random-boring-life

[soul-of-rei]

one of the top universities in the country and you cant even figure out how google forms work . great job everybody

[sensitively-taken]

death valley — jay park

synopsis. death valley—the heart of southern Seoul’s street racing scene. it’s filled to the brim with drug dealings, murder, and very, very hot people. at least, that’s all what you’d thought, until you’d stumbled across the valley yourself one friday afternoon. that day, filled with anticipation and fear, a certain biker named Jay—and his trailing crew—taught you that death valley wasn’t as half bad as you’d initially thought.

pairing(s). biker/racer!park jongseong x gender-neutral!reader ft. enhypen, winter x karina (aespa), & taehyun (txt)!

genre(s). action, fluff, humour, romance, street racing au, (implied) uni au.

warnings. alcohol consumption, food consumption & mentions, illegal gambling, illegal/street racing, mentions of drugs, profanity, reader gets slightly inebriated but not quite drunk, and suggestive dialogue. rated PG 15.

word count. 19.5k (19505) ik this is scary but BEAR w me!!

taglist. @soobin-chois @hyuckworld @soobverse @svnoofy​ @my5colors​ please fill out this form (or send me an ask w your groups) to be added to my permanent taglist!!

listen to! spotify link OR death valley, fallout boy ⭑ roots, imagine dragons ⭑ back door, stray kids ⭑ jopping, superm ⭑ all in, stray kids ⭑ vroom vroom, charli xcx ⭑ zombie pop, DPR IAN ⭑ desire, ATEEZ (it sucks ik 😭 i’ll edit it as soon as i have time)

notes. ik this is late (by ONE day or u can simply reverse ur clocks 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️) but she’s a bit massive ngl 😭 don’t think dirty i didn’t even remember her being this long (i thought she was 15k MAX) but she’s a whole wopping 19.5k!!!! almost 20k!!! that’s insane! but don’t let the word count scare you 😭 i promise biker!jay is worth it kfsdkfjska and you will love him in this. just trust me!

other, more practical notes to include that pertain to the plot: 1. pls don’t do anything reader does in this fic i BEG 🙏🙏🙏reader is v head empty & has the power of Fanfiction & Main Character Syndrome on their side. pls do not attempt anything in this fic. stay away from strange men in leather in fact!

2. reader is heavily implied to be queer and easily attracted to different ppl 😭 so reader is gonna FLIRT (or at least try to)

3. i don’t condone heeseung’s behaviour AT ALL. he is despicable and downright evil. i just wanted to have a “Bad” character to balance things out.

and that’s it!! i’ve rambled too much & you probably want to get ahead to reading the fic so i won’t stop you! enjoy!! ♡♡ feedback & reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

I – Death Valley Bad

Death Valley was the heart and soul of southern Seoul’s racing scene.

Every Saturday night, there were two main races held there. One held for the bikers and the other held for the drivers. Usually, people attended the bikers’ race. It was cheaper to bet on a biker, there was less exhaust in the air to tire out everyone’s lungs, and its tracks were only a walking distance from the abandoned subway station—which just so happened to be the best hiding location in case the police caught wind of a night’s events. Those who managed to get past the fear of being arrested and crossed the kilometres to the racers’ track either never returned to the bikers’ track or came back but never spoke of what they’d seen. Also, the cars apparently carried cocaine, and the drivers would kill without a second thought if someone tried to steal some.

At least, that’s what you’d heard when you’d moved to Seoul.

Lee Heeseung, the cute little brunet who’d been showing you around your university, had made sure to let you know of the famous valley. His eyes had been wide, and he’d been making crazy hand gestures, but you’d still got the point.

Death Valley bad.

So, why on Earth were you in the infamous valley? That’s what you’d been wondering for the past couple of minutes, on a good ol’ Friday afternoon.

You fanned your face and tried to turn on your phone, only for it to remain blank. “Fuck.”

Of course, your phone had to turn off right when you found yourself in an unfamiliar and dangerous place. You didn’t know who was up there laughing right now, but you hoped your misery was worth something to them.

You slumped down against the walls of the abandoned subway and cried. Well, you didn’t exactly cry. But you did wallow in self-pity for the next ten minutes or so.

“Woe is me, for I am stuck in the middle of nowhere and the only people who can help me are probably criminals.” You finished off your tiny piece of monologue with a dramatic sigh, before wiping a fake tear from your cheek.

Then, you stared blankly at the graffitied wall across you and the gravity of your situation suddenly dawned on you. Sure, wallowing in self-pity and quoting long-dead poets was fun, but if you didn't do something quick, you didn’t know who–or what–you could encounter. It wasn’t a Saturday night—thank fuck—but the bikers and racers were probably tinkering away in their little workshops somewhere nearby and could happen upon you soon. If you didn’t want to become Death Valley Kebab, you would have to do something and you’d have to do it fast.

With a grim look on your face, you decided that something was going to have to be hitching a ride with one of the bikers. Yes, yes, they were criminals, but criminals were better than cannibals or whatever it was that had been scratching against random pieces of scrap at the other end of the tunnel.

Hoisting your bag on your shoulders, you took a deep breath in and took the first step out of the weird comfort of the subway. The air outside of the subway was less stale, the floor was a mixture of gravel and dirt, and you could practically hear the tumbleweeds rolling away in the distance. You could feel the sun beating down your back, and your throat dried up immediately. You were already regretting it. But, you were still in one piece and that was all that mattered.

“See, _____? That wasn’t so bad.”

With less fear in your system now, you continued your journey towards the bikers’ tracks. You had absolutely no idea if you were heading in the right direction or not, but you were hoping—and maybe even praying—that your body would find a way to sync up with nature, so you would magically stumble upon your destination.

Considering your luck, that was not what happened. Instead, your legs tired out quickly and your feet grew tired of walking across the terrain. It was just land out for miles, no matter what direction you looked in, so you slumped down and had a pity party again. This time, there was no fancy monologue or dramatic acting. It was just raw fear slowly filling up your heart, as you noticed the sun was starting to set.

“Oh, no.” Any hope in you withered at the sight of the sun dancing to the west. “No, no, no!”

You clasped your hands together and clamped your eyes shut. “Hey! Whoever the fuck is up there, or out there–I don’t care for the specificities right now–I am not your strongest soldier. If this is going to be 127 Hours: The Sequel, please just kill me now before a boulder rolls in and snaps half my arm off.”

A rolling tumbleweed was your only response.

A sigh escaped your lips and your shoulders drooped. “Well, I guess this is how I go—”

The roaring, unmistakable rev of a bike interrupted you, and you whipped your head around. Your eyes widened incredibly as you took in the sight in front of you. Bike was an understatement for the monster resting under a very hot rider; it was more of a superbike, or whatever a biker would call something that… scary. Its wheels were huge, and its black body glinted under the sun—grey steel complimenting it. There weren’t many details besides the blocky ’03 lining the second wheel, but its simplicity suited it. The bike in front of you was an absolute beauty.

And the biker? The biker was beauty transcended. He had short, auburn hair that framed the soft edges of his face, blurring them out to create a soft gleam over his face, while some other pieces of his hair curtained his face and smothered the piercing gaze of his dark brown eyes. His nose was long, sharp, and sloped; hooked at the very end to form a sharp curve just above his pouty lips. They formed two barely-noticeable, but adorable peaks, and his bottom lip rested softly against the shape of the top. The rest of his face was carved to the gods and his face was so smooth that you were almost sure he was made of glass. He raised one of his dark eyebrows and yelled, “Who are you and what are you doing out here?”

You swallowed and got to your feet in a daze. “Uh, I c-could ask you the same question.”

The hot biker got off his vehicle in one swift motion, and you nearly fainted from how much the action affected you. You took a step back, as he took two steps closer to you. He frowned at your response—eyes focused on your shoes—and took two more steps forward, prompting you to take two steps back. He repeated his movements, and you did too with a nervous smile on your face.

His gaze flickered between your feet and your eyes. “Am I scary? Jungwon’s always said I am, but I didn’t believe it till now.”

“Jungwon?”

“Oh.” The stranger took a step closer to you and scratched his chin in thought. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here.”

“Yeah, I just moved here for uni.” You nearly slapped your hand over your mouth the second the words left your mouth. It was almost like you were begging to get kidnapped, considering how you’d just told a criminal—a very hot one, but still a criminal—you’re unfamiliar with the area. Now, he was going to take the opportunity to kill you, harvest your organs, and probably sell them on the black market–and probably for a cheap price you were completely sure your organs were worth more than.

He didn’t do any of that. Instead, his eyes widened and a little smile formed on his lips. “Suwon National?”

You nodded rapidly, but then your eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute… how have I never seen you around campus before?”

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, and the movement drew your eyes to his clothes. You’d always thought bikers wore all black leather—to show off their bikerness or whatever—but this biker wasn't dressed like that. He was wearing plain, regular blue jeans with a white tank and a huge, red bomber jacket. There weren’t any tattoos on him either—at least, none you can see—causing you to blink in surprise.

You realised you’d missed his response when he laughed lightly, and his eyes crinkled up into little crescents. Avoiding his gaze, you asked, “Sorry, what was that?”

“I’m taking a gap year.” He shifted on his feet and glanced at the watch on his wrist. “I should probably get going, but it was good to—”

“Wait! You can’t leave,” you paused, realising how that sounds, and continued with a softer tone, “I got lost out here, and I need a way to get back to the city. Is there any way you could give me a ride?”

His eyes were apologetic before he even said anything, and you got a sinking feeling in your stomach. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t. I’ve got some races tonight, so I need to get ready.”

Swallowing deeply, you casted your eyes to the ground and nodded slowly. Tears were pricking the corners of your eyes, as fear filled your heart. Out of the corner of your eye, you could spot the sky blending into an orange hue and the sun dipping deeper along the horizon. You had to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from full-on crying in front of the hot biker.

“But,” he scratched his chin in thought again and you whipped your head up, “I can drive you to the tracks, and after the races, someone can probably drive you home.”

“R-really?” You were sure you looked stupid, gazing at a random stranger with hopeful, glossy eyes. And, you probably shouldn’t have gotten any closer to the actual races of Death Valley. But, being stranded out in the middle of nowhere would do a number on anyone, and—as you’d said earlier—you were not the strongest soldier.

“Sure.” He smiled widely and gestured to his bike. “I mean, as long as you don’t mind squeezing up there with me. My bike isn’t built for two people; sorry about that.”

You shook your head, wiped your cheeks, and laughed with relief. “Thank you so much… Wait, what’s your name?”

“Sunoo.” He made his way back to his bike, gingerly helping you get on it. It’s much higher than it looked apparently. “Yours?”

You waited for him to settle into his seat in front of you before you wrapped your hands around his waist. He revved once, turned back to smile at you, and quirked an eyebrow. “_____.”

