and get some repairs done 🥺

@mimiocto

You know to be honest, Grim is very dangerous becuase his brother is a Sylveon. XDD If I remember correctly, V is higher level than Grim in the game. Dragon types better watch out! XDD

Oh hey! I've seen that guy around! I used to think he was Shockwave <XDD And he appears to be an Autobot?? With how Chaotic he is in fanart I thought he was a Decepticon-💀

But anyways- yes! With the fanart I've seen of him, I think him and Bash would be great friends XDD

@artblock200322022

Thank you! I'm glad you liked those comics! :DD

Though at the moment, I don't have plans to jump back into that fandom anytime soon. <:/ I've have some uncomfortable experiences with the Octonauts fandom recently so I'm taking a bit of a break for now-

@bee-the-inevitable-death

I don't see a reason to go through the effort to maintain an account on another website. <:0 I have all my inside jokes, my follower celebrations and all my followers right here in one place! Its much nicer :}

Awe! Thank you so much!! :DDD I'm glad :}}}}

@pink088

Nah its fiiiiine dw! As long as I have the bandages on the blood will stay in my hands surly :}} but thank you for the tea! :D

(Referencing this post)

XDD Are we sure it wasn't [M]ango?

Daaannngg.... Homestuck is way bigger than I thought-

@snailshard

That looks beautiful!! :DD And thank you! :}}

#my response #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #factual fam #super mario bros #pokemon scarlet and violet #gengar #sylveon

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liskantope · 3 months

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I've been feeling devastated about last week's disaster of a debate (among other political developments) and see it as evidence that Biden was never a fit candidate for reelection. And at this point I really don't think he has it in him to stick out a job like the presidency all the way until 2029. But I think a lot of people are really overreacting in terms of what kind or variety of weakness it exposed in Biden. I'm a little stunned by how many people -- not generally Republicans or anti-leftists or leftists who have a bias against Biden already, but moderate-left-ish types such as Scott Alexander and Kat Rosenfield -- who seem convinced of things like that the debate shockingly but obviously "proved" that Biden is completely senile, has a clinical level of dementia, is unfit to be president right at this moment (let alone for 4.5 more years), obviously isn't acting as president but must be sitting around dazed while others do the work for him, that the Biden team's insistence that Biden is fundamentally fit has now glaringly been exposed as a complete lie, etc.

One particular narrow range of skills was on display at the debate, and I'm not sure exactly what succinct term to use for it, but it was something like "smooth articulation ability", and it's something I think about a lot as a communicator in my own professional context. There have always been certain mental states I get into (often triggered by stress or sleep deprivation) where words and sentences don't come out as clearly, get caught up in the moment on the wrong beat and get sidetracked, and struggle to get wrapped up without becoming run-ons that lack in a conclusion, where I mumble and stammer easily, and where I have trouble recalling particular words and phrases on the fly, and these contrast dramatically with my moments where the opposite is the case. This especially affects my teaching: it used to fairly often be the case that I had "bad days" where I could tell right from the start of the 75-minute class period that I wasn't going to be able to form thoughts as well as on my "good days". With more experience I've gradually learned how to minimize the "bad days", but I'm still prone to it if I'm not careful. Yet, even at my worst moments of this, it says nothing about my knowledge of the topic I'm teaching about, nor about my fitness in general. It's a very narrow aspect of my mental abilities.

Now one could point out that a huge part of being a politician is being a absolute world-class "smooth articulator". And that's true, and Biden certainly was once, and clearly old age has eroded his ability at this. But it's kind of beside the point when someone is suggesting that stumbling a lot at a debate is evidence of having dementia and being too old for one's job, other than that our being accustomed to politicians being extremely skilled at articulation is obfuscating the fact that for a typical person (whether old and senile or not), having to express one's ideas on the fly in the style of a presidential debate is incredibly difficult. I believe the great majority of adult humans -- including those who are dismissing Biden now, including a lot of the very intelligent and generally articulate among us, including myself -- would probably not be able to do much better than Biden did at that debate if we were placed in his position, and it doesn't say much about our ability to make decisions in the role of US president or about our dementia status.

All that said, what matters most in a presidential debate is the vibes each candidate gives off, and Biden definitely gave off "doddering old man" vibes in just about the worst way possible, which will certainly make a lot of people not feel okay about voting for him, whether or not they've seriously reflected on his capability of performing the actual non-public tasks required of a president.

#our current president #scott alexander #kat rosenfield #dementia #old age #teaching #yes i'm still alive #know it's been a while

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reblogandlikes · 6 months

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Question, but what's the actual timeline prior acotar?

Sure, the war ended 500 years ago, but when did it start? How long did it last? Which Court fought for and against human slavery particularly in Prythian and beyond it? Was there in-fighting between the courts prior across boarders and causing political rifts between each High Lord and other nations? Which court did this main war take place? And who used the Cauldron to construct the wall in the first place?

Another question in relation to the characters.

Mor, how does her character work in the context of the book? She was known as The Morrigon, meaning she fought in war. Was cannon that she was there that even the human queens know of her, but why would she be there in the first place when she's Kiers daughter and its told that CoN is pretty misogynistic, so I'm sure there's no way in hell he'd allow his daughter to be a warrior. He still scares her in the present day, so why would he agree for her to join a war rather than staying back with the other women trapped in CoN where she can remain monitored?

Also, randomly, wtf if her power? I don't understand what "Truth" means or how it manifests and displays itself into something concrete/physical or mental.

Moving on...

We're told Tamlin betrayed Rhysand (we don't have Tamlin’s back story yet from his perspective) and that he used the information Rhysand had given due to them being friends at the time. Now, how on earth did this friendship begin? How long were they even friends for for Rhysand to have supposedly taught him about women and how to fight? How solid had the friendship been?

Speaking of these two, when exactly did they become High Lords of their courts? It can't have been for 500 years because that was the end of the first war, and Tamlin was still a child at the time. Has it only been 200 years...300...400 in actuality? 🤔

And then there’s Lucien’s timeline. How old is he? How long has it been since he was basically granted asylum in Spring? Seeming he was banished and would be hunted if he stepped foot back in the Autumn Court, did that mean Tamlin used someone else as emissary if he ever had to deal with Baron? Who is this person? Where are all the other offical delegates and Lords and those who hold some standing in any of the courts?

Speaking of missing people, who is this other daemati? Where is this other daemati? Did he, she, it even exist? Can anyone else, Jurian, for example, point them out seeming he had been attached to Amarantha's finger for centuries and saw/heard everything?

How and when did Amren escape the prison. How did Rhysand come across her? Why did she bother staying in Prythian and not go back to where she originally came from? Is she stuck? Wtf even is she if we now know she's not Asteri?

Wtf is now happening with Hybern? The King's is dead now...so? You're telling me he didn't have a council or others there ready to take over? Is there currently a power struggle? Are they potentially a threat in the future?

Why do so many characters lack surnames and other family members don't exist?

In this world, there's now been 4.5 books. Further world building could have easily been implentated to close a few gaps.

Lots of questions. I don’t care if you're pro or anti for this post. Someone, please provide me with something or theory, because I'm left filling in the gaps. I feel like I'm thinking too hard with these books when I really shouldn't take anything seriously.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #Rhysand #Tamlin #mor #Amren #First war #sjm critical #wtf sjm #acotar critical #i need some questions answered #world building #anti #pro

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nariism · 11 months

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links ➠ event masterlist ✧ rules ✧ send a request!

STATUS: CLOSED

thank you everyone for participating <3

hiii all my lovelies💗 i'd like to give a huge huge huge thank you for 1k followers and friends (!!!), 4.5 months of endless support, and the chance to be a part of such an amazing community of people :')

i've always been on and off with writing because of my self-doubts but i've come to absolutely love writing as a hobby and remember why i enjoyed it so much in the first place back when i was a dweeby 13 year old kid 🫶

i would love to do a small appreciation writing event for anyone who would like to participate. it's open for everyone so don't feel nervous to send an ask! see below the cut for more info.

if you're just stopping by, then i'd like to tell you thank you for everything!! 💐

info — you choose 1-3 prompts/tropes + a character and i'll write a drabble/one-shot! requests can be sent to my inbox like this (preferably off anon so i can let you know when it's up!)

prompt number: fandom/character: additional info: (ex. tropes you want, angst, fluff, platonic, etc. anything you'd like to add that you want to see!)

i will be closing requests for this event on 13 Nov EDT

the same rules apply as my regular writing rules. please see those before you send a request!

note. all writings will be x gn!reader. i have free creative liberty for anything i write and i may not get around to all of the requests if i can't think of anything for the combination submitted. i am also busy with life stuff so it might take me a bit to finish things. remember, this is all for fun!

FANDOMS/CHARACTERS OPEN

blue lock: itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi

genshin impact: open for any characters!

haikyuu: miya atsumu, miya osamu, kita shinsuke, ushijima wakatoshi

other: hayakawa aki, gojo satoru, geto suguru, loid forger (💐)

++ i would consider characters not listed here that you want to see!

TROPES

1. friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers

2. forced proximity

3. fake relationship / marriage of convenience

4. soulmates (any rendition)

5. coffee shop

6. roommates

7. accidental confession / accidental kiss

8. handcuffed together

9. hurt & comfort

10. enemies / rivals to lovers

11. mutual pining

12. oblivious pining

13. one bed

14. drunk confession

15. second chance

16. unrequited love

17. matchmaking / matchmaking gone wrong

18. domestic

PROMPTS

19. "do we like... hold hands now?"