Sunoo studied your face for a moment. “Well, _____, I suggest you hang on tight. Crabbers’s built for speed.”

He turned back to the front, revved again, and then you were off. Your hands instinctively tightened around his waist at the sudden feeling of being pulled forward, and he laughed in response. At first, your eyes were squeezed shut—you reasoned that if you were going to die by falling off a bike, you’d rather not witness it—and all you could feel was the rush of the wind against your ears. Then, with soft encouragement from Sunoo, you opened your eyes.

The sun was almost set, and the sky was a beautiful mixture of oranges, reds, and yellows. The terrain and the sky melted into one colour, as Sunoo sped along the empty expanse. Coupled with the wind blowing in your ears, and the roar of the bike, the whole experience was completely different from anything you could’ve imagined. But, it wasn’t unwelcome. No, instead, it made your heart pound in a good way and made you want to throw up your arms and whoop and yell. Riding a bike was nothing like you’d expected it to be, but you found yourself looking forward to your next ride.

Maybe Death Valley wasn’t so bad.

II – A Whole New World

Death Valley may not have been bad, but it was certainly scary. More specifically, its inhabitants were.

Sunoo was leading you through Death Valley’s Garage, where some bikers were getting ready for some races, and your knees were already shaking. His bike, Crabbers, might’ve been a monster, but he was a little monster, compared to the absolute beasts the bikers were examining. Some had handles that looked like they’re made for giants, some wheels could’ve probably knocked you out with one roll, and there were more mods that you hadn’t even known could be added to motorcycles. It was, like a friendly Disney princess once said, a whole new world.

What scared you the most, though, was the bikers. Some of them rocked the stereotypical biker look you had of bikers in your head—leather jackets or vests, bare and chiselled chests or low-dipping tanks made to reveal cleavage, dark leather pants, combat boots, and tattoos everywhere. Some didn’t and had different tastes. Others had a mix of leather and boots, along with other elements you’d never thought bikers would wear—like a neon pink tank you’d spotted on a particularly smiley biker. But, what they all shared was varying degrees of intimidation on their faces. It could’ve been because you were in a new environment and you were scared, but you were almost certain they were all glaring at you.

“Why do you look so scared?”

You nearly jumped at the sound of Sunoo’s voice from right next to your ear. Shooting him a sharp glare, you responded, “I’m not scared.”

He moved his face from right beside yours and laughed. “You so are. You looked like you were about to faint when you saw Taehyun.”

“Taehyun?”

He jabbed a thumb in the direction of a muscular man in one of the corners of the garage. He was one of the people sporting the stereotypical biker attire—but a more extreme version of it. Taehyun was shirtless and had a pair of leather shorts on. There was a towel placed around his neck and his muscles bulged and shifted around, as he helped someone else with their bike. You had to avert your gaze to stop yourself from passing out right then and there.

Noticing your reaction, Sunoo smiled teasingly. “Taehyun’s one of our mechanics. He usually sticks to the cars, but both the racers and bikers are using these tracks for the races today since this isn’t a formal event.”

You nodded along to his every word but paused at the end. “Not a formal event? What’s this then?”

The smile on Sunoo’s face grew and his lips met the shell of your ear again. He whispered, “You’ll see.”

For a moment, you were undeniably flustered. The next, you slapped Sunoo’s chest and rolled your eyes, while putting a considerable distance between you two. You crossed your arms over your chest, the sound of his laughter loud and clear. “I’m here to find a ride home, not flirt. Behave, Mr. Kim!”

“Mr. Kim?” He raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk spreading on his lips. “I like that.”

You groaned. “You’re like an annoying little brother. Well—more like a friend’s little brother, who hits on you just because he’s starting to get a little attention.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m older than you, so the whole scenario cancels out. Also, that is extremely specific, and you don’t seem like the type of person who’s experienced that.”

“I don’t care if you’re older than—Wait a minute! I so have.”

Sunoo threw his head back in laughter, and you stopped and stared at him with the fiercest glare you could muster. You were determined to stay mildly annoyed at him, but his laughter was contagious and your lips started to twitch up into a smile. He may have been one of the most annoying people you’d ever met, but he was also one of the most endearingly annoying people you’ve met.

He sobered up from his laughter with a sigh and put on a tour guide voice, “Good evening, folks—well, folk. I’m Kim Sunwoo and I’ll be guiding you around the infamous Death Valley Garage. During this tour, you’ll be able to familiarise yourself with the bikes, the people who ride them, and some basic motorcycle terms. So, let’s—”

At that moment, your stomach growled loudly, and both you and Sunoo blinked at it for a few seconds. Then, you offered him a sheepish smile and he returned one of his own.

“I was getting a bit ahead of myself, wasn’t I?” Sunoo scratched the back of his head, while you shook your head profusely. “You’re probably starving after being out there for God knows how long.”

You shook your head again, with an embarrassed smile on your face, only for your stomach to growl again. Scowling, you spared your stomach a fierce glare, before looking up at Sunoo’s amused face. “My stomach’s a bit dramatic. I’m not that hungry… but it would be nice if I could eat something.”

He whispered, “Your stomach seems to take after you.”

“Sorry?” You levelled your glare in his direction.

“Nothing.” He threw his hands up in surrender at your gaze and pretended to busy himself with his watch. Then, he actually noticed the time and let out a horrified screech. “Oh, no! _____, I’m late again! Jake’s going to eat me.”

Right then, a vice grip latched onto his shoulder and you saw Sunoo visibly gulp.

The person behind him was a tall, lanky figure–so tall and lanky that you were almost convinced he was a phantom ghost. The all-white leather, which directly contrasted his long, dark hair, didn’t help with the image you had in your head at all. One of the only other things that stood out to you besides his hair was the mask that hid half of his face. It was a black, fabric one, with a blocky HOON printed on it, which you assumed was part of his name. There were also his eyes. His fierce eyes were enough to scare anyone. Right now, they were narrowed and focused on the back of Sunoo’s head, but you could still feel the full intensity of his gaze.

You gulped as well and mouthed a quiet ‘good luck.’

“Jake won’t eat you,” the person said, voice muffled by the mask, “but he definitely isn’t happy.”

Sunoo gulps again and turns around to face the scary man. “Sunghoon.”

“Sun—”

Before the man, Sunghoon, could even finish saying Sunoo’s name, your stomach growled again. This time, three pairs of eyes stared at it—two frantic ones and a confused one. You hoped and prayed with everything in you that the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

Sunoo, however, sighed with relief and pointed at your stomach accusingly. “Right, Sunghoon, I was just, I was just helping _____ out here and I lost track of time because of that ferocious beast.”

“What? You’re calling my stomach a ferocious beast? Have you not seen Crabbers?”

“Don’t bring Crabbers into—”

Sunghoon cleared his throat, and the two of you realised he was still right there and Sunoo was still very much in trouble. You took a step back from Sunoo, and he turned back to face Sunghoon.

The scary biker nodded in your direction. “It’s nice to meet you, _____. Good to see Sunoo finally has someone else to pester.”

“Excuse me?”

“But, I’m going to have to borrow him for a bit because he’s late.” He fixed Sunoo with a glare. “Again.”

You muffled a laugh when you heard something close to a whimper escape Sunoo’s mouth. “Of course, it’s no problem. I just need to know where I can get some food.”

The biker whipped his head around and stared at you with betrayal. He mouthed ‘traitor,’ and you just shrugged innocently in response.

There was a mischievous light in Sunghoon’s eyes, as he started steering Sunoo away from you. You couldn’t see it but you were almost sure there was a smirk on his face when he yelled, “Go to the shack at the other end of the garage. Tell the owner that our favourite cutie, Soonie, sent you to get a free meal!”

“Sunghoon!”

You couldn't hold back your laughter anymore, so you rushed off in the direction Sunghoon directed you in. Sunoo’s glare was burning holes through your back, but you blocked it out by skipping and humming to yourself. There was nothing but a door between you and your well-deserved meal, so it was easy for the biker’s dramatic huffs and puffs to fade into the background.

Death Valley’s inhabitants were scary, most definitely, but Sunoo was probably the least scary of them all.

III – Ms. Kim

Where Kim Sunwoo was lacking, his sister made up for it with ten times the quality.

You were sitting across from Kim Minjeong, “Winter,” and silently picking at the remains of the meal she’d served you. Seated under the shade of the shack, you’d tried not to shiver under her intense gaze—and if you did, you blamed it on the fans positioned close to you. Instead of returning her gaze, you focused on the structure around you.

True to its name, the shack was really just a shack. It was small, had no name adorned on it, and Winter was the only person manning it. There was a spacious, plastic counter separating you and her, and high chairs lined your side for customers—like yourself—to sit on. The inside of the shack was dimly lit, and you couldn’t see too much of what was on the other side, so all you could do was stare at the menu in front of you. It was either that or trembling like a baby in front of Sunoo’s sister, so you went with the former.

The brunette was quiet, serious, and very, very scary. Her personality was a polar opposite from the dramatic and whiny biker, and you couldn’t help but notice the differences between them. The only trait they seemed to share was their mischievousness, seeing as she’d had a good laugh for a couple of minutes when you’d given her Sunoo’s nickname.

“Are you scared of me?”

Your eyes widened at the sound of her question, and you whipped your head up from your plate. Your eyes widened even more when you realised her face was not too far from yours and there was a small smirk on her red lips. Clearing your throat, you shimmied a bit away from the counter. “N-no. Not at all, no.”

She picked up on your nerves and smiled a little. Moving around to prepare a drink with a name too long for you to remember, she said, “I’m not a scary person. Honestly, most of the people here aren’t. I get why you would think that—illegal racing doesn’t exactly have the best reputation—but just think of us as members of a little club.”

“A club? So, that means anyone can join?” You rested your chin on one of your hands.

“Yeah,” Winter mixed the drink in a strainer, “But, you can’t just say you want to race and get in. You have to try out first. Oh—and you have to get past Jake’s… radar, for the lack of a better word.”

At the sound of the name, your ears perked up. He was the same person Sunoo had said would eat him, and from what you’d heard of him, he didn’t sound like the nicest person ever. A tall, muscular biker with a harsh gaze appeared in your mind, and you shivered at the image of him you’ve conjured.

Winter noticed your response and laughed. “I’m assuming you’ve heard some other things about Jake.”

You nodded. “He sounds scary.”

“He’s not.” Winter snorted, pouring the drink she’s been mixing in a tall glass, and added a straw to it. She slid it over to you. “He’s just a bit strict about things and has a nasty temper.”

“Strict?” You tentatively swirled the drink around in its glass, admiring the way the sun’s ray compliments its yellow hue, before taking a sip. It was sweet, citrusy, and reminded you of the long stretch of the beach on a warm summer day. You could practically hear the waves crashing against the shore when you asked, “So, there are rules around this place?”

“Of course, there are. If they weren’t in place, half the people here would already be behind bars.” She smirked a little at your wide eyes. “What? You think these kids know how to keep themselves in check?”

“I mean, no,” you paused to take a sip, “but when I think of criminals I think of, like, the drug dealing, and murders, and, I don’t know, the big, bad criminal stuff. Not, rules.”

Winter bursted into laughter, eyes scrunched up and head thrown back. Calming down from her laughter, she wiped a tear from her eye and took a deep breath in. “You’re very funny, ____. I see why Sunoo likes you.”

“Thank you?” You finished off your drink with a loud sip and relaxed into your seat. You were already feeling fuzzy and warm, and the tension you’d felt when you first got here was ebbing away. Resting your chin on both hands now, you leaned in closer to Winter. “Y’know, I like you, Ms. Kim. Very straight and simple to the point.”

“Very straight and simple to the point?” She chuckled at your mistake, as you spluttered in embarrassment, and pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “That’s kinda ironic.”

“Hm? And why is—”

The rest of your question was cut off by the entrance of a woman. Judging from the helmet in the crook of her arm, and some of her stereotypical attire, she was a racer. She walked in with a pep in her step–her long, dark hair bouncing behind her with her movements–and somehow captivated your eye. You were about to ask Winter to introduce you to her—liquor made you bold apparently—when she leaned in and planted a kiss on the barista’s lips.

“Oh.” You averted your eyes from the two of them, giving them a bit of privacy, as Winter’s previous words sunk in. A laugh escaped your mouth. “It is kinda ironic.”

The racer pulled away from Winter at your words and extended a hand in your direction, a soft smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Karina.”

“_____.” Thrusting your hand into hers, you noticed how warm it was and the tight grip of her hand. She was the type of racer you’d imagined when Heeseung had first told you about Death Valley, so you giggled nervously and blurted out, “You don’t have coke in your car, right?”

Karina and Winter blinked at you blankly for a few seconds before they burst into laughter. You laughed along nervously until Heeseung’s wide eyes appeared in your mind, and you cleared your throat. As the two regained their composure, taking on more serious looks on their faces, the same tinge of fear you’d felt back in the garage resurfaced. You laughed again nervously.

“Yes, there are a good couple grams of the stuff in the trunk,” Karina deadpanned. “You want some?”

“N-No. I’d like to keep my head attached to the rest of my body, thank you very much.”

A pause followed, and then Karina let out a sharp, “What?”

“I think Heeseung might’ve gone a bit overboard with his mumbo jumbo.” It was supposed to be a whisper meant for Karina’s ears only, but you picked up on Winter’s words and barely held back a gasp. “_____’s been scared shitless this entire time, and that pesky man probably has something to do with that.”

The racer nodded and smiled reassuringly in your direction. “I was being sarcastic. Even if I wanted to do coke, Jake runs routine checks for hard drugs. We’re only allowed alcohol and weed.”

“Uh, huh.” You nodded along to her words but made a mental note to never get near any of the racers’ cars—just in case. “But, what’s this about Heeseung? How do you even know him?”

Karina and Winter exchanged glances, before Karina whispered something in Winter’s ear and slinked out of the back of the shack. Your eyes followed her as she left, and she turned back to give you one last smile. You were about to return it when Winter cleared her throat. She gave you a knowing look, and you smiled guiltily.

“Heeseung is uh… Well, it’d be best if he explained it himself.” Winter picked up your empty glass and disappeared into the dimly lit part of the shack. When she returned, she had a pair of keys in her hand and a smirk on her face. “He’ll be here in a couple of minutes, so I’ve got to get going. It was great meeting you, _____.”

“He’s here?” Your tone was incredulous, but you couldn’t help it. You two couldn’t be talking about the same Lee Heeseung who’d looked like he was about to wet his pants when he’d told you about Death Valley. From his franticness alone, you could’ve sworn he’d never be caught dead anywhere near this place. “What do you mean he’s here?”

Winter winked. “You’ll see.”

Then, she took off in the same direction as Karina, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Lee Heeseung? Here? That didn’t make any sense. ‘Lee Heeseung at Death Valley’ was practically an oxymoron because everything Death Valley stood for was what Heeseung had warned you against. It wasn’t easy for you to just forget how wide and shaky his eyes had been, and the urgency that’d been in his voice. And, even if you somehow could, acknowledging what Winter had said would’ve made you focus on the thought that bothered you the most; if Heeseung was here, then what did that mean?

You shook your head. “She’s probably got the wrong Heeseung.”

The notion soothed you a bit and managed to quell the chaos in your mind, so you laid back and sighed. A quick nap, before meeting the totally-not-Lee-Heeseung Heeseung sounded very appetising to you, and your body seemed to agree as it didn’t take you long to fall asleep.

The last thing you thought of before you were deeply asleep was a completely ridiculous image of Lee Heeseung riding a motorcycle.

IV – Totally-Not-Lee-Heeseung Heeseung

Winter had not had the wrong Heeseung. Oh, but how you wish she had.

Standing in front of you, in the flesh, was Lee Heeseung. His ash brown hair was fully visible to you, as it wasn’t being hidden under a beanie for once, and was unruly styled. Multiple strands fell in front of his eyes and framed his face, adding an edge to his face that wasn’t there before. Instead of a comfy, matching set of a hoodie and sweatpants, he was wearing a pair of dark leather pants, a black dress shirt with enough buttons left undone to leave little to the imagination, and army boots that give him a little more height. He was trying to catch his breath, as beads of sweat ran down the side of his face, and all you could do was blink at him with your mouth hanging open.

Leaning back to wipe the sweat off his forehead, he let out a loud laugh and winked. “You should probably close your mouth. We wouldn’t want you to catch flies, now, would we, dear _____?”

“Shut up.” Your mouth was closed now, and you had the fiercest glare you could muster on your face instead. Getting up from your seat by the shack and stalking close to Heeseung, you crossed your arms over your chest with as much intimidation you could put into the action. “Lee Heeseung, you have less than five minutes to explain what the hell you’re doing here, before I dice you up into a little, Death Valley kebab.”

He smiled a little and raised his hands. “_____, I know you’re mad but—”

You snorted.

“Okay, more than mad but,” Heeseung scratched the back of his head, “well, it’s business.”

“Business?” You took a step closer, causing the brunet to take a step back. “What type of business makes you lie to people so that they think everyone at an illegal racing ring is going to kill them?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds horrible.”

You increased the intensity of your glare.

“Well, it is! But, it really is business.” He took a step back and raised his hands before you could get closer to him. “I’m Death Valley’s bookie and PR manager. A while ago, Jake decided I should use reverse psychology to recruit watchers and racers and well, it worked better than expected. Apparently, it’s in human nature to see how much shit we can get into without dying. I don’t know, something like that, but that’s what I understood from what he said. He talks a lot.”

Jake. That name seemed to keep popping up everywhere, only adding more details to the very scary image you had of the individual. At this point, you would do anything, if it meant you didn’t have to come across him at any point in time, because you’d prefer to go home in one piece with your heart and sanity intact.

Humming, you raised an eyebrow. “So, the whole innocent, scaredy-cat thing was an act? That was all to trick my puny, little human brain into coming here?”

He nodded, a cocky grin on his face. “Of course, _____. I’m a great actor, and there’s absolutely nothing in the world that can—”

“Oh, my—Heeseung, a spider’s crawling up your leg!”

Immediately, Heeseung screamed and jumped away from his spot, and you were barely able to hold back your laughter. He frantically checked where he’d been standing, cursing all spiders underneath his breath while he did, and finally sighed when he couldn't find anything at all. Then, his eyes widened, and he whipped his head up to you. He tried to hide it but there was a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he pointed an accusing finger at you.

“Hey! That’s—th-that’s…” he spotted the laugh you were trying to hide and flushed further, “that’s just an example of my acting skills! Mhm!”

“Totally, Hee. You deserve an Oscar for that performance. I’m honoured to have witnessed it,” you deadpanned. You clapped slowly, as Heeseung’s face just got redder and redder with embarrassment.

The flush in his cheeks cooled slightly, while he scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, I deserved that. And, more than that.”

Nodding, you ushered him to continue.

“And, well, I probably shouldn’t have gone overboard with the… the advertising, even if it was funny to see your gullible reaction.”

A sharp glare.

“But, that’s beside the point! I shouldn’t have lied about the coke and cops and everything else.” He was avoiding your eyes at this point, the only thing keeping him from bowing at a sharp ninety-degree angle being his last shred of pride.

Arms still crossed and face stoic, you took a few steps closer to him. You glared down at him in silence for a few moments, before you conceded. As much as you would’ve liked to remind him that you’d thought you were going to die—which may or may not have been avoided if you’d taken Heeseung’s words with even the tiniest speck of salt—you had to find a way out of the ‘Valley, and Heeseung was looking like a promising prospect.

You nodded. “I mean, I guess I forgive you.”

“You guess?” His eyes finally met yours, and they were wide with incredulity.

“Well, you see, Heeseung. Since someone subconsciously tricked me into getting lost out in the middle of nowhere, so conveniently close to illegal racing tracks and hours away from the city, I don’t have any way to get home!”

Heeseung’s eyes grew wider, and there was some guilt hiding behind his shock. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.”

A heavy silence fell between the two of you, as you processed the panic you’d felt bubbling up inside you the past couple hours and he… well, at least, seemed to appear deeply guilty for what had happened. It felt like the silence was going to stretch on for a couple more minutes when Heeseung perked up and made a loud noise of excitement. He closed the distance between you two and took a firm grip of your shoulders, a wide smile on his face. “_____, I think I’ve found the perfect solution to your problem.”

Instantly, your arms unfolded, and any sign of hostility fell from your face. “Really? Do you have a spare bike lying around somewhere that I can ride?”

“No,” he said flatly, with a disapproving parent look on his face, “Even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you because one; I don’t want blood on my hands and two; I don’t want your blood on my hands because I feel like you would hold it over my head for the rest of my life.”

“True, true.” You stepped closer to him and raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

A slow smirk took over Heeseung’s lips, and you suddenly became very aware of the lack of space between you and him. As you stared into his eyes, you could feel some tension charging the air, and something within you stirred with excitement.

The brunet’s breath fanned over your lips as he whispered, “How do you feel about a bet?”

V – Niki’s Puppy

Death Valley was home to some of the most peculiar people you’ve ever met. There was Sunoo, who harboured a strange love for his vehicle, Heeseung, the PR manager with questionable morals, and the Jake figure who you hadn’t met yet—and never wanted to, if you wanted to go home in one piece. But, the two individuals in front of you had your brows furrowing narrower than they had the entire day and your jaw hanging fully open.