20. "please, come home."

21. "i could kiss you right now!"

22. "oh no, the power went out, however will we stay warm?!" (/s)

23. "we fell asleep by accident and woke up as a mess of tangled limbs."

24. "i'm done waiting."

25. "i've always needed you!"

26. "you look so beautiful in the moonlight."

27. "i think i'm in love with you."

28. "don't look at me that way."

29. "do you want my jacket?"

30. "wait, don't pull away... not yet."

31. "i can't sleep."

32. "i can't believe it took you this long to admit you like being the little spoon."

33. "your necklace fell off... let me put it back on for you."

34. "i could stay up all night talking to you."

35. "say it again. please."

36. "we're fighting. i'll take the couch tonight." ➡️ (bonus) "we were fighting???"

++ feel free to add any you want! these are just some examples

i'm so thankful to each and every one of you. i hope you enjoy! <3

links ➠ event masterlist ✧ rules ✧ send a request!

#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#pls don't flop please #blue lock x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #haikyuu x reader #csm x reader #jjk x reader

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kylestfs · 2 years

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New whip! !!Pm me for more pictures of him and for any requests!! Harvey, a 19-year-old skinny straight man, had been looking for a car online for several weeks. He had been accepted to a new college far from his home and inaccessible by public transportation.

After much searching, he finally found a deal and booked an appointment for the day college started, but luckily for him, school started at 11 a.m. that day. The car was a 2018 Nissan Altima with only 45k miles for just under $21,000. It had everything he wanted, a sunroof, navigation, heated seats and was in great condition.

Upon contacting the seller, Harvey noticed that he was quite unprofessional, said "bro" in every sentence, and didn't even have basic grammar skills. Nevertheless, he decided to make an appointment to see the car in person.

**Day of appointment**;

Harvey had taken the bus to get to the seller's house. When he arrived, he saw the sedan parked in a driveway. He made his way to the door, and without ringing the bell, a muscular athlete who appeared to be about his age opened the door, and Harvey was hit by a smell of manly musk coming off from the jock himself & his house. "Hey bro, the name's Kyle. You here for da whip?" "Hello, my name is Harvey, I'm here for the Nissan, yes."

They talked about the car for a while, the jock showing him the trunk, the interior, and everything he needed. Harvey was in love with the car, and he wanted it as soon as possible, which he did. Harvey bought the Altima and was super excited to drive his very first car. "Alright bro, it was great showing you the car, you'll see, it's life changing dude." Kyle said, full well knowing what was about to happen to Harvey. After completing the paperwork, Harvey left the sportsman's house, ready for a 30-minute drive to college.

As he drove off, Harvey noticed a really strong and ripe smell inside the car that smelled like the locker room at his former school. He thought it was gross, but he didn't think much of it either. As he drove, he felt like the smell was getting stronger. The ripe smell was seeping into his body from every hole, and he'd soon be changing just 5 minutes into the ride.

First, his odorless and small feet grew, so much that he had to replace his feet on the pedals. Then his shoes completely burst because of how big his feet were getting. Harvey was now riding barefoot, his new size 15 feet looking ridiculous compared to his small body. Next up were his legs. He used to have small, dainty and tiny legs, but that was about to change. They were getting stronger and gaining muscles that only someone who works out can have. Harvey kept driving, oblivious to what was going on, only focusing on the locker room, musky smell of his new to him car.

As Harvey's legs began to grow, he strangely didn't feel his below-average butt growing as well. His butt was getting rounder and bigger, landing over-average sized but still not too huge. Even if it wasn't as big as it could be, it could still be seen through any kinds of pants and be able to bounce whenever he would walk. Harvey was now extremely attracted to the scent, having a full on boner because of it. He kept inhaling it vigorously, which spurred his transformation even faster.

His penis and balls were rapidly changing and enlarging, his previously extremely small 3 inch boner was growing, but surprisingly it wasn't growing too much. He ended up at a better, but still way below average 4.5 inches, with a set of still-ridiculous balls that looked like they hadn’t even dropped, and were barely even bigger than before.

Harvey now had the lower body of an athlete, and obviously his transformation didn't stop there. "Bro I love this car!" Harvey said, he had never ever said "bro" before, but it just seemed natural to him, he didn't even question it. His previously flat stomach changed, again very quickly, as he inhaled more and more musk. It quickly became a pronounced 4-pack, with a pair of small, tight, but muscular pecs growing over it. Harvey's nipples grew and became large, sensitive chorizos. As he got another powerful sniff, his arms grew larger. His biceps and triceps grew larger until they were truly impressive and strong. "DUDE, I'M RIPPED", he said. His once hairless armpits grew dark bushes of hair, but that wasn't the only part of his body that got hairier. His bubble butt, feet, legs, arms, and crotch grew, and all that hair produced, of course... a lot of musk. As a result, his body started to smell pretty bad. His feet, which were odorless before, now permanently stank of cheese and sweat, having a disgusting scent that would be highly noticable whenever he would remove his shoes. his armpits now stank too, but with a less strong and noticeable odor than his feet, and it had notes of body odor and sweat. "PFFFFFFFFFFSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT" Harvey's bubble butt now started to smell really bad, a strong odor of manly, teenage fart would now be coating it forever, all that butt stink would be caused by him bursting horrible smelling protein farts every 10 minutes. Harvey didn't even notice his new musk, so he didn't say anything.

Now that Harvey really smelled like a 19-year-old college teenager, his head was the only thing he had left, and... his memories, of course.

His head, tiny but filled with an intelligent brain, was growing, but his brain, on the other hand... shrank. Harvey was getting dumber by the second, his grade point average dropping from A+ to C-. Any trace of knowledge about personal hygiene faded as he now barely even brushed his teeth once a day, but he didn't care, he was hot anyway. His former good driving skills were also fading and being replaced by new bad driving skills. One of the biggest changes was probably his sexuality as well. Before, he had been as straight as a board, but while he was driving, he quickly started staring at other boys. He thought to himself how good it would be to sniff their armpits, "Damn, that guy looks so hot dude" he also stared at their butts, imagining what it would be like to have a boy penetrate his own round, musky jock butt. "Look at that fine piece of ass, I hope something even bigger is on his front" Harvey's heterosexuality faded, into another one of his loud and foul-smelling fart, adding on to the locker room scent of the car, while homosexuality slowly took over. As his sexual desires changed, he felt shame wash over him from his penis being under average, but also felt proud that his butt was big, he'd realise that he would need it alot.

More changes happened in Harvey's head when he was only a few blocks away from his college. His teeth straightened and became a winning smile, his jawline became sharper and more attractive, and his hair turned brown and transformed into a fluffy, attractive teenage cut that was usually very sweaty. His neck thickened while his voice deepened. "I'm so hot bro, I'll find a gir-...boyfriend so easily this year, I just need my buns to get filled.." “fu-fuck….i think ones coming….” "PTTTTTFFFFFSSSSSSSSSSSStttttt" His rotten egg fart scent was now taking over. while the final changes took place Harvey pulled into the parking lot and parked his car, not even on the white lines. He got out of the car, obviously knowing that his ridiculous 2 inch soft penis was visible through his shorts, but he didn’t care one bit. He walked to the school building, having no memories of his previous life, his ass leaving a trail of fart stink behind him.

@tfmybody enjoy your body, filthy jock

commission #1

You can shoot me a dm concerning anything, if you want any questions or specifications about it, do not hesitate!

#male transformation #straight to gay #musk #top to bottom #smelly feet #jock tf #stink

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theworstofallpossibleworlds · 4 months

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Can you please ask Brian what camera, lens and film he uses to shoot the eclipse?

This is a characteristically late response, but I'd love to get into it. I got into film photography by picking my dad's childhood brownie hawkeye off of a shelf and ever since then i've stayed pretty cheap with the hobby. I got a really good deal on a Kiev-80 a couple years ago. For those who don't know, its a 50 year old soviet camera made as an imitation of a Hasselblad (the camera we took to the moon). It's a medium format camera, so focal lengths work a little different than they do in 35mm

Medium format cameras like this take pictures that are 60mm by 60mm. Your typical 35mm camera takes 36mm by 24mm frames, so the added film sixe here means generally everything has to get bigger. The lenses i've gotten for this camera all have massive cases and can be carried with their own separate strap. The lens used for the eclipse is just... so big. oh my god. it's a mess. It's a Tair-33, with a minimum f stop of 4.5 and a focal length of 300mm (equivalent to 165mm on 35)

This model of the lens has very fun, characteristic stripes, the aperture control is all the way at the front, and easy to use. Focusing, however is slow, as the weight of everything creates quite a bit of friction. You can get one of these for about $80 bucks. Now 300mm here is not a great magnifier, so I also got a (faulty) accessory to extend the focus, bringing the lens to 600mm (330mm equivalent in 35). It also makes this camera, all put together, into The Largest Object of All Time.

squash and butter for scale

To see the difference between 300mm and 600mm, check out these photos of the regular, non-eclipsed sun at both lengths

You're probably wondering why these pictures look so weird. these lenses are don't have very effective coatings. you wouldn't believe the processes that go into coating your glasses, your camera lenses, your phone lenses. The easiest kind of picture to take is one where your subject is lit by a souce that is behind the photographer. things get complicated with backlight, creating ghosting and glare as seen above. the light bounces between the glass elements (and the dark filter used to photograph the sun is also glass, complicating it further). taking a direct photo of a light (especially the fucking SUN) leads to some pretty crazy unpredictable variables.