The first thing that caught your eye was the taller figure’s attire. He was wearing a leopard print dress shirt with a singular button undone, a plain pair of black leather jeans, and a huge, tan fur coat. His eyes were covered with a bulky pair of dark sunglasses, his fingers were adorned with colourful bejewelled rings, and his blonde hair was cropped and styled in a way that reminded you of a stereotypical mob boss. Along with his attire, there was an air around him that exuded dirty money, illegal dealings, and everything else that came with the two.

The second thing that caught your eye was the collar on the brunet behind him. It contrasted heavily against the rest of his plain outfit—a grey tank, standard blue jeans, and a basic pair of sneakers. The collar was pink, glittery, and signed with the words ‘Niki’s Puppy.’ The wearer seemed more than unhappy to wear it, but it was on him anyway—which was the main reason your eyebrows were digging creases in your forehead.

“Jungwon lost a bet again?”

Ripping your eyes away from the strange duo, you glanced at the bookie next to you with incredulously wide eyes. His face was relaxed, exasperated almost, like there wasn’t a literal mob boss and his… puppy standing in front of you.

You faced him, jabbing a thumb in their direction, and whisper-yelled, “Am I the only one who’s confused here? Or, is this some normal Death Valley occurrence?”

“Is this normal? No. But, it happens often enough for everyone around here to get used to it.” Heeseung gestured at the throng of people finding their seats along the gravel tracks.

Exactly like he’d said, no one was stopping to stare at the two with a slack jaw like you were, so you closed your mouth and cleared your throat. “But, but—how?”

“I am right here,” the Mob Boss said, and you could imagine him rolling his eyes behind his shades. “And, I am not a ‘this.’ I’m Nishimura Riki, aka Ni-ki, aka Death Valley's Designated Number One Biker–trademarked. But, you can call me nothing because I do not wish to be perceived by the likes of you.”

“The likes of me?” The creases in your forehead were now filled with a hint of offence, and the sound of Heeseung’s laughter didn't help. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He held up his hands and gazed at the multiple gems on them instead of responding, causing Heeseung’s laughter to continue. Even the apathetic ‘puppy’ behind him had a ghost of a grin on his lips that didn’t express much but still managed to rile you up a bit.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Heeseung, why am I here in front of this—this phoney drug lord and his… pet?”

Niki let out a scoff, and a little chortle escaped the lips of the man behind him.

Sparing Heeseung a glance from the corner of your eye, you could tell he was trying to keep his laughter in at the sight of Niki’s obvious pout. The gesture soothed you a little, and you lowered the intensity of your glare. You didn't lower it completely, though—the Mob Boss’s insult had stung more than you’d like to admit.

The bookie extended a hand in your direction and the other in the duo’s direction. “_____, meet Niki and Jungwon. Niki and Jungwon, meet _____. These two will be your personal escorts for the night and will also check to see if you’re lying about the results of the bet or not.”

Right. The bet. You’d nearly forgotten about it, with all the chaos going on around you, but now the terms of the bet were clear as day in your mind. It was a simple bet—one that favoured you no matter the outcome. If you weren’t the least bit entertained by the first race that was about to start, Heeseung would have to leave early–missing the second and third race–to drive you home. If you were entertained, however, you'd have to wait for all three races to end for him to find a racer—yes, a car racer, the people you had promised yourself you’d stay away from—to get you home. Either way, you would end up with a favourable outcome, but you had an incredibly competitive spirit. And Niki, despite annoying you, was certainly adding fuel to the fire burning within you.

It was your turn to smirk, as Niki started complaining about the whole ordeal to Heeseung, but you tuned him out as you imagined your incredibly smug–and incredibly embarrassing–victory dance you were going to put on. The taste of victory was already on the tip of your tongue and nobody, not even Niki, could get in your way.

VI – Mr. Nishimura’s 43%

Correction: Niki couldn’t get in your way, but he certainly tried.

As Jungwon and Niki had led you to a set of bleachers close to the tracks, there’d been palpable tension in the air. Unlike the tension between you and Heeseung that’d been charged by some form of unidentifiable electricity, that tension had been charged by Niki’s sharp glare on your back. When you’d tripped on your way to the lowest bleacher, you’d been convinced it had something to do with the whiny Mob Boss and that was just a taste of what he had planned in store for you.

Were you scared he was going to kill you before the night ended? Yes, most definitely. But, were you a petty person with a strange need to prove people wrong? Also, yes.

So, instead of letting his glower and haughty attitude get to you, you decided to strike up a conversation with the two of them. You yelled, loud enough to be heard over the chatter and intermittent bike revs, “So, Heeseung mentioned a bet?”

Sitting on the bleacher right behind yours, you could hear Niki’s exasperated sigh. He still relented, probably because he didn’t mind the attention, and mumbled, “Jungwon bet that I would fail my Math CSAT with less than 40%.”

You held back a snort, barely. “So, you didn’t fail?”

“Nope!” His voice was cheery—finally clear of the previous contempt that had been there, but the irony wasn’t lost on you. The snort escaped. “I failed with a 43%.”

“So, let me just get this straight,” another snort, “Jungwon is wearing that collar because you failed your Math CSAT with 3% more than he bet?”

“Mhm. He also has to address me like I’m his boss!”

“And, is this a regular occurrence?”

“I mean, he doesn’t always bet on my test grades, but he always loses.” Niki laughed heartily, and his age shined through as he said, “That’s kinda lame, don’t you think?”

Before you could even respond, the subject himself interrupted you two with a harsh cough. “The race’s starting, Mr. Nishimura.”

The low rumble of several bikes revving at the same time drew your attention back to the tracks and, true to Jungwon’s word, the bikers were getting ready. The tracks held multiple lanes, and about a dozen racers were walking their monstrous bikes to the starting line. Of the dozen racers, you recognised Winter, who winked at you when you waved and yelled, and Sunghoon. They, along with the others, were gearing themselves up with their helmets and other safety wear, moments away from participating in the first illegal race you were ever going to witness.

The crowd was watching the bikers as well, hooting and cheering for different people. All their yells melted into one supportive chant that had your heart beating along to their tune, pumping adrenaline all the while. It was hard to breathe with all the exhaust in the air, and the lack of air conditioning had you sweating buckets, but you pushed all that to the back of your mind. The race was about to start and something was telling you it was going to be a life-changing event to witness.

Niki tapped your back, startling you out of the excitement building up inside you. You didn’t have to turn around to see the smirk on his face as he said, “Remember, _____, there’s a bet going on. Crack even the slightest smile, and you’re kissing victory away.”

You gulped slightly and took a few, deep breaths, preparing yourself for what might just be the hardest thing you’d ever do.

VII – Death Valley’s Ace

“Well?”

The race was over and, just as you’d thought, it’d been quite a life-changing experience. It’d started and finished in less than ten minutes, but it had felt longer as time stretched on with every turn of the wheels. Winter, Sunghoon, and one other biker had taken the lead the entire time, which had eventually turned into Winter and Sunghoon fighting toe to toe. Finally, Winter took home the winner’s title after an impressive acceleration past the finish line. The utter happiness that had stretched her lips as she’d embraced Karina resonated within you, but—being the competitive person you were—you’d kept all of that, and any other emotion, tucked deep down inside.

However, Niki had the eye of a hawk on you the entire time, and you weren’t sure if your stoic, disinterested acting had been enough to convince him.

So, here you stood, gaze bouncing between the student and the bookie, waiting for Niki’s judgement with bated breath.

Really, you were fine with either outcome, but the certain look on Heeseung’s face when you’d struck the bet and Niki’s jabs throughout the race had fuelled a determination to win that surprised you. Now, the intense feeling of all or nothing had your heart racing and your palms sweating. Could you survive if you didn’t win? Hypothetically, yes. But, then, everybody would have to suffer through your second rendition of Shakespeare and you didn’t think anyone wanted that.

You bit your lower lip, as Niki began to speak.

“_____ wins.”

For a moment, both you and Heeseung were frozen with shock, and then you blinked once, twice, and let out a big whoop. Next, you subjected Niki, Heeseung, Jungwon, and anyone within your vicinity to the horribly lame, but well deserved, victory dance you came up with earlier. While everyone cringed visibly, the fire in you was finally quenched and you could look forward to the rest of the races with less nerves.

At least, that’d what you thought, until Heeseung sighed and pulled out a ring of keys. “Well… I guess I’ve gotta drive you home now.”

You froze again, this time remembering all the terms of the bet. So caught up in your need to win, you’d forgotten that Heeseung would drive you home if you won. And, you had won, so that was what he was supposed to do. Except…

“Uhm, Heeseung.”

He hummed a response, avoiding your gaze by fanning himself with his hand.

“You don’t have to drive me home—well, at least not now.”

Heeseung fixed you with incredulous eyes, Niki’s gaze was obviously on you despite his tinted shades, while Jungwon laughed to himself. You realised, partly in horror, that he knew you’d beenacting all along. Naturally, you expected him to say anything, but he stayed quiet, watching Heeseung and Niki freak out beside him.

“But, you can’t!” Niki pointed at you, with a firm frown on his lips. “A bet’s a bet, and you can’t break the rules. You won, unfortunately, so now Heeseung has to drive you home. That’s how bets work, _____, in case you weren’t aware.”

Heeseung recovered from his shock quick enough to say, “I mean, there weren’t any witnesses when we struck the bet, so… And it’s not like we shook on it or anything.”

The student shook his head in disapproval and muttered, “Typical Heeseung.”

“Oh, shut up,” Heeseung’s eyes widened with a realisation, and he was so excited he looked like he was about to explode, “This means I can finally hand Sunoo’s ass to him. Hell yeah!”

“Sunoo’s racing?”

His eyes widened once again with another realisation, one that caused him to whisper something in Jungwon’s ear and rush off in the direction of the garage. Niki’s look of disapproval followed him all the way there, while Jungwon gave a little wave.

You raised an eyebrow. “Where’s he going?”

For the second time that night, Jungwon spoke, but it was a low murmur of, “To get ready for the second race. And, to kick some ass.”

Niki frowned at Jungwon, probably because he broke one of the terms of their bet by speaking of his own volition, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he rested a hand on his hip and sighed tiredly, “The second race is just a bunch of losers trying to one-up each other. They do it all the time, even though there’s only ever been one winner.”

“One winner.” Behind Jungwon and Niki, most of the crowd was dispersing in the direction of the exit. The only people left were Karina, Winter, Taehyun, and some other mechanics. Most of them were either sitting on the bleachers and jeering some bikers on from the sides or conversing between themselves. Your gaze travelled back to the duo, asking distractedly, “And who may that be?”

“Park Jong—”

“Jay,” Jungwon said, cutting off Niki with a ghost of a smile hovering on his lips. His eyes remained focused on you, ignoring the irritated blond beside him. “Jay Park; Death Valley’s ace. He can bike, he can race, he can dance, he can sing—he can do it all. And, he does it all with a cheerful smile on his face and hearts in his eyes that rival the most lovestruck anime lead. Striking the hearts of everyone, he wins race after race and reminds bikers everywhere that, while he’s around, there will be no other ace. Why? Because the one true ace is Park Jongseong.”

You almost expected a drop-dead gorgeous man to walk in after that monologue with long, wavy hair flowing behind him and a heart-wrenching OST playing in the background. But no one walked up behind Jungwon, much to your dismay, and you spared his blank face a glance. “You would make a good news presenter. Or, an entertaining emcee. Ever considered a career in either?"

He nodded shortly and smiled a little, sneaking a glance in Niki’s direction. “I’m actually the emcee for tonight.”

“What? But, Jake said—”

Almost like someone up there enjoyed toying with Niki and his feelings, the roar of a loud bike interrupted him. Time slowed a bit, as the three of you threw a glance in the direction of the tracks and spotted the appearance of a new person. They were seated on a motorcycle that oddly resembled the one from Grease, with some modern twists on it. The body of a classic Honda CL77 had been heavily modified to accommodate larger-than-life tyres, high handles, and an engine with the roar of a lion—not to mention the other mods you weren’t sure were totally legal. The biker, themselves, was clearly out of breath, resting on the handles of the bike as they tried to somewhat catch their breath. Then, with a heavy inhale, they raised their head, flipped the visor of their helmet, and yelled, “Sorry I’m late! Lecture ran a bit long.”

Then, you blinked and it was like time was back to normal. Some of the other bikers approached the newcomer with large smiles on their faces, others waved, while you were standing next to Jungwon and Niki with wide eyes. The biker removed their helmet, revealing a short mane of dirty blond hair, and you swallowed visibly.

Your thumb shook a little, as you jabbed it in the biker’s direction. “Who is… who is that?”

Jungwon noticed your obvious… interest in the newcomer, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he cleared his throat and started, “Jay Park; Death Valley’s ace. He can bike, he can race—”

“We get it!” Niki flicked a strand of hair out of his line of sight, huffing, before crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you just eat his entire boot, while you’re licking it, hmm?”

“Are you jealous?” Jungwon raised an eyebrow, face otherwise blank.

“No.” He shifted his weight onto his right foot, and you could imagine an eye roll behind his glasses. “I’m really not. I just think I should be the one you’re talking about like that since you lost the bet and all.”

The brunet smirked. “So, you’re jealous?”

“Oh, my—I am not jealous. I,” he faltered, realising how worked up he was getting and cleared his throat with a dismissal wave of his hand, “You should go get in the booth. Jay and Heeseung will be ready soon.”

Even though Jungwon snorted, he didn’t comment further on the topic. Instead, he swivelled in your direction and cocked his head. “Well? Time to bet.”

“I think _____’s too busy ogling Jay to think straight at this point.”

You smacked Niki’s chest lightly, mumbling a low, “Shut up.”

He stared at his chest, blinking for a few moments, before he threw his head back with a dramatic sigh. “What did I ever do to deserve—”

“For the following Death Valley race, meant to serve as a display of duelling egos, the lineup will be the same as always,” Jungwon says dryly, cutting off the blonde. He ignored Niki’s gasp and continued, deadpanning, “That lineup consists of Sim Jaeyun, Park Sunghoon, Kim Sunwoo, Lee Heeseung, and Park Jongseong. As a newcomer, you’re required to bet to watch an informal race. Otherwise, I’ll have to kick you off the premises.”

“Really?”

“No,” he cracked a grin, “But I’ll blindfold you so you can’t see anything.”

You laughed nervously, eyes flitting in Niki’s direction. “Is he joking or…? I have a feeling he’s not joking.”

Niki shrugged, and you took that as a sign to start considering the lineup.

Out of all the names he’d mentioned, there wasn’t one you didn’t recognise. First, there was the infamous Jake—the man you’d heard so many rumours about that you’d just assumed he was some scary figure. Because of that, you mentally crossed him off your list without a second thought. Next, there was Sunghoon. While the few words you’d exchanged with him had been pleasant, you’d noticed how a few of his mistakes in the previous race had cost him victory. So, with that in mind, you crossed him off your list as well.

That left you with Sunoo, Heeseung, and Jay. All three seemed promising enough to win, judging from what you knew. Riding with Sunoo had given you a taste of his skills, skills you were sure would improve in an actual racing setting. Heeseung, while you hadn’t had any experience with his biking skills, seemed to have a lot of knowledge on motorcycles and their ins and outs. That was definitely promising, among a list of extremely skilled bikers. And Jay’s reputation clearly preceded him, judging from the way the duo had talked about him.

You massaged your temples, groaning. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to make such a hard decision in my life. This is too much for me.”

“Well,” Jungwon tsked a little, “Time’s ticking.”

You spared the tracks a glance one more time. Jay wasn’t there anymore; he’d probably disappeared off into the garage to get ready for the race. But, Heeseung was back, laughing loudly and boisterously with some of the bikers you didn’t recognise. Closer to the bleachers, Sunoo was receiving what looked like a scolding from Winter and Karina, obvious due to the red tinge to his ears. He caught your eye, flushing further when he realised someone was watching, and you laughed quietly to yourself.

Finally, you looked back at Jungwon, with your mind made up. You fished out a wad of money, placed it in Jungwon’s outstretched hand, and leaned in. A name slipped past your lips, raising Jungwon’s brows a little, but he still nodded and accepted your money without a comment.

A whisper of a name was all that was needed to get your heart racing like it’d been earlier. But, this time, there was no crowd—at least, not much of one. It was just a select group of people, the tracks, and some bikers. Despite that, your heart was still beating, like it was getting ready to jump out of your chest, and you were smiling widely.

Despite your initial resistance to Death Valley, you’d found yourself anticipating your second race featuring none other than Death Valley’s ace himself.

VIII – WatchMojo’s Top 10 Romantic K-Drama Moments

Just a few minutes later, all the bikers were lined up at the starting line and ready for the second race of the night. From your seat on the highest bleacher, next to a grumbling Niki, you had a clear view of the array of motorcycles and their riders. However, the people weren’t the ones who’d piqued your interest, the vehicles were. They were loud—even the ones with a gentle purr instead of a roar—bulky, and scary, and you loved it.

You loved it so much, in fact, that you nearly missed Jungwon’s introduction.

“Welcome once again to Death Valley: Uncensored; a bimonthly race where five bikers with inflated egos drive motorcycles around to see whose ego will be ridiculously inflated for the night!” Jungwon’s sardonic voice came from the speakers surrounding the bleachers, startling you for a moment.

As two of the bikers, Sunoo and Heeseung, glared at the booth a few metres behind you, you remembered that he was speaking into a mic up there and not hovering around you. A deep breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding in slowly escaped you.

“As usual, this is MC Jungwon—here to add some commentary to the sound of tyres turning.”

The sound of a bike revving followed his statement.

“Thank you for that,” he remarked dryly, cleared his throat, and continued, “Without further ado, let’s get into the introductions now.”

There was a bit of a buzz from the audience at that—some slow clapping, hollers, and even cheers. And, of course, a giant whoop from you as well.

Niki visibly cringed and put a noticeable distance between you and him. He grimaced, muttering, “What did I do to ever deserve this?”

“Hey, I—“

“Starting from the edge closest to the audience, we have the man who puts the ‘death’ in Death Valley. He has a dark gaze to match the strict persona he tries—but fails—to put on. His skills are impressive but not as impressive as his students who’ve surpassed him. Yes, give it up for… Sim Jake!”

All night, whenever you’d heard of Jake, you had conjured up an image of a tall, intimidating figure with insane muscles that could snap you in half in a heartbeat. However, the smiley man who flipped up his helmet’s visor to jokingly glare in the direction of the booth was not like that at all. Yes, his leather vest did reveal frightening biceps, but he was more toned than muscular and just not scary. You couldn’t even remember how you had found him scary, as something inside you melted over his gummy smile.

As if she’d been reading your mind, Winter smirked knowingly from the bleacher below yours. You returned an embarrassed grin.

“To Jake’s left, we have Mr. Fast and Furious. Fast to describe his speed and furious to describe his mood. The only thing that can make Mr. Furious a little less furious are a pair of skates and… well that’s it. He rides his bike with the grace of a swan and I wouldn’t be surprised if he twirled atop it one day. It’s Death Valley’s favourite glider—Park Sunghoon!”

Sunghoon, clad in all-black leather and a flipped down helmet visor, flipped Jungwon off and you swore you heard some muffled giggles from the other bikers. When he moved in their direction, though, the giggles quickly died down. You muffled a laugh of your own.

“Moving on quickly, next up is Death Valley’s drama queen himself. With the looks of royalty, and the temperament to match, he parades around like a monarch. That is, until Crabbers’s involved. Then, he’s the humblest servant with more than enough patience to serve. Mhm, it’s none other than Kim Sunwoo!”

Sunoo didn’t take much offence to his introduction. Instead, he gave a stiff wave, similar to the ones the royals gave, and nodded gravely in all directions. He only paused his dramatic imitation of monarchs to give his bike a friendly pat. Winter and Karina snorted audibly at his actions, causing him to cough slightly in embarrassment.

“Thank you so much for that, Your Majesty.” A short pause followed, filled with the bikers’ laughter and probably an eye-roll from Jungwon. “Then, we have Lee Heeseung. Yes, the sly and shady businessman with shadier business practices. Is he hiding some of our earnings from us? Probably. Will we ever find out? Only time will tell! Only Lee Heeseung can leave us with this much suspense.”

You’d already concluded that Heeseung was a shameless man, but his somewhat proud reaction further confirmed that. He nodded in acknowledgement, two hands placed over his chest, and a sharp glint in his eyes. Flipping down his visor, he gestured for the non-existent applause and cheers to come to an end with dismissive waves of his hand.

“Finally, last but not least, Park Jongseong!”

A stifling silence followed Jungwon’s enthusiastic shout, as the biker rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“This is when you’re supposed to clap. Clap.”

A slow clap rose from the audience and some of the bikers, while Jay continued to make flustered movements.

Meanwhile, Jungwon seemed to be satisfied with the applause and continued. “The man I’m about to introduce is a very important person. Not only is he one of the best bikers in the ‘Valley, but he can race, cook, dance, and sing as well. Even with his many talents, he chose to race and decided to grace our presence here. We should always be grateful to him for choosing such a… such a wonderful place, among all the other options out there. Give a big round of applause for Park Jongseong!”

This time, the claps were louder and more enthusiastic and even a few whoops were heard—from someone you would forever vehemently deny was you. The biker looked like he’s about to melt from all the praise Jungwon gave him, but your smitten self thought every bit of it was well-deserved.