My camera has recently taken on a new malady too, where at low speeds, the shutter (which in this camera is a huge metal curtain sticks at the edge without totally closing. It causes these stripes at the edge of the picture. This can be frustrating if i forget, but I like having the issue. If i want a picture to look normal, to plan it out, to totally control it, I have a digital camera for that. I got into this film stuff for the eccentricities.

For the regular sun photos, I think I was shooting on Ilford FP4, which i think i stand developed in rodinal. At the eclipse, I only got through one roll of film, becasue the cloud cover was brutal, but i took those pictures on Kodak Tri-x 400 (developed normally in D-76). I did it all in Black and white because, in general, b&w negatives are pretty generous with mistakes. All the guides i could fine for solar photography were understandably written with digital cameras in mind, so I couldn't be totally sure about my math (as the camera is totally manual) or even my eye safety (as I'm using a viewfinder; my vision seems fine a month later)

the actual iris on this lens is right up in front. Tightening the aperture, especially when the extender is attached, leads to a vignetting issue, turning your pictures into a circle

once totality hits, the light changes dramatically. you can stare straght at it without glasses and not have to worry about damaging your eyes for those short minutes. so i didn't even bother with film at that stage. I just pulled out my DSLR with a cheap 500mm Samyang mirror lens made for pentax. It's very compact and very, VERY shitty. Shallow focus, really dark, ugly out-of-focus elements, focuses past inifinity, i love it. only got a couple pictures that way, and then put the camera down and enjoyed the experience

#film photography #medium format #120 film #soviet cameras #black and white #solar eclipse #solar photography #ilford

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rainingfishandfrogs · 8 months

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Sailor Moon Thoughts - i know i'm 10yrs late but Crystal's not that bad actually

so i recently got back into sailor moon

grew up on the english dub 90s anime (watch the jpn sub in 9th grade)

had only read the manga once in the past and that was in college; however i just recently bought the first 2 volumes of the collector's edition (just finished V2 actually!)

but this is my first time watching Crystal (mostly bc when it was first coming out there was so much backlash and hate and it made me turn away from it)

now that i've read volumes 1&2 and watched S1 i gotta say...when compared to the manga Crystal's honestly not that bad and i'd say overall pretty faithful

Spoilers for Sailor Moon Crystal!

Usagi and Mamoru

first thing's first! mamoru's age is fixed! fucking yay!

in both the manga and crystal he's a 16yr old 2nd year high school kid! not a 1st year college student dating at 14yr old little girl! he and usagi compliment each other and it really shows in crystal imo

90s-SM fleshes out this couple individually more in the first season and i'm in love with that and they have some really sweet moments and i still ship it ofc i do BUT the age difference got so iffy and squeakable for me when watching again as a grown ass adult!

some of usagi's emotional intelligence is downplayed and she sometimes comes off as even younger than she is and that makes the ship feel uneven and i just keep thinking "there he goes off with his child bride 👋🏽" and it really doesn't help that they animated mamoru looking so much older and acting like a mature 20-something (even tho yes, he's closer to 18 but an 18yr old dating a 14yr old is still so squeakable to me)

the manga is where this ship thrives and it's more believable that they fall for each other especially bc they're on more equal footing but crystal adds in a scene in S1 that i personally love that's when sailor moon and tuxedo mask are fighting zoisite toward the middle of the season (before venus shows up)

i'm massively paraphraseing but in this scene usagi doesn't just tell but shows mamoru through her tears and pained expression that she understands he's deeply lonely and that it hurts her, she doesn't want that for him, she wants to do everything in her power to make sure he never feels that way again

and mamoru tells her that SHE is everything he wants and he doesn't need a magical stone to find out who he is and where he belongs not when she's standing beside him bc her strength and kindness are inspiring and he's not afraid or lonely when around her

"i won't let you be alone anymore" / "seeing your strength makes me so happy" couples are my downfall and this scene cracks me right open

and this is BEFORE they regain their memories i'm fucking dead!

5/5🌙

English Dub

i vaguely remember ppl shitting on the English dub of Crystal and yes i watched it in Japanese first but the English dub is actually really great?! especially when compared to the 90's English dub!! i love Usagi's VA and i think all the voices match the characters pretty well

4.5/5🌙

The Transformations and Character Designs

okay so those 3D transformations are bad

the animation is really jarring at first and yeah it's not good i don't like it but after a while you just sort of...idk get used to it and it's not a make-or-break thing imo now did the 90s anime do it better? fuck yeah! but by the end of the season i just felt meh about them and barely cared

1/5🌙

i remember the character designs getting A. LOT. of hate and yeah i agree that they are too sharp and angular and that the manga was more a cross between the 90s and crystal character designs - but that's another thing you get used to and also doesn't that get fixed later?

plus idk i kind like that both animated versions each take one end of the spectrum with the manga in the middle 🤷🏾‍♀️

2/5🌙

The Big One

okay now the big one - the supposed past love between the 4 heavenly kings and the inner planet guardians that wasn't in the manga and definitely not in the 90s version where these guys are handled more interestingly

i think this subby-subplot that's not even really a subplot is stupid and doesn't amount to anything and doesn't actually make a ton of sense if earthlings and...and moonlings being together is forbidden the serenity had to SNEAK AWAY to see her earth prince and it does sort of take away some of the tragedy that is serenity and endymion's doomed love

like i was going "what was the point of that" when the kings all die and the sailor girls are weeping for 2secs before getting back to busniess and i get wanting to expand more on all 8 of these characters, but that's not how you do it - 90s-SM expanded on these characters better because plot points were stretched out and we got to know the characters more slowly over a longer period of time (plus 2 of the kings were lovers! that's cute as hell!!)

basically this whole thing was shoved into the story last minute with very minimal build up barely any conclusion and it's really uninteresting

0.3/5🌙 (only bc venus dropping a few hints every few episodes was done well enough-ish but it was still stupid in the end and shouldn't have been included the way it was)

Conclusion

even with that though crystal still isn't that bad - overall it's actually pretty good and i love experiencing the manga coming to animated live

the OST is beautiful! and even tho NOTHING tops the 90s theme song that crystal usamamo love theme is fucking gorgeous 😍 in fact all the music in crystal is top teir imo

i do miss the focus on the female friendship tho and kinda wish crystal took some of that 90s-SM female friendship focus BUT 90s-SM just had so much more time to work with and at the end of the day SM is a romance so i understand why the anime adapting the manga more closely focused on the romance more heavily (and that usamamo scene i talked about above is still so. damn. good!)

anyway if you're like me and didn't bother watching crystal bc the hate and backlash when it first came out i say give it a try

it's still cute and still sailor moon and so far it's getting a 4/5🌙

i'll probably do another one of these when i finish S2 (jon and eng) and the volumes it adapted

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polkadotpenguin16 · 2 months

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I survived my first day back in the office after 4.5 years. Was expecting for it to be really rough, but it was one of the most wonderful experiences I've ever had. Coworkers I haven't seen in almost 5 years gave me hugs and brought me donuts. My work friend quit the week before I came in and I moved into her old desk, and she left me the loveliest card. My manager was out of town but texted me to check in that I was doing okay. It wasn't our director's usual day to be in the office, but she came in especially to see me. I got to meet our newest hire in person, and we are going to be the absolute best of friends.

I also survived driving by myself for the first time. It was so peaceful and I got to jam out to whatever music I wanted!

I'm in tears by how overwhelmingly happy I feel. Life's been rough for a while now, but I'm beginning to have hope that things are going to be okay.

#random thoughts

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joeykangaroo · 3 months

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hey guys, just wanted to make a final post updating the unaware on my situation.

i was caught in a mass banning of innocent players on february 19th. dozens of accounts were randomly banned due to false or non-existent offenses. customer support did nothing. they would not provide evidence of any wrongdoing. they would not give me any assistance, any closure.

i have—had—been playing animal jam since 2011. my uncle showed it to me just before he passed. this game was near to my heart. this game meant everything to me. playing it reminded me of him, of countless other people i've lost who i shared it with, of my current partner of 4.5 years who i met through the game.

i felt more grief in the two months following than ever. i became severely depressed. i was unable to do anything. people in my life were not supportive or understanding - that shit was hard!

i cannot stand to look at this blog anymore, or look at joey or kanga or misterguy anymore. i have lost so much. i think i can confidently say now that i hate wildworks, i hate animal jam, and i hate everything that led up to this happening. i hate that i was never even given a chance. i hate that it felt like i was completely alone. it became clear to me, in that moment, that animal jam does not care about their players, not one bit.

the funniest part about this is, ironically enough, i was in the process of cleaning up my blog so i could apply to be a jambassasor.

as if i'd ever want to spend my days sucking wildworks' dick so they can pretend they ever cared about anything but making money. LOL and in the meantime they had a jambassasor get outed for preying on children and a whole bunch of other chaotic shit. maybe i left at the right time!!!

in the meantime:

follow @nottherealajhq! i love these guys!

find me at @thetwistedwhiskersshow!

i'm doing artfight this year as mosspiglets and yes, i still have old animal jam ocs up!

take care of yourself. i may hate AJ now, but i love jamblr - all you guys. you really are a great community. keep on going. 💛

best of luck,

joey 🦭💫

#mod words tag #animal jam #jamblr #tagged for visibility ha ha

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enderdeservesbetter · 2 months

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RATING SPEAK NOW (TAYLOR'S VERSION)

With 16 votes in the poll above, I'm going to listen to Speak Now (Taylor's Version) for the first time, I think I've heard some bridges but nothing more.