But, you didn’t have much time to dwell on Jay’s adorable mannerisms because Jungwon swiftly segued into the main section of the introduction.

“Now, that we’re well acquainted with all the racers, we can get on with the main event of the night—the races. In the first race, the five participants will bike around the usual, circular track three times. Then, the winner and the closest runner-ups will go head to head in a car race around the tracks five times. As usual, the prize for these races is nothing, except bragging rights.” A snort escaped the audience at that. “Anyways, the race will begin soon. Racers, get ready.”

Even though there weren’t any prizes, the bikers checked and double-checked their motorcycles one last time like the race determined whether they lived after this night. It almost seemed like it truly was a life or death situation, considering the tense atmosphere in the air. But, really, it was nothing more than a friendly race between a group of close friends, making their actions seem a bit dramatic. You couldn’t say much though; just a few moments ago you’d lied about your emotions just to win an inconsequential bet.

And, you weren’t complaining either. Their serious nature charged the air with a certain type of electricity that built up an increasing amount of anticipation in you. Your hands were sweating in the best way, your heart was beating faster, and you couldn’t rip your eyes off the five bikers lined up. Was it a life or death situation? No. But, was your heart pounding like it was? Certainly.

Everyone around you seemed to catch onto the shift in the atmosphere—even Niki, who’d been disinterested the entire time. He leaned forward on his knees, as the last couple of bikers got back onto their bikes, lips pursed in anticipation. As Heeseung finally got on his vehicle, a blanket of silence settled over the bleachers.

The bikers were ready for the race, and so were you.

“At the sound of the horn, the race starts.”

A couple of bikes revved, and you wiped your sweaty hands against your thighs.

“Ready?”

Subconsciously, you nodded in response, gripping your thighs tighter.

“Set.”

There weren’t many seconds left now, but there was still time for your heart to considerably race up. Your eyes never left the tracks—they couldn’t, the rough gravel had a vice grip on you. You were so focused on waiting for the blare of the horn that your body froze. The only part of you that wasn’t left paralysed in anticipation was your hands, which repeatedly clenched and unclenched in their spot on your thighs. Even breathing felt wrong in the few moments leading up to the loud blow of the horn. You were biting your lower lip, nibbling away at the skin there. Just any second now, any second now, any sec—

The horn went off.

It was a loud sound that reverberated from the speakers surrounding you, shocking you for a moment. Then, your eyes snapped away from the gravel to the bikers speeding off on the track.

You couldn’t tell who was in the lead and who was lagging behind. To you, it was just a blur of tyres, cool steel, and the night sky blending into one dark body. It was a beautiful sight, watching them race off into the night without a care in the world. Even from your seat on the bleachers, you could taste the humid air on your tongue and feel the wind tickling the tips of your ears.

Just as they disappeared from your sight, probably off to race a part of the track further away from you, Jungwon’s voice came through the speakers. “And now, unexpectedly, Heeseung is in the lead! There’s quite some distance between him and the person behind him, Sunoo. These two seem like the most promising prospects for grand winners for now, with no signs of someone catching up to them.”

Where you were, aside from Jungwon’s narration, it was quiet. You were clenching your thighs, and biting your lower lip, even though all you could see was the starry sky. There wasn’t even the roar of a bike or two to remind you of the presence of the bikes. Yet, somehow, it still felt so… loud. It was almost like you were on a bike yourself, with the gentle and constant hum of the engine blaring in your ears. The wind wasn’t blowing, not in the slightest, but you could imagine its harsh drag against you as you rode a motorcycle beside the bikers. You almost snorted aloud at your thoughts, considering how you’d gone from fearing Death Valley and all it meant to imagining yourself in a race of your own.

So immersed in your thoughts, Jungwon’s urgent voice shocked you when he spoke again. Not like the horn had, but enough for you to yelp and earn a look from Niki.

“Oh—Oh! It seems that just as Heeseung and Sunoo are approaching the end of their first lap, a third racer’s closing in on them. It’s—wait a minute,” a few rustles came through while you all kept your eyes peeled for any sign of the third person, “Oh, wow, who would’ve—Coming up in third place is Jay!”

Just as Jungwon yelled it, the three of them came into view once again. It was hard to tell who was in the lead, no matter how hard you kept your eyes peeled. All you knew was that it was a close tie between who started their second lap first, as all you saw was a blur of greys and blacks crossing the finish line.

“Wow, I don’t think it’s ever been this close,” Niki yelled over the noise of the motorcycles.

All he received from you was a low hum. You were busy trying your best to keep up with the three, even as they got further and further away. You couldn’t help losing sight of them when they blended into the night sky once again. As they did, the remaining two started their second lap, Jungwon commented on it, but you were too busy thinking about who would win the race to pay attention at that point.

Your money—a small amount of your money, but still your money—was resting on the shoulders of one of those three. Similar to before, it wouldn’t really harm you if you lost those few notes, but, your wallet and you would prefer it if you held onto them for a bit longer. You started nervously biting your lower lip, anticipating the start of the third and final lap.

“... The trio in the lead are approaching the starting line once again! As they start their final lap, the race will get incredibly intense. All eyes will be on them, thoughts filled with the obvious question: Who will win? Will it be Heeseung? Sunoo? Jay? Time will only tell when—Oh, here they come!”

With the three nearing the starting line, it got louder once again. The sound of the tyres turning against the gravel, the explosive engines running, and some cheers from the crowd were all accompaniments to the last lap between the three. The loud pounding of your heart and the blood rushing in your ears were also accompaniments, which you were honestly surprised no one else could hear.

Your eyes were darting around quickly, you were worrying away at your bottom lip, and they crossed the starting line once again. This time, different from the other times, their individual bikes were easier to distinguish. Or, perhaps, your eyes were adjusting to recognise them. Either way, you finally noticed Heeseung was lagging behind Sunoo and Jay—something you hadn’t seen coming. However, Sunoo and Jay remained toe to toe for the most part. You were sure Jungwon was giving commentary about what you were seeing right now, and adding clarification, but you couldn’t focus on that. It was just you, the bikes, and the tracks. Everything else faded into the background, as their bikes blended into the sky for the last time this night.

A tap from Niki broke you from your haze, although reluctantly. You raised an eyebrow in question, still peeking at the tracks from the corner of your eye.

“Who did you bet on?” The blonde stroked his chin dramatically, smirking. “You seem nervous.”

“I’m not nervous, I just,” a quick glance at the tracks, “I’m just really immersed in the race.”

He didn’t budge though. Instead, he singsonged, “_____’s going to lose a bet. _____’s going to be a loser.”

“Shut up, I—”

“You bet on Sunoo, right?” He pouted in mock pity, before grinning widely. “You should’ve bet on Jay, you loser. Everyone knows he always wins.”

“I…” You trailed off slowly, as time seemed to slow down for the second time this night.

Everything was as clear as day to you. The smooth curves of Sunoo’s bike, the grey steel on Jay’s, the ripples of the wind against their loose clothing, and the chequered line they were racing towards. One moment, it seemed like they were head to head, almost an equal tie. Then, with a loud rev that rivalled the volume of the blood rushing in your ears, Jay accelerated across the finish line first.

With loud clapping, whoops, and a standing ovation from the audience, time returned to normal. Sunoo crossed the finish line probably not a second later, and so did Heeseung not too long after. Jungwon was saying something from the speakers, but you couldn’t hear all of that. You were just staring at Jay—somewhat amazed and somewhat terrified—with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Almost like he felt your eyes on him, he moved his head in your direction, and you freaked out immediately. He might not have even been staring at you, but you still made an effort to calm yourself down just in case he was.

The sound of Niki gagging interrupted you. “Oh, my God. Get a fucking room, please. I’ve been subjected to enough suffering for one day, _____, don’t make it worse.”

“I wasn’t even doing anything,” you retorted, but your words were chewed. In your mind, you were still replaying the moment when Jay had turned in your direction and internally swooning over it. Your eyes widened as you realised Niki’s judgemental gaze was still on your obviously flustered state, and you coughed. “Is staring at someone a crime now?”

“Actually, yes. I’m not the smartest person on Earth, but even I know staring at someone like that can be grounds for harassment. At least… I think.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Half our laws are fucked and the others aren’t even upheld properly.”

You nodded solemnly. “True.”

He nodded along with you, until he realised what he was doing and groaned. “Yes, but that’s not the point! Instead of staring at him like a creep, why don’t you go down there and congratulate him yourself?”

“Congratulate him?” Your eyes grew wide, whipping your head in Niki’s direction. “Uh, no, thank you. I’d rather admire his skills from here, a good distance away from him.”

“Why? Is it because you lost your money because you didn’t bet on him? And now you’re too embarrassed to face him?” There was a smug grin on his face and a teasing tone in his voice, and you’d never wanted to throttle someone more.

You smiled sweetly, clenching your teeth. “I didn’t lose my money. Actually, I—”

“_____!”

“Huh?” Your mouth worked faster than your brain, clearly, because you realised a second after your reply that the person who had called you was Jay himself. You stifled your gasp with a bite of your lower lip and settled for a short wave instead.

Niki giggled at your awkward movements, earning a slight smack from you. He groaned. “Hey, _____! You can’t hit me, I’m a minor.”

You snorted, turning in Niki’s direction, but you tried to hide it with a cough in case Jay was still looking. “That shit only works on Twitter, you idiot.”

Before he could respond with something, you felt a light tap on your back. For a few seconds, you were frozen, scared that Jay had somehow managed to creep up on you in a couple of seconds. Then, Niki, recognising your dilemma, told you it was Jungwon and you released a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in.

“Oh, my God, Jungwon,” you exhaled, turning around, “I was so scared you were Jay.”

“I’m not,” he deadpanned, “but it’s funny you mention Jay actually.”

With a smirk on your face, you raised your nose slightly in the air. “You’re here to give me my money back, right?”

He nodded, pulling out your notes from his jeans’ pocket, but there was a suspicious smile forming on his lips.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’” Jungwon feigned innocence, but the smile was still on his face.

You accepted your money with narrowed eyes. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Is there a catch? Hidden terms and conditions? That’s false advertising, you know? I can sue you with my… my three 5,000 won bills.”

His smile only grew wider, while he shrugged.

“No, you can’t just shrug like that! You have to tell me.”

“Well, since you practically begged to know, I’ll tell you.” He leaned in closer, cupping his hands around his mouth like he was telling you some sort of important secret. You leaned in as well, eyebrows furrowed. “Since Jay came late, no one bet on him except you. So, now, he’s convinced you’re a good luck charm and he wants you to ride with him for the final race. To secure his victory and all that.”

You paused. “Never mind, you didn’t have to tell me. I want to go back to before I knew that.”

Niki hummed. “So, that’s why Jay called you.”

“Yeah, I called you before that, but it’s like you have Jay tunnel vision or something.”