Ok, I don't have much more to say, so let's get started.

I have found MANY songs from my childhood here, so don't pay attention to me being happy because I listened to songs and they brought me good times

SONG LIST:

Mine (Taylor's Version) 3.5/5

+1 From the instrumental I can see Taylor dancing in the fearless outfits on the eras tour <3 // +1 She sounds so jovial, even if it's a re-recording she sounds SO GOOD // +1.5 some lines sound a little strange, but there are others that are SO GOOD

For an album opener, it's strange but it's beautiful and how it prepares you with a soft and jovial dance energy. I can tell you that I have experienced the situation you describe, and all with the person who made me feel TSMWEL.

Sparks Fly (Taylor's Version) 4/5

+1.5? I REMEMBER THIS INSTRUMENTAL AS IF I WAS IN PRIMARY SCHOOL, it's so beautiful to listening after so many years 🩷 // +1 something the vocal feels a little empty, but it's ok // +1.5 I remember only hearing the 'drop everything else, meet me in the pouring rain' and it's so nice to find the song where it came from.

Believe it or not, it was one of the few songs that I heard on the street before 1989 in my country and that's where I know that lyric existed.

Back To December (Taylor's Version) 4/5

+1 I know that I have heard this song from somewhere else, but I don't know where, in my childhood. // +1.5 She sounds sad even on the rerecording wow, she really screwed up // +1.5 I HAVE HEARD THIS LYRICS IN MY CHILDHOOD, I KNOW, IN THE SUPERMARKET

While I said I hadn't heard any songs from this album, the bridge came up a lot in compilation videos and I thought I wouldn't like it as much, but the song is really nice

Speak Now (Taylor's Version) 3.5/5

+1.5 I think I focused so much on the fact that these songs are almost from my childhood, that I forgot to comment that it is so beautiful to listen to instrumentals without so much synth-pop // +1 I remember this song sung with an almost childish tone, and now I hear it with a voice of a completely mature woman and it is so... shocking and beautiful // +1.5 Sorry, the whole scene so beautifully described and making sense when sung is an enormous achievement and she was 20 years old (or so)!

It feels like that time I accidentally got lost in the supermarket and a similar Taylor song was playing and I swear I think I can find it on this album

Dear John (Taylor's Version) 4.5/5

+1.5 It's a 7 minute song, but hey it's enjoyable... // +1 HER VOICE IT'S STILL BROKEN :(( // +2 MY GOD, JOHN, you can't be that shitty! I'm kidding, you are.

Ah yes, a 7 FUCKING MINUTES song how beautiful! But as a person who was groomed when I was 12 and he was 19 (Taylor's age when she made this song, and the age I am now...) this song is strong, I haven't started crying because I mourned that month years ago, but I think the scar never goes away and is very visible. What I mean is that it's not something you live with and say "I have no regrets."

Mean (Taylor's Version) 3.5/5

+1.5 The instrumental feels fuller than the original, without being overpowering and I honestly like it more than the original // ... 1 Something I don't like is the beginning of each verse that seems like a tongue twister, but when you read it quickly it's not difficult, but it's difficult to understand Taylor when she sings it. // +1.5 I love the imagery and the way of describing the words, the weakness, the feeling of inferiority and the hope that the situation will change and the other person will see that they cannot make you feel bad again.

Something I've noticed in the songs so far between this album and Reputation is the structural pattern, it doesn't exist in Lover anymore... And honestly I like this pattern better

The History Of Us (Taylor's Version) 4/5

+1.5 That instrumental is one that I would love to listen to without lyrics! // +1 She sounds so beautiful, such a sad song in such a happy rhythm // +1.5 The lyrics are so rhymically pleasant that they scratch parts of my brain that were hidden and it's 2AM and I can't start dancing

Another song that is part of my childhood, please someone save me! It feels like I'm listening to the music on the 5 a.m. radio when I'm with my grandfather for morning coffee, and at the same time it feels like a walk through the mall while I help my mom buy food for the week and sing songs that my father would definitely forbid

Never Grow Up (Taylor's Version) 4.5/5

+1.5 I didn't even listen to the song twice and I was already crying // +1 I'm aware that she doesn't know me but I feel like she's telling my story (minus the moving part) and she's talking to my little self // +1.5 She sounds so beautiful and the lyrics are so vivid!

Now TTPD feels bland "but it has a lot of analogy and and and" no, thank you. It is insipid and lifeless, not that it lacks complexity. (Another note) THANK YOU FOR BREAKING MY HEART AGAIN WITH A SONG RELATED TO CHILDHOOD AND INNOCENCE

Enchanted (Taylor's Version) 4/5

+1 I've heard this song everywhere and I didn't want to listen to it in its entirety and it's so beautiful // +1.5 She sounds so dreamy it feels like I'm interrupting something very private // +1.5 I think I'm going to give it an additional point because despite the repetitions, and the fact that it's 6 minutes, it didn't stand out at all.

Another 6 minute song, I complain a lot, but how I am enjoying this! It feels so nice, full of life after TTPD, I mean I know it's the concept and everything, but honestly the more I hear from Taylor, that album is one place lower in my ranking, only surpassing Lover at the moment

Better Than Revenge (Taylor's Version) 4.5/5

+1.5 OH MY GOD THAT INSTRUMENTAL IS ALL THAT'S GOOD!! // +1.5 Seriously, this whole album sounds so in her style that it makes me want to listen to Fearless (Taylor's Version) right now // +1.5 I love the change of lyrics, and I love how she describes the person but well, she wasn't the best person and Taylor definitely had no qualms at that time

Innocent (Taylor's Version) 4/5

+1.5 The instrumentals remind me of The Anthology 🤍 // +2 Another song that goes on my playlist called little child, it's so beautiful

I think the songs that never failed to hit me are the songs related to childhood and innocence, and this album is full of them.

Haunted (Taylor's Version) 4.5/5

+1.5 I can't stop loving the instrumentals! // +1.5 She sounds so good in this style!! // +1.5 The lyrics go so well with the instrumental and THOSE HIGH NOTES FOR GOD! I swear I understand this lyrics to heart

Everything makes so much sense in this composition, the occasional violins, the electric guitar, the high notes, EVERYTHING

Last Kiss (Taylor's Version) 3.5-4/5

?1.5 I don't know whether or not to give this instrumental a point because it's late, I'm sleepy and I'm falling asleep listening to it // +1 she still sounds very heartbroken :( // +1.5 She waited for that kiss like I waited for that "last.... kiss"

It is incredible to know that she wrote such works that one says "now there are people who do it" "there were before too" I still haven't found anyone who does it so vividly, with such accuracy and ALSO that you can see yourself in the music and that you also appreciate that other history

Long Live (Taylor's Version) 5/5

+1.5 This album should stop having such good instrumentals! // +1.5 I feel like she is telling me these stories as if I were her daughter, and as if she were giving me an old book of these same ones. // +2 I can't help it, this yes or yes is my favorite, the imagery, the way of putting it into words, the message in general. I can't not give it a 5/5

How bad would it be if I dedicated this song to my brother, who was always my best adventure partner even if now we are not as close as before?

Ours (Taylor's Version) 3.5/5

+1 The first sentence was right, this song sounds like an elevator song // +1 She sounds so happy, I guess it's a bit of an act, but it may also have been that reconnecting with this part has helped // +1.5 Another song about getting into people's lives and with such a beautiful message in between (not the muse, I care so little)

I would listen to this song while I am doing homework or other things, it is one of those songs that you put on to sing and it becomes the soundtrack of the chore you are doing. I'm not saying it's bad, but it doesn't grab my attention THAT much.

Superman (Taylor's Version) 3.5/5

+1.5 Another song that she song that she would dance in the Fearless dress // +1 She feels so comfortable in this element that it hurts // +1.5 Oooh how I feel this lyric! She is so dreamy and so free at the same time, how beautiful 🩷

Seriously, every time I think she changed the type of dress indicated because there were no colors or because of the representative colors of the albums because I don't think you can dance this in a ball gown, but I guess that's not the vibe she wanted to give either, but hey, the Eras Tour is about to end and it was still magnificent

AND WITH THIS, WE END WITH THE ORIGINAL VERSION OF SPEAK NOW

Electric Touch (From The Vault) 3.5/5

+1.5 How do I not download every instrumental on this album??? // +1.5 I love Fall Out Boy and I love that he had a whole verse and it sounds so good with Taylor... // ...1 That first moment of meeting a person and having everything vibrate with anticipation, it is something that I wouldn't change for anything.

I feel that it is a very tender song and at the same time very passionate, even hormonal, and although I love it with just one listen, it doesn't quite fit with Speak Now, but it doesn't fit with any other album.

When Emma Falls In Love (From The Vault) 3/5

+1 That soft piano at the beginning🤍 // ...1 I'm going to be honest, there is a second voice that bothers me and all the "ss" sound like hissing. // +1.5 It's such a beautiful song, about a person who handles love in his private life in a fairly healthy way in Taylor's environment is incredible

Imagine that you are the inspiration of a talented friend and on top of that she makes a song, and tries to learn from you. Well, it doesn't happen to me, but it does to Emma Stone.

I'm not saying that this isn't a spectacular song, but the AUDIO QUALITY is horrible, and the whole experience is...

I Can See You (From The Vault) 3.5/5

+1 I can't believe that even though it's a different genre, the instrumental automatically reminds me of imgonnagetyouback // +1 She sounds so sexy and with such a high rhythm, it's almost perfect but I don't know what she's missing :( // +1.5 It's definitely a song that would be on Reputation, with a different rhythm, with such daring lyrics.

I'm going to be completely honest, I'm listening to the YouTube playlist, and I'm playing the MV in the background. Honestly the story is great, but it bothers me that there is no clean audio on the official playlist.

Castles Crumbling (From The Vault) 3/5

+0.5 It has many synthetic touches aaaaa we were going so well :( // +1.5 HOW HAYLEY SOUNDS, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL HARMONY! They sound so good // +2 The song that was about fame and how it affected her life was missing on this album :( this song is sad and tragic and beautiful at the same time

Foolish One(From The Vault) 3.5/5

+1 What beautiful instrumental // +1 She is singing the song to me who doesn't talk to any human being apart from my family. // +1.5 Definitely my song

It's strange but I feel like the quality has gone down on the From The Vault songs, but they are still beautiful

Timeless (From The Vault) 3/5

Here the lyrics feel like a mixture of ideas that is difficult to make sense of in a song with these lyrics, I guess she wanted to make an overly complicated image OF HER OWN STORY, But if she was simply talking about people and how time affected love in general, and not directed at a single muse, the whole scene would have been better, but HEY, this song already came out like this so ...

Conclusion: I know I've criticized TTPD a lot, but I remember reading many times that Taylor Swift's last album was similar to this one, because of the number of long lines, and yes they do. But to TTPD, TTPD lacked life, not emotion, life. I don't know how to explain it, but even Midnights had more life than TTPD. I understand that these are all individual concepts and completely difficult to put together.

Further, speaking about Speak Now (Taylor's Version) there are some VERY good things on the original album and others that are good, but I feel that in the From The Vault section the quality dropped a lot.

3.5-4/5

#taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #reputation #speak now taylor’s version

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bedpolls · 4 months

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how many characters do you have in your inbox?

I'm sure you didn't expect a nice long response anon, but that's what you're getting.

Right now I have 50 asks in my inbox, including this one. The last time I completely emptied the inbox was on 5/14. Best case scenario, is that it will take about 2 hours for me to sort through and post the requests to the queue. Once I got over 100 asks in less than a 48 hour period, and straight up spent 4.5 hours sorting through them. Here's why it takes me so long.

I do a basic search to make sure the character in question isn't a minor, and to figure out what their actual name is. I cannot stress this enough, idk shit about 90% of the requests I get. I don't know who that character is. Any mistakes made with names or photos chosen aren't because I secretly hate you and that character, or because I'm being malicious. It's because I've got little to no way to know what's correct. I'm going off shit on wikis, and most of that content is written by a bot nowadays anyways.

For me, the ideal submission format is "[FULL CHARACTER NAME] from [FULL TITLE OF MEDIA]" and that's it. That way I can just copy/paste directly from the ask into google. I have not instituted this as a rule, simply because I can't get people to read what rules I do have in the first place. Idk how much more eye catching that posts needs to be. It's bold, in red, and pinned to the top of the blog. If I put in a requirement for formatting, it would disqualify most requests, and I don't want to do that.

Some people feel the need to editorialize in the request itself, which tbh I mostly ignore. I don't care why you submitted this character. Idk anything about this character. Do whatever. Live your best life.

A random character nickname + acronym for the title is also the worst. I can usually figure it out, but it takes longer. When I've still got 30+ requests to get through, that's frustrating. I think sometimes people will just put the acronym for a piece of media in out of habit, or because they see I've used an acronym at some point in the tagging system. Tumblr does recommend tags, and that's why I might use it. This means that, when an acronym pops up again in the ask, I still don't immediately recognize it until I can remember googling it two weeks ago the last time that piece of media came up.

When it comes to the age of characters, I'll be honest I have much less patience. Sometimes I will google "[CHARACTER NAME] age" and what comes up is a spirited reddit thread, where people are arguing about whether or not the character is 15 or 45. Or 16 or 1500. Or whether or not they count as a minor, if they're physically 13 but actually 120 years old. Or whatever. I just fucking delete those, I'm not dealing with that shit.

I also often have to search the blog or scroll the queue to see if I have done the request before. There's a few video games where I've gotten a bunch of requests, there's a shitton of characters, and the names all blend together. If it's a duplicate, I delete those requests.

Generally speaking though, I try my best to ensure that every request gets posted. Yes even if it's weird, even if it's niche. You can submit characters from that one webcomic, or that one movie you love from 1954. The only requests that get deleted are ones that are 1) duplicates 2) violate the posted rules or 3) are so incomprehensible that I have no way of knowing what the fuck the requester is talking about.

#mod post

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seulgiwifeee · 7 days

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28 Reasons — 001

Masterlist <<< Next Chapter <<<

Hi, I'm Kim Soomin

Today's starting off amazing. You reek of petrichor, your clothes being heavily dampened by the untimely rain, and your soaked loafers clash against the marble flooring, producing an unpleasant squelching noise with each trudge your feet leave in their wake upon entering the school. The irritably distracting noises earn you an unwanted share of silent, prying stares from each individual you bypass, and all the sudden attention makes you unwittingly lower your head in shame. You try your best to avoid eye contact with anyone as your eyes dart amongst the array of lockers, vigilantly searching for the only person who you're in the mood to see right now.

You storm up to your locker, and your body shudders with instant relief seeing Chaerin, your best friend, already there waiting for you. Her wandering eyes broaden, flashing with a satisfied glint whenever she spots you approaching, and pushes herself up from the lockers, gravitating towards you.

"Soomie!" Chaerin gasps. "Finally, what took you so long to—? —Oh, erm.." Her body repels from yours as quickly as she walks over, holding herself back from wrapping you in an embrace once she notices how drenched you are.

"Soom, why are you so wet? Did you not bring an umbrella? Also, why the hell did you arrive so late? Class starts in less than 10 minutes, you know!" Chaerin flattens out your crinkled skirt and blazer and hurriedly drags you down the bustling halls, pulling you into the nearest bathroom.

—

Kim Chaerin, the only girl in the world who you can say with an aired-out chest full of confidence, passion, and pride is your one and only best friend.

You and Chaerin's friendship blossomed during the later years of primary school. Back then, you were simply a friendless, quirky ten-year-old who had a peculiar fondness towards tennis, and come to find out in the middle of a random discussion during one of your P.E. classes, Chaerin just so happened to be the only other person who also loved tennis as much as you did.

One conversation led to another, recess hangouts led to playdates, playdates turned into sleepovers, and before you knew it, the two of you had become inseparable. In the beginning, before your innocent and oblivious mind gained the capability to understand why, everyone you two had encountered then and even now had always questioned your friendship. Because while you're no more than the average, humble, middle-class student who makes decent enough grades that'll at least satisfy the greatness of their parents' hearts, Chaerin is quite the opposite, and not in the negative sense. Most say she's way out of your league, which you can't deny is not only a harsh opinion but for the most part a fact.

Chaerin is the top student. She's never degraded herself to accepting anything less than a 95% on her assignments or assessments (even a 95% doesn't fully satiate her standards most of the time), she's always studying during her given free time, she's constantly engaged in helping in numerous ways within the community in and outside of school, she's won every class president election ever, her first time winning starting way back in year five.

Although not won the recent years, she's recently been elected student body president for this school year, she holds the highest recorded GPA in the school's history with a striking 4.5, she's received plentiful public praise and rewards for her remarkable achievements, and once graduation rolls around it's already a given fact that she's going to be valedictorian.

Your best friend is the name of the competition, the most studious of them all who's continuously raising all students who attend this school to the highest standards. She's the epitome of what schools are looking for in a diligent and overachieving student and no one has yet to come close to matching her strengths.

Many envy Chaerin for her overly succeeding accomplishments while others deeply admire that most about her. Not to also mention that her beauty is a remarkable addition to her smarts—it's hard for anyone to not fall love-struck by her jet black bob, button nose, heart-curved lips, perfectly sculpted cheeks that aren't too round but fatty enough that give her an adorable charm, and her captivating brown almost black doe-like eyes. The girl's even collected herself a handful of admirers who constantly burden her in the hallways and class; she's like a mini-celebrity in this school.

Just a quarter of her accomplishments could put your A - B average grades to shame, and oh does the shame eat you up.

Sometimes, a hidden part of you is dissatisfied with yourself whenever you watch how perfect everything about Chaerin is in contrast to you and your life, but you also try to limit yourself from how much you compare yourself to her.

After all, Chaerin has been given the upper hand her entire life, considering how her father, who, already born into grand wealth, was a professor at this very school for fifteen fulfilling years before becoming the district's school board chairman, obtaining many useful connections that could potentially help Chaerin succeed further into her academic career if ever needed. And her mother is the CEO and founder of the largest makeup company in all of South Korea and other surrounding countries, producing more money in a week than half of the morsels your parents earn from their jobs in a month.. combined.

She has two overly wealthy parents who love their daughter so dearly and want nothing less than the utmost success and satisfaction they can grant her; ever since she was a growing toddler, Chaerin's been assigned the same private tutor her entire life who is, in other words, incredible at what they do, her parents have forced her to study at after-school academy from practically the crack of dawn until the latest hours of dusk every weekend since she was in elementary, they've put her in every brain-stimulating extracurricular activity—like community service events, academic clubs, and to give her a little fun in life, tennis—there was to offer, they've already pre-chosen the college for her to attend that they know will ensure her the most success in life, and her college fund is well more than paid-off.