Niki giggled again, but you didn't smack him this time. Rather, you buried your head in your hands and slumped down into your seat. The scene was reminiscent of when you’d thought you were going to die in the abandoned subway and decided to have a meltdown before thinking of a way to get out of there. You could’ve laughed at the irony of how you’d come full circle in just a couple of hours, but you chose to mumble obscenities underneath your breath instead. It was way less productive, but much more cathartic and that was exactly what you needed.

However, Jungwon didn’t let you finish. He poked you halfway through and murmured, “You should probably look up, _____.”

“No,” your voice came off as a whine, but that was the least of your worries when your kinda-crush-but-not-really-because-you-only-met-him-a-few-minutes-ago wanted you to ride in his car with him, “I’m going to keep my face glued to my legs, and my ass glued to this bleacher for the rest of my life. Or, until the bleacher rusts and falls out from under me. I don’t know, whichever one comes first.”

“Uh, I think you should really look up. Like, now.”

“Mm-mm. I’m fine here.”

“_____, it’s—”

“_____, right? Is everything okay?”

That, specifically that voice, made you freeze. You’d only heard it twice before, from a distance and in a loud yell, but you could still recognise that deep timbre. Looking up into Jay’s dark eyes, filled with warmth and concern, confirmed your suspicions all at once.

Immediately, you unfroze—your eyes widened, your hands flailed, and you lost your balance on the bleacher.

Your stomach flipped and you squeezed your eyes shut, as you felt yourself falling backwards at a worrying speed. There was no railing to stop your fall, so it was just you hurtling towards the ground with your eyes closed.

That was, until a pair of toned arms wrapped around you, wrapping around your waist and supporting you from behind. Your eyes flew open, meeting Jay’s once again. You stifled a gasp.

The muscles of his arms were very apparent against you, tensing and flexing against the small of your back. His fingers, strained with the effort to keep you suspended midair, shifted across the tiny patch of skin that’d been exposed during your fall. He was pressed against you in other areas, body moulded to yours, as he kept moving his hold on you. You didn’t understand what he was doing—you were much more preoccupied with your near-death experience and now your drama-worthy rescue—until he murmured, “Grab my chest.”

Your brain short circuited.

You almost stammered out a confused question until your gaze finally left his eyes, and flickered down to the rest of his face. He was biting his lower lip furiously, jaw clenched and sweating buckets. Coupled with the way you could feel his arms shifting and tensing against you, you realised your weight was putting a strain on his arms. You almost felt embarrassed for it, and for being in this situation in the first place, but you also realised commenting on it wouldn’t help anything. Instead, you disregarded what he had said and looped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself close to him as you did.

Averting your eyes from his flushed face, you asked, “Is that better?”

He nodded, grunted, and muttered, “Brace yourself.”

In one huge movement, Jay tensed his arms against your back and pulled you forward. The change in position had you toppling again, this time forward, but he was ready. His arms never left your back, instead he used his hold on you to pull you against him. Slowly, his arms moved from low against your waist to circle you in a hug.

You felt his chest heaving against yours, probably from the effort he put into holding you up. But, he didn’t let you feel guilty for it at all, as he stepped back to stare earnestly into your eyes and asked, “Are you okay? Do you need anything? That could’ve been quite the fall.”

You were stunned, eyes still wide and shaky from the fall, and you couldn’t seem to muster any words.

But, of course, Niki always had something to say. Holding onto Jungwon, he pretended to throw up. “Jungwon, please, erase what I just had to witness from my eyes.”

“No can do.” The brunette shrugged off Niki’s hold from him, a grimace on his face. “I honestly wish I could though.”

“Uhm, hello?” You whipped your head in their direction, eyes narrowed. “Are we forgetting that I could’ve died back there?”

“You were not going to die, _____.” Niki rolled his eyes, gesturing towards the area behind the bleacher. “One, these bleachers aren’t that high off the ground. Two, there’s literal padding all around the ground in case people like you decide to lose their balance and re-enact a WatchMojo Top 10 Romantic K-Drama Moments.”

Jungwon nodded along to his words, while you spluttered quietly. The sentence you managed to put together was still somewhat disjointed, but it managed to get out properly and that was all that mattered. “Well, I-I, I thought I was going to die, so, same difference!”

“Not same difference, _____, it’s—”

Jay’s loud chuckle cut off Niki. The loud sound disrupted the two of you, eyes softening from their harsh glares at each other at the sight of the smile on his face. Instantly, you couldn’t even remember what you’d been arguing about with Niki, instead, his wide smile and scrunched-up eyes were all that were on your mind. A fond smile pulled at your lips, one you tried to smother, but failed.

Jungwon noticed it and snorted lightly. He mumbled, “So down bad that you’re playing limbo with the devil at this point.”

“Hm? I didn’t get that.” Jay’s eyes grew wide with confusion, and his expression had the same effect on you as the last one.

This time, you were more careful and hid your upturned lips, simultaneously clearing your throat. “An… inside joke.”

The look on Jungwon’s face said he was considering telling Jay the truth, but he just shook his head to himself and sighed instead. His gaze moved from you to Jay with an arched eyebrow. “Well, Jay? You came here for a reason, right?”

“Oh—right,” Jay somewhat sobered up from his laughter but there was still a soft smile on his face as he focused on you, “_____, I’m really thankful you bet on me. Honestly, I was kinda bummed out earlier cause I thought there’d be no one betting for me. So, thank you for that.”

His eyes were sparkling—with earnest, pure gratefulness—but, to you, stars were swirling in his eyes. They were plentiful and bright, shining brighter than any full moon could. You were sure you could’ve even connected the stars to form constellation upon constellation. His eyes, bright and starry, had quickly become your favourite feature of his, making it hard for you to avert yours before he caught onto your obvious fondness of him.

But, you managed and chewed out a soft, “Yeah, it’s no problem. I was actually trying to save my money, and you seemed like the best bet, so… yeah, I bet on you.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help, _____. Feel free to bet on me anytime! I can’t promise I’ll always win, but I can promise I’ll do better, knowing you bet on me.” He ended off with a flirty wink and a little bout of laughter, and you were sure you were about to melt into a puddle right there and then.

Niki groaned. “Oh, my God, please, for the love of God and everything good, get a room before I get one for you!”

“We’re not—”

“Sure.” Jay sneaked a sly glance your way, something shy of a bashful smirk on his lips. “I just need _____’s permission first. I can’t exactly whisk someone off into my car without warning, now, can I?”

Oh, right.

Just moments ago, Jungwon had told you why Jay had wanted to talk to you in the first place, but the entire nearly-dying thing and Jay’s arms around you and Jay’s eyes—Jay’s eyes—had managed to infiltrate your mind, pushing the memory of it away. But, now, you remembered. Jay, the very pretty man in front of you with stars in his eyes, wanted you, the average uni student with no filter who had mini-meltdowns at any minor inconvenience, to ride in his car with him because he believed you were good luck.

You literally couldn’t believe it.

Sensing your hesitation, Jay raised his hands up and clarified what he said. “I mean, not for anything weird or something like that! I’d just, if you’d be comfortable with it, like someone else in my car with me when I race. Kinda like a good luck charm, y’know? Only if you’re comfortable though.”

“I…” You trailed off, considering your options. On one hand, you could say no and go home with your heart intact. You’d never thought of yourself as a hopeless romantic or someone who believed in love at first sight, but if you stayed close to Jay for any longer, you would have to reconsider your perspective on love. Then, on the other hand, you could ride with Jay in a race and potentially have the experience of a lifetime.

You were about to make your decision when Niki let out a loud scoff. “_____’s going. No protesting, you’re going to thank me later. Both of you.”

“I was going to say yes, anyway,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, but there wasn’t much effort put into it.

Jay smiled, a sight you were getting used to seeing but somehow still couldn’t get enough of. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You returned a smile of your own, then cleared your throat and put on your best telemarketer voice. “For the small price of a million won, you can consider me your own lucky charm for the night. But, since you asked so nicely and you have a nice smile, I’ve decided to give you a full-price discount.”

“Well, lucky charm,” Jay extended his leather jacket-clad elbow to you with a crooked grin, mimicking a posh British voice, “I think it’d be best if you were introduced to our ride of the night, now, wouldn’t it?”

You locked elbows with him, a smile growing on your face. “Yes, I think that’d be best, Mr. Park.”

“Mr. Park?” He arched an eyebrow, leaning into your face. “Please, call me Jay.”

“And, you can call me—”

“Dead,” Niki grit through clenched teeth. “At least, that’s what you two will be if I have to watch this for any longer.”

Without another warning from Niki, elbows intertwined, you and Jay scurried off towards Death Valley’s Garage. A third race was waiting for Jay, ready to determine whether he would go home with the title of the grand winner or not, and you were more than ready for it as well.

IX – Expensive and Illegal

From all you’d seen of him, you had expected Park Jonseong to be a cocky biker with an ego larger than life, but he was nothing like that at all. You hadn’t been talking to him for long—the distance between the tracks and the car section of the Death Valley Garage wasn’t much—but you were already learning more about him. He was a second-year business management major at Suwon National as well, who had moved from Washington, USA for university. One thing had led to another and here he was now, the ace of a decently popular illegal biking ring. His softer, mellower personality—at least, compared to everyone else you’d met so far—was the complete contrast of what anyone would picture from that description, but somehow it fit him. The only part of his personality that fit the cocky biker image you had of him in your head was his tendency to crack flirty, but still bashfully ‘Jay’ jokes.

And that was all he was doing now. He was leading you through a separate part of Death Valley Garage, lined with cars you weren’t sure were legal, and cracking jokes all the while. Most of them were lame and cornier than anything, but seeing him smile was something you found yourself enjoying more and more.

Jay smiled particularly wide as he made his way to a sleek, grey car with a smooth and modern design. He patted the hood of the car gently, a fond look in his eyes, before looking back up at you. “Here’s our ride for the night.”

“Wow, it looks…” you trailed off, fully taking in the car.

It looked brand new and spotless, the top coat of paint still fresh and untouched by anything. The moon’s rays reflected off the shiny, glossy grey covering most of the car’s body, complimenting its cool hue. From where you were standing, you could see a few details Jay had probably added—a thin, black line tracing the edges of the car, a custom-made licence plate printed with his name, and a tiny print of something you couldn’t see along the inner border of the hood.

It screamed many things at you, but it mainly screamed two things. You spared Jay a glance. “It looks expensive and illegal.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it is—well, it was legal before I got it modded. It’s a newer model too, so it wasn’t easy getting my hands on it.”

Your eyes widened, as you whistled underneath your breath. “A newer model? You must be fucking loaded if you can afford this. How much does racing pay?”