With a backbone like that, Chaerin has the privilege to quite literally be and get whatever she wants in life. Also, the standards she's always grounded herself to are vastly different from anything you're currently worried about in life, so you know comparing yourself to her in any shape is otherwise unrealistic.

And besides, Chaerin's your friend, your best friend, the best friend who could make or break you. She's the only reason why you were able to make it into this school in the first place—Incheon International High, the most prestigious and sought-after high school in the country and has been deemed the top rated school in South Korea for the 10th consecutive year now.

Acceptation rates are slim to nonexistent; usually, students from already established backgrounds of wealth are the only few fortunate enough to get chosen—primarily because they just bribe their way into the school most of the time. And for how hard you worked your ass off back in middle school—making sure to attend the optional after-school academy for exceeding hours every weekend and leaving little to no free time to yourself because you'd spend most afternoons meticulously studying so that your grades would stay balanced at all A's for the rest of the school year—your chances of getting selected into the school were still looking bleak. But that's where Chaerin came in to save you, and with the help of her dad's connections plus a little negotiation with the school, you were soon an official attendee of your dream high school.

So with that said, there's no room to weigh down any negative emotions or envy upon her, not like you'd ever want to anyway, but also especially not if you want to continue not being an outcast.

Other than always having the accompany of Chaerin, one of the only other things that's keeping you somewhat relevant in the school is the fact that you're a foreigner.

Well, you're not a foreigner in the slightest bit, you barely even know any other languages aside from a handful of broken English phrases. Instead, you're mixed race, and receive constant attention from the other curious Koreans for your slightly off accent and alien-like features, as most of them like to refer it. As ironic as it is that you're attending an international school, you're the only student from your grade who isn't all purely Korean by blood, and the treatment you receive for your differences isn't necessarily that bad per se.

Would you say the attention is good? Sure? Do people spread gossip about you? Of course. Everyone in this school has been talked about at least once, but despite whether or not someone decides to spread factual news or spew downright ridiculous lies on your name, none of it matters to you. You'll milk out every remnant, every speck, every molecule of attention you can elicit just as long as you never end up as a nobody. You know it might seem ridiculous to carry this mindset around and accept that kind of treatment, but when you're trying to survive through the iciness and competitiveness of this school's atmosphere, nothing is ever deemed too ridiculous.

—

"Well, I wouldn't be late nor wet if Doyeon hadn't decided last minute that she wanted to give Jimin a ride to school without letting me know until I was already fully dressed and ready to leave the house. I had to pay for the bus again!" you grumble as Chaerin plugs in her blow dryer and uses it to suck your clothes dry. You angrily detangle your lightly dampened hair with your hairbrush. "Oh, and my mom took my umbrella with her to work. So yeah, I had nothing but this measly backpack to shield me."

You stare at your reflection through the sink mirror and heave a disappointed sigh. "This is the second time just this week that she's backed out on me like this. It's only the third week of school and she's already making me deal with this bullshit? She promised me last year that she would quit doing this shit!"

"She really is a bitch for that," Chaerin replies and you nod with a huff. "Also, couldn't Jimin just drive himself to school like he does every day? Does he suddenly not have two feet and a car anymore?"

"Supposedly, his car got scratched up during the weekend and is getting fixed in the shop right now," you explain in a mocking voice.

Chaerin raises a brow and tilts her head. "Sounds like a bullshit excuse to me." You roll your eyes and nod, humming an irritated "Yeah."

"Honestly," Chaerin pauses, raising the blow dryer to your chest, "I think something's going on between those two. I mean, I know you've been noticing the way Doyeon's been canceling plans with everyone left and right just to hang out with him."

As if speaking her into existence, Chaerin quickly shuts herself up from speaking any further as Doyeon unexpectedly walks into the bathroom, seeming to not notice either of you as she continues into the stall.

—

Choi Doyeon, she's a gal you either love or hate, but right now you're strongly leaning toward the 'You're sick of putting up with her bullshit' side.

The two of you met through Chaerin during sophomore year, and although you're pretty close now, your friendship wasn't a bond curated on the instant. In fact, it was quite a challenge getting her to open up to the idea of being friends with you—someone who was nowhere near her league—and it wasn't until five or six months later into that school year that you two officialized a friendship.

At some point whenever you two had grown close enough, you eventually vented to her about how conflicting your parents' work schedules and your school schedule were. There wasn't enough time for either of them to drop you off and you were continuously being drained of all your money for having to pay for your bus ticket each day; it was bemusing to see her sympathizing with you.

In turn, you both came to an unexpected compromise where Doyen agreed to drive you to school every day free of charge to help your situation out. She was the only other rich girl who gave you a chance, and you were incredibly grateful for it. But becoming friends with someone like her, even while having its good sides, is definitely.. not for the weak, to put it more nicely.

Like most girls who attend this school, Doyeon is rich, arrogant, and overly opinionated. You'd like to put emphasis on the last trait because, unlike the others who are too much of pussies to vocalize their dislikes about anyone unless, behind each other's backs, Doyeon tends to run her mouth freely, not afraid to let herself be heard or care if it actively offends anyone. And she does offend and anger those who hear it, but she still ends up getting away with it each time without any consequences.

It would be logical to assume that she gets away with her haughty remarks, sly comments, and strongly outspoken opinions because of her high status and wealth, but everyone here is wealthy and a snob. She's no different than the average student who walks these hallways. The only thing that gives her a greater advantage is her beauty. Yup, what a shocker that pretty privilege is a well-alive and prevalent hierarchy in this school.

Doyeon's beauty is undeniable, one of a kind, really! She's a natural-born stunner; no amount of plastic surgery, skin care, or extreme dieting could replicate the dazzling uniqueness that shapes her features.

While Chaerin raises the academic standards, you could say that Doyeon sets the beauty standards for the girls in this school; they all dream of looking like her. Her face is perfectly symmetrical, her physique is unmarred, her proportions are to die for, and her height peaks just at the desired requirements of a runway model—speaking of models, she's the head model for the school's fashion club while also having done a handful of commissions for local companies. You're not entirely sure how factual this is, but it's even been rumored that she'd supposedly received emails from name brands begging her for photo shoots and sponsorships.

Doyeon's also the captain of the golf team, which in honesty, you believe that golfing is a snooze fest. You've constantly asked her, trying to understand why in the world she's decided to play it for the last four years out of every sport there is to offer. She says it's elegant, doesn't require much effort, and keeps her looking flawless at all times, which.. is understandable from her standpoint. You suppose she has to maintain her athleticism and beauty at once one way or another.

—

You and Chaerin glance at each other through the sink mirror awkwardly, eyes stretched and bodies stiffened in shock from the unexpectedness of Doyeon's appearance. Chaerin then quickly unplugs the blow dryer, and you quietly but hastily store your hair products back into your book bag. You two scurry out of the bathroom and hurriedly stride down the hallways. Once you've curved a few corners past the bathroom, you two finally slow down, and you exhale a relaxed sigh after unknowingly holding your breath the entire time.

"—But I agree," you interject, disrupting the silence with a clearing of your throat. "Those two 100% have something going on. The tension between them is palpable, like did they seriously think we weren't going to catch on eventually?"

"Right.. Oh, Eunbi is going to be so pissed if she finds out about any of this," Chaerin snorts, securely holding onto her book bag strap as she adjusts it more fittingly on her shoulder.

"Shit, they might as well just tell her now with how transparent they already are." You and Chaerin snicker a little more before you walk up and lean against a group of lockers for a quick rest, pulling out your phone. You beckon Chaerin forward and out of the hallway with a simple finger curl, and she steps up, nestling beside you.

"Look at this picture I snuck of them a few days ago." You shove the phone in Chaerin's face, displaying her an image of Doyeon during P.E. class up in the bleachers sitting comfortably in Jimins lap.

"Oh my god?" Chaerin gasps, covering her mouth. "Oh, they're done for."

More snickering laughs escape from your throats, and Chaerin's eyes wander around as you two do, scanning the hall. Suddenly, her expression shifts and she shoots someone a scornful glare, her hardened features ridden with disdain. Her next words buzz out a sibilant breath, barely audible, though you can still hear it clear as day. "Crazy bitch."

Overrun with immediate confusion, your eyebrows crinkle. "Pardon?"

"Is she crazy? It's nearly freezing outside and yet she's wearing the summer uniform?"

You shift your focus where Chaerin's attention lingers and spot the girl to whom she's referring, eyes locking on her frame. You observe closely. Her hair's long and a deep midnight black with thick bangs to cover her forehead, she's extremely pale and you can only catch quick glimpses of her face as she walks by, her head remaining low. On one side of the girl's face, her hair is tucked behind her ear which reveals her earbuds. And Chaerin's eyes aren't wrong, the girl is indeed cladded in the summer uniform—the white, short-sleeved collar shirt and navy blue mid-thigh length skirt instead of the personalized name embroidered blazer, long-sleeve collar shirt, and a skirt a few inches longer that every other girl in this school is currently wearing.

You look back at Chaerin and shrug. "I mean, maybe all of her outfits were dirty and that was just her only other option to wear."

Chaerin huffs and juts her lips to the side. "Any responsible student who attends this school would have their uniform pre-cleaned and already prepared for all days of the week."

"Well.. you never know how hectic someone's life could be outside of school. Maybe she just hadn't found the right time to get them cleaned," you suggest. Chaerin rolls her eyes at your attempts to redeem the girl and looks back at her.

As the lone latter walks along the lockers, another pair of girls also strolling by walks past her, but as they do, the ravenette suddenly trips over, tumbling down to her hands and knees on the marble tiling. One of the two purposefully tripped her.

Chaerin immediately cackles, not even trying to hide it from the girl to hear as she pulls herself to her feet and glares over at the snickering pair walking away. However, you just stand there, puzzled and unable to know how to feel. Bullying sightings aren't a foreign occurrence in this school, it happens so often that you've pretty much become desensitized to it and nothing serious is ever done to prevent them, unfortunately. But for some reason, something about seeing it happening to this girl in particular infuriates you. It invokes the rage within you in a way you can't explain.

You watch as she resumes her walk and approaches the classroom door you and Chaerin are standing by. For a quick second, she halts at the entrance and turns her head to you two, her eyes binding with yours.

Her expression is stoic, her eyes dull, and her skin is an even more sickeningly pale up close.

What if she thinks you were also making fun of her?

Something at the pit of your stomach coils, your throat tightens, and your body hair is erected with the shiver that sprockets through your spine. It's a feeling you're too familiar with—guilt?

Man.. you don't want her first impression of you to be like this.

Wait a minute, what are you worrying for? Why would you need to care so much about what she thinks about you? She doesn't know you. You don't even know her name!

She disappears into the classroom, and in exchange comes out a not-so-jolly teacher. He glares down at you and Chaerin sternly and raises a scolding finger. "Shouldn't you ladies be in class?"

"Yes. We're sorry, Sir. We'll get going now!" you apologize with a quick respectful bow and latch onto Chaerin's wrist, dragging her down the hall with you.

"Oh my god, did you see that? She stared at us so creepily!" Chaerin snorts, looking over her shoulder with a grimace.

"Maybe it's because she overheard you laughing and saying those unnecessary comments about her."

"Well, I mean, she's weird. She deserves it."

You bring yourself to an abrupt halt as you reach your Korean History classroom door and look over at Chaerin, your eyebrow striking up in confusion. "Weird? How? All she did was wear the wrong uniform."

Chaerin shakes her head. "Not just that, she's just always been a weirdo," she says pushing open the door and entering the classroom.

Still confused by her vague response, you quickly tag behind her and follow her to your seats.

"What do you mean by "always"? Do you know that girl or something?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Who is she?" you inquire, settling down at your assigned desk beside hers. Chaerin sighs to herself before turning to you. "Kang Seulgi.." she starts, grimacing just at the thought of the name. You tilt your head in curiosity as you listen to her go on.

"She glares at people creepily and never speaks to anyone. I would assume she's a mute if it weren't for the fact that she's constantly seen talking to herself, but I've rarely ever heard her voice. If you asked me, I'd say she's possessed. I mean, she has to be, there's no soul in her eyes. And no normal person who takes place in such a classy and prestigious school would present themselves in such a way. I don't understand how that weirdo even got accepted here in the first place if I'm being honest. Probably just another pity student who the school let in."

Kang Seulgi.. how have you never heard of this name before?

You nod awkwardly, mumbling "oh"s and "okay"s after every added fact. Before Chaerin can rant any longer, the teacher calls for everyone's attention. You turn your head to the front of the class, all that Chaerin's informed you leaving you in a heavy thought as your teacher begins the class discussion.

All day you've been thinking about that Seulgi girl; her haunting face has been engraved in the back of your mind for the past 7 hours and you just can't seem to shake the image away. The way she looked at you—her face lacked any emotion or warmth; she looked almost ghost-like!

Every aspect of that encounter was upsetting and unnerving, though at the same time it also fueled you with a sense of pity? Everything's still confusing.

You enter your last period alone and sit at the desk closest to the outside window. Seeing you still have a good while until class begins, you pull out your phone and scroll on it in the meantime. As you mindlessly scroll through your peers' social media pages, you notice a shadow edging closer and closer to you from the corner of your vision. You try to act oblivious to it, but the figure approaches so close to the point that you can't keep ignoring it.

With a silent huff, you look up and see Doyeon towering above you, causing you to immediately narrow your eyes at her, exhaling an irritated sigh.

"Hey, Soominie.." she greets softly in a voice you know is far from innocent. Her body's in an awkward stance and her hands hide behind her back as she bats her lashes.

"What do you want?"

Doyeon's slightly taken aback by your harsh tone, but she continues. "Again, I'm sorry for all of that this morning; not telling you I was picking up Jimin and making you go out in the rain or whatever. I swear, I was going to tell you I couldn't pick you up last night, but it was like really really late and I kinda just forgot.

I hope you aren't still too mad.. Please forgive me?" She offers you a packet of two sugar cookies, the same sugar cookies that were served earlier during lunch today.

Is she being serious?

You fold your arms, keeping your eyes narrowed as you look at her with an unimpressed look.

Like a switch, Doyeon's expression almost immediately contorts to an annoyed one and rolls her eyes. "Don't look at me like that! I said I'm sorry, geez! Just forgive me and accept these already!" she snaps defensively, stomping her foot in anger.

You roll your eyes. Could she act any more predictable?

"Well, I'm sorry for being upset that I had to spend my money to ride the bus again this week and had to walk in the rain and get all wet and gross because I didn't have my umbrella, thinking I wouldn't need it anyway since I assumed you were picking me up, just to find out you changed plans and didn't tell me until the very last minute," You argue back, leaving Doyeon speechless.

As much as she wants to, Doyeon can't deny your anger and knows she's clearly in the wrong, but of course, her pride won't allow her to admit that aloud.

Doyeon's face blazes with anger and she snatches the cookies back firmly. "Fine, don't take these then! I was only trying to be a nice friend and make things right, but you just always have to nitpick at any form of apology I ever attempt with you and make a huge deal out of every little thing! You're impossible!"

And then she storms off, sitting on the opposite side of the classroom with her good ole buddy Eunbi and immediately begins to ramble her ear off about what just happened between to two of you, most likely trying to paint herself out as the victim.

—

Lim Eunbi, other than outside of the lunch table, you don't converse with her often, so you don't know much about her.

The little you do know is that she and Doyeon are best friends and have been for far longer before you and Chaerin even considered looking each other's way. Something else you also know about Eunbi that she doesn't know of herself is that Doyeon's dating her brother behind her back—Jimin. Well, you're not 100% sure if they're officially dating, but the signs are there, and it's clear that something is stirring between the two.

It wouldn't be much of a big deal if it weren't for the fact that Eunbi had expressed multiple times about how uncomfortable she'd been with the many times Doyeon would ramble to her about how much she found Jimin attractive and isn't in any way down with the idea of someone that close to her dating a relative of hers. Especially someone like her brother.

Doyeon promised that she'd stop finding interest in her brother and wouldn't dare to cross the boundary that was set. And you know what? Doyeon did stop expressing anything about liking Jimin. Eunbi's brother wasn't a topic in conversations anymore and it seemed like Doyeon had gotten over him. But obviously, you can see that just meant Doyeon would become more low-key with it and hide any future relationship from her best friend.

If Eunbi ever finds out that something is going on between the two after all that Doyeon had promised.. oh, the fight that'd breakout would not be a pretty sight for eyes to witness.

—

You roll your eyes at Doyeon once more, shaking your head and return back to your phone, which is short-lived because the teacher soon calls for everyone's attention, getting ready to start class.

Doyeon didn't pick you up today.. nor yesterday.. or the day before yesterday.. or the other days before that..

You're not going to sit around and pretend to act shocked—Doyeon always pulls this move whenever you two get into arguments or if she ends up not getting her way with something; she won't talk to you for literal weeks until the both of you either "forget" why you two argued in the first place or if you make her feel like she's not in the wrong anymore. It's a draining cycle.

Once again like the many times you've done this week, you enter late into school, head hung low in a mixture of shame and anger. You approach your locker, meeting with your best friend who's already lost most of her patience.

With her arms crossed and foot balanced up against the lockers, Chaerin looks you up and down expectedly, quirking an eyebrow at your late appearance. "Doyeon didn't pick you up again, did she?"

"And still isn't answering my texts!" you add, feigning a smile, but roll your eyes as your attitude quickly veers from sarcasm to frustration. "I don't even care anymore."

Chaerin hands you an iced Americano she had purchased earlier from the cafeteria, and you both continue down the hall to class. "You better care, Soomie! I'm tired of wasting my time looking like a friendless loser waiting all alone by the lockers for you to get here! But I'm a good friend so you know I'll still wait for you despite that."

"You and I both know how stubborn Doyeon is! She'll only give me rides again if I accept her sorry excuse of an attempt at an apology, and I'm not going to until she gives me another one where she's sincere!"

You would ask Chaerin to drop you off to school, you really would, but you live on the opposite side of the city from her, and her trying to go all the way down to your place to pick you up amidst her hectic morning schedule along with dealing with the early morning traffic just wouldn't work out in the end. At least she's been paying for your bus tickets, though.

Chaerin groans loudly and goes on to ramble something along the lines of how she's supposedly going to "strangle" Doyeon if she doesn't hurry up and apologize.

"Why, why, whyyy?"

You bellow a gravelly groan into your palms, whining and dreading about as you frustratedly stomp your feet in place like an angered toddler, making sure to release your mini tantrum to mentally ready yourself before your P.E. class begins.

As ironic as it is that you're one who has and still actively partakes in sports, P.E. is a class that you've always hated, and dealing with it is even worse now since you don't have anyone to complain about it to the whole time with—who would've been Doyeon. But she isn't talking to you and you aren't talking to her so now you don't have her to depend on anymore.

Cooling breezes whirl past your sensitive skin, causing idle strands of your hair to lightly dance across your face, and you adjust the itchy gym uniform shorts around your waist as you join the rest of your classmates aligned at the start of the track.

Once everyone's present and crouched in starting positions, your coach, Coach Jang, blows his whistle, prompting everyone to take off down the track. Jogging the outer lane, your head rotates to the side to look over at the bleachers, silently judging all the girls who are sitting down.

Never do they participate during laps, they don't attend to any of the stretches the class does as a collective, they don't join in on the bonus activities near the end of class—literally all they spend the entire class time doing is just sitting there fixing up their makeup and gawking at the spent and shirtless sweat-ridden boys with their perverted gazes.

The odd thing is, those same girls still end up receiving full credit and passing this class. Well, most of them are rich so you're aware that they most definitely negotiate bribes with the coach to get their way out of participating, nothing new or out of the norm. But the other sum of them are lower class, all the way down in your league, some even lower.

You don't have a single clue as to how they get away with it because you know that if you attempted to rest for even a millisecond without your coach's permission you'd receive an automatic zero for the day.

Passing close by to the end of the bleachers, you spot Doyeon and Jimin seated at the very top of the stands chatting and laughing with each other. Of course they are.

Just the sight of them irritates and annoys you deeply, causing you to scoff at them before turning your head back straight ahead of yourself and continuing to jog.

As your stamina wanes and more people start to pass by you, a familiar-looking passerby suddenly catches your attention. It takes but a second glance at them and them displaying their face into view as they look over their shoulder, not staring directly at you, to answer your unasked questions.

Seulgi?

How are you only now realizing the two of you have the same P.E. class?

In other news asides from Doyeon being an absolute bitch to you, you seriously haven't been able to get that Seulgi girl off your mind these past few days.

You're starting to see her way more often than before ever since you've acknowledged her existence, and every chance you're given in the classrooms and hallways, you just.. sort of.. observe her?

Like right now, there's no telling how long it's been, but you're only now realizing you've stopped running, allowing even the slowest class runners to surpass you just because you've been keeping your eyes fixated closely on Seulgi. You can't control it. It's like she's reeled you under some sort of trance—even if you wanted to, you just can't tear your eyes off of her.

You're sure you could check her out all day, but your longing gaze is suddenly interrupted and you're brought back to reality with the help of a deafening whistle blown directly into your ear.

"ACK!" you squeal loudly, quickly clutching onto your ears as your muscles stiffen from shock, and you tumble onto the rocky track like a fainted goat, lying vulnerably in a cradle position. Your eyes slowly follow a pair of sneakers, trailing up the towering figure until you're met with an enraged Coach Jang looking down at you.

"What have I told you about stopping during laps without my permission? 20 ups and downs now!" he fusses, not leaving any room for protest as he blows his whistle a second time, making your body jerk again. He doesn't even bother to help you up and stalks away, getting ready to search for his next unknowing victim to give extra stretches to.

"You good?" an approaching classmate asks and gestures a hand out in an offer to help you up. You accept her hand, lifting yourself back to your feet, and covering your right ear to try and tune out the ongoing ringing that buzzes throughout your ears. "I guess," you sigh and brush off the dirt and rock specks that made their way onto your clothes.

You glance ahead at your classmate's shoulders, seeing Seulgi's figure fly past her. Once again, she's stolen your gaze.

But this time you manage to snap out of it, blinking and redirecting your attention back over to your classmate and nod slightly. "Oh yeah, thanks by the way—"

Your share of gratitude is interrupted when your hearing is, once again, invaded by the piercing sound of that god awful whistle. It wasn't even blown near your ear this time yet it somehow sounded louder than the first time?

You and your classmate yelp and quickly clutch onto your ears as you hear, "Soomin, Jinny! 20 ups and downs now! And if you continue lazying around I won't hesitate to double or triple it!" chided across the field from Mr. Jang.

Once your nerves learn how to settle again and your body calms down, a low groan escapes your throat, and Jinny stares at the ground with an annoyed expression. You look over at Jiny and frown.

"Sorry.." you mumble sheepishly.

"It's alright," Jinny assures with a shrug. "He was probably going to find one way or another to give me extra stretches anyway."

Letting out final sighs, the two of you drag your feet towards the bleachers and don't waste any more time to begin your punishments.

As you two jog up and down the stands, you still find yourself unable to stray your eyes from Seulgi. You don't want to look away, even if it costs you almost ramming into Jinny or tripping up the steps an embarrassing amount of times.

Once you both finally finish your laps, the rest of the class is already in the center of the field going through the routine of the stretches. The two of you join everyone in the back and leech on to the stretches they're currently on.

Your attention has been stolen again, but instead of eying Seulgi this time, you're now glaring at Doyeon. She's standing next to Jimin, like she has been for the last few days since your argument.

She's deliberately been ignoring your presence, hardly even looking in your direction, she's never stretched next to Jimin or stuck by him nearly as much as she has been now; she's purposefully doing this only to prove that she's doing fine without you despite your argument. It's childish and petty, but Doyeon doesn't care. Not as long as she's getting her point across that she won't be the first one to make things right.

The hallways are brimmed with chattery students leaving classrooms as the final dismissal bell chimes. As students exit the building, you and Chaerin linger around the school's entrance waiting for the rest of your—technically just Chaerin's—friend group to meet with the two of you so that you all can go down the street for after-school academy.

"Have you and Doyeon made up yet?" Chaerin asks between gum chewing. You suck your teeth, mumbling a low "no," which you feel should've already been the obvious answer without her needing to ask.

Chaerin huffs and pushes herself up from the wall. "It's almost been a week! You two are still going on about this?"

"It's not me! She's the one who's acting all weird and won't give me a better apology!"

"Well, then whenever she comes in a few minutes you need to confront her, and you two better sort things out and make up. Immediately."

You look off to the side and sigh. "K."

After about five more minutes of waiting, the rest of the group arrives together. All except for Doyeon. But it doesn't take long after for her to come bursting out the double doors, looking oddly more cheery than usual.

She approaches you all with a large smile, waving happily. You all wave back, and as she comes closer, you decide that this is your chance to speak. "Hey, so Doyeon—"

"—Sorry I arrived a little late, guys. I had to deal with.. some.. things!" She walks right past you, completely dismissing your attempt to speak with her.

Your eyes narrow as she continues to talk to and mingle with everyone else, acting as if you're not even present.

"Hey Doyeon, can you, ya know, apologize? For flaking on picking me up and acting the way you've been this past week?"

The slight, responsive head turns some of the girls send your way shows that you've clearly spoken out loud enough for even the people who aren't your targets to hear you, but still, Doyeon continues to act like she can't hear you and continues to talk with everyone else.

Your jaw clenches, your fists clutch at your sides, and you take a step closer to her. "Doyeon, just give it up already! What do you gain from this other than preserving your pride? Just apologize sincerely and this whole feud we have going on can be over with!"

Doyeon stops talking and raises an eyebrow. She turns her head back in your direction, though she doesn't look at you directly, and turns her head side to side as if she's in search of something. She then turns back to everyone else, folding her arms and tilting her head. "Guys, do you hear something? There's this annoying buzzing in my ear I keep hearing and no matter how many times I try to tune it out it just won't shut the fuck up."

You were going to be patient with Doyeon, but this was your last straw. If this is how she's going to choose to continue to act then you're done trying to make things straight with her. You won't ask her for rides anymore and continue to take the bus if it means to make peace from whatever this is. "Okay, you know what? I'm done with trying with you anymore." You pivot towards the school in an angered impulse and storm off, making your way back inside.

"Soom, where are you going?!" Chaerin calls out, but the door slams shut and you're too far off down the hallways before you can hear a word she's saying.

You're not sure why you decided to journey back inside the school, you don't even know which way you're headed. All you know is that you just need somewhere to cool off.

Not paying any mind to any potential obstacles or your peers you pass by, you swerve a corner, jumping back immediately as you almost crash into another individual. With your mind clouded with anger and frustration, you're ready to continue storming off and act like this never happened, but your expression suddenly softens the moment you find yourself holding gazes with Seulgi.

The two of you stand hardly a foot apart, staring at each other in an almost tangible silence. You look at her inscrutable expression, trying to gauge her emotions.

Something within you wants to say something to her, maybe to just spark up a quick, greeting conversation, but no words come out as you part your lips.

After a few more seconds of awkward silence, Seulgi pulls out the wired earbuds that dangle from her blazer pocket and swiftly clogs her ears with the tiny buds. Her eyes shy away from yours in a downcast, and you can hear her mutter indecipherable words under her breath as she quickly ghosts past you, her shoulder slightly brushing against yours as she turns the hallway corner. Your head spins in time with her frame as you watch her descend further away down the hallway until she's nothing but a blur in the distance.

Normally, a silent encounter like that would give you the creeps, but something about the mysterious allure that radiates off of Seulgi infatuates you, deeply. Something deep within you has a yearning to discover more about Seulgi, to see past her closed-off demeanor, to figure her out because it's almost like there's an unknown force trying to tell you there's a lot more to the her than what meets the eye. You need to know what it is hidden that's so special and interesting about her your subconscious can sense that you're not getting?

You're going to figure her out, one way or another. You're going to make sure of it.

Once Seulgi's out of your line of sight, you turn your heel and return down the hallway on your aimless journey, your anger and frustrations now replaced with spiraling thoughts of Seulgi.

You will figure her out.

Next Chapter <<<

(OPEN) Taglist: @aerithykly @seullovesme @babybeastluv @saysirhc

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