“Actually, I got it from a race. Everyone bet their cars instead of money, and I won so now this baby’s mine.” He pulled out his key, pressing a button to unlock the car, which replied with a smooth beep. “I don’t think I ever raced as hard as I did that day. I mean, this is a 2021 edition of a Genesis G70 we’re talking about. The horsepower on this thing alone is insane, and…”

The rest of Jay’s words went in one ear and out the other. You didn’t mean to blank out, you were genuinely trying to pay attention to his words, but the terms he was using weren’t words you were used to at all. Instead of actually taking in his words, you nodded along to his words now and then, staring at his lips.

He paused, snapping you out of your daze. As you realised he’d caught onto your staring, a smug smirk stretched his lips. “Are you even listening to me?”

Suddenly, the floor was very interesting to look at, and you studied the skid marks on the concrete floor instead of Jay’s face. You mumbled, “No, but if it’s any consolation, you’re really pretty.”

“Hm, what was that?”

You considered repeating the words to him, but the faint sound of running engines and chatter reminded you of where you were. You shook your head and gestured for Jay to get into the car. “Ah, never mind. You have a race to get to, remember?”

Opening the driver’s door, he corrected you with a soft smile. “We have a race to get to. You’re my good luck charm, don’t forget that.”

A smile was itching to break out on your lips at that, but you resisted the urge and ducked into the passenger’s seat of the car instead.

Eyes widening, you marvelled immediately at the interior. Just like the exterior, it was mainly made of cool tones. Cream leather covered the seats, and even parts of the gears, complimenting the all-black controls in front of you. The same modern look the outside carried was maintained throughout the inside; the main touch-screen monitor and seamless buttons were just two, among many, of the gadgets the car held.

While you were admiring the interior, Jay slipped into the car, and you couldn’t help but think the design complimented him. His simple, yet effective outfit made of a plain, white tank, dark leather pants, and a dark leather jacket contrasted well against the car’s cream seats. And, then, his dark hair tinged with gold highlights complemented the touches of grey on the controls. He looked like he was in his element–he was in his element–checking and double-checking the height and position of his chair like it was something he’d been doing since he was born.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he had been doing this since he was born.

With a final adjustment of his chair, he buckled in and started the car with a simple press of a button. There wasn’t the roar you expected from a car this powerful, but the sound that followed was more of a soft hum. Along with it, the monitor came to life, a melodic tune playing as it did. A soft, robotic voice came from the monitor, causing a light smirk to lift Jay’s lips.

Finally, the car was ready, and it seemed like the racer was too.

Jay checked his seat adjustments one more time and shifted the gear into drive, keen eyes set on you. “Are you ready, lucky charm?”

The nickname sent a thrill down your spine, and you just wanted him to call you that over and over and over again. Instead of saying all of that though, you returned a smirk of your own, blood rushing in your ears. “Ready.”

X – Kisses and Starry Eyes

Your heart was beating faster than it had probably ever beat in your life, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

You gnawed on your lower lip, shooting Jay frantic glances. “I know this is insane, considering you’re the one racing and all, but I feel like I’m going to pass out from how nervous I feel.”

“Don’t worry about it. The nerves are normal before your first race,” he said, laughed, and glanced out his window.

You two were at the tracks once again, sitting inches away from the starting line. On your left was Sunoo, sitting in a small but ferocious-looking black car. And, on your right was Heeseung, who’d gone above and beyond with a red Ferrari. From where you were sitting, you couldn’t see either of them but you could imagine the serious looks on their faces. That image and the already-fluctuated adrenaline in your bloodstream were setting your heart rate at a number you didn’t think any doctor would want to see.

It didn’t help that you kept imagining scenarios where Jay lost and blamed his loss on you. You knew he wouldn’t do that—at least, you hoped he wouldn’t and didn’t think he would from what you’d learned about him—but that didn’t stop the scenarios from playing over and over in your head.

Hands trembling, you chewed away at your lower lip furiously, until Jay placed his hand over yours. Your eyes left the track to look at him, meeting his soft, narrow eyes—those eyes with the stars and constellations in them. Eyes locked with his, you exhaled a deep breath you hadn’t even known you’d been holding in.

His thumb rubbed comforting circles over your hand. “Do you wanna get out of the car, _____? I don’t want to force you to stay if you don’t want to.”

You were shaking your head before he even finished. Inhaling deeply, you tried to focus on the sound of your slowing heartbeat, instead of all the chaos going on around you. “No, I’m good. I just, I think I just got a bit nervous for a second and freaked out. Let my thoughts run wild, that’s all.”

Jay’s eyes searched yours. “You’re sure?”

The previous nerves you’d felt were ebbing away quickly, adrenaline and excitement taking their place. You chalked them up to a brief moment of panic at the reality of the moment settling in. But, now that you’d acclimated to it, Sunoo and Heeseung’s presence wasn’t intimidating anymore but motivating. And, the scenarios of Jay losing only added to why you wanted him to win. Even though you were almost always worried or nervous when it came to your firsts in Death Valley—your first time in Death Valley Garage, your first time in the shack, your first, kinda, participation in a race—those feelings always gave way to growing anticipation that stirred up your stomach in the best way possible.

You squeezed his hand back and grinned. “Of course I’m sure. I mean, I almost died less than an hour ago, and, here I am, still breathing. If that didn’t knock me out, I don’t think a race will.”

“Good to know you’re fine.” He rolled his eyes, smiling softly.

“Yeah,” you murmured, gazing into his eyes.

They were soft and warm, filled with stars you could connect like the ones in the night sky. The brown pools of his eyes were deep, deep enough for you to want to fall into them and explore them for as long as he’d let you. He blinked, and his lashes met the apples of his cheeks in a way that suits his face perfectly. When he opened them again, he was still staring at you with so much warmth that you hadn’t known a person was capable of conveying through their eyes—until now.

God, you really loved his eyes. And, you wished you could stare into them forever.

But, unfortunately, you couldn’t. A loud beep from Sunoo’s car startled you, drawing your eyes away from his.

Jay cleared his throat, looking outside the window, but you could still see a light flush had spread across his cheeks. It was adorable, and you were about to verbalise that when Jungwon began his commentary for the third and final race.

“Welcome back everybody to this evening’s race.” Even though his voice was muffled through the car, it was loud enough to distract you two from what had just happened. At least, somewhat. In the back of your mind, you could still see the stars in Jay’s eyes. “No fancy introductions or monologues are needed this time. We’ll just get right into it.”

You were about to clap, but a glance at your hands reminded you that Jay’s hand was on top of your left hand. His hand rendered you unable to clap, something you were not at all upset about. Smiling to yourself, you settled for a low whoop.

“As we all know, in an unexpected turn of events, Jay came first in the last race. Even though, technically, it wasn’t that unexpected since that’s what always happens, but—tangent.” Jungwon muttered something underneath his breath, before breezing on. “Anyways, Jay took first place, Sunoo took second, and Heeseung took third. So, now these three will race head to head around the track five times in their cars.”

Along with your tiny whoops, the yells of the audience followed, which Jungwon didn’t let last for too long.

“Are all the racers ready?”

Sunoo beeped enthusiastically and Heeseung did as well, but Jay faltered for a moment.

He glanced at you, before looking at his hand on yours. With a low ‘oh’, you were going to remove your hand from under his, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and raised your hands.

You raised a curious brow. “What are you—“

Jay cut you off with a chaste kiss on the back of your hand, eyes focused on you the entire time. He gave you a soft smile. “For good luck, _____.”

He dropped your hand gently back in your lap afterwards, but you could still feel his lips on your skin. Even as he placed both hands on the wheel and beeped, the touch of his lips lingered on the back of your hand. You could only watch him sober up for the race with wide eyes, speechless and incredibly flustered because of his actions, while the moment replayed in your head over and over.

You couldn’t even fully process what had happened because Jungwon sped on by at the sound of Jay’s beep.

“Everybody, get ready. At the sound of the horn, we go.”

You spared Jay a glance, mind still reeling from the kiss. His jaw was tense and his eyes were focused on the tracks ahead of him. If he was nervous, you couldn’t tell because he spent the few moments before the horn checking and double-checking the stats the car was giving him. The only sign he may have been feeling a bit nervous was his tightened grip around the wheel, but it could’ve also been him remaining prepared for the fateful sound of the horn.

You, too, in a way, prepared yourself for that horn. If you hadn’t been sure before that kiss, you were sure as hell now. You liked Jay. In what capacity and to what extent, you didn't know yet. But, you were more than willing to take that journey with him to find out.

“Ready?”

That was, after he won this race.

“Set.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Jay relax his foot against the accelerator, earning a gentle hum from the car. The hum built up into a purr, as his foot pressed harder against the pedal, but not hard enough to set it into motion. No, his foot remained relaxed against the accelerator, ready to race off into the night.

And, then, the horn went off, and so did the two of you with the sound of the car’s roar in the background.

Fast.

That was all you could think at first, as the barren land around you blended into one big blur. The moon chased the two of you, quick on your heels but it just wasn’t fast enough. Jay’s foot never left the accelerator, never giving the car the chance to slow down. It was just fast, fast, fast, fast, fast, faster.

You couldn’t keep up with all the motion all around you, so you closed your eyes instead and savoured everything else going on.

With your eyes closed, you could focus more on what you heard and all you could hear was the sound of the engine getting louder and louder. It wasn’t just a roar, now, but a howl and an ear-deafening one at that too. Occasionally, the sound of the wheels turning against the gravel reached your ears, or the sound of either Sunoo’s car or Heeseung’s accelerating cut through to you. But, it was mostly just the engine filling your ears—loud, explosive, roaring, and thrilling. The car was loud, so loud that you couldn’t even hear yourself think, but it riled you up in a way you never thought it would.

You were tempted to open your eyes again, to see how many laps you guys had completed, but the energy in the car was addicting in a way you couldn’t have predicted. On Sunoo’s bike, the thrill it had given you was more apparent—with the blows of the wind or the revs that had vibrated throughout your entire body. But, with the car, though it was more subtle, you could almost feel the hum pulsating through it. That hum sent a different, but pleasant vibration through your body, almost like the car was channelling its energy through you. The energy was almost too much for you to handle, running from your heads to your toes.

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Throwing your hands up, you screamed and shouted absolutely anything and everything that came to your mind. Jay was probably staring at you like you were crazy, but you didn’t care—at least not that much. This, this, was the true meaning of living in the moment, you realised, so happy and full of joy.

A laugh fell from your lips, and you opened your eyes once again when Jay joined in. It was like that moment before, when you had got lost in his eyes, but this time the space between you two was charged with so much electricity and your combined laughter was flooding your ears. You were glad he couldn’t lock eyes with you this time, his gaze flickering between your wide smile and the road, or else you would’ve probably combusted from just how much you were feeling right now.

There wasn’t much on your mind besides the roar of the car, the energy vibrating through you, and Jay’s laughter, but the only coherent thought you could think was that you wanted this to go on and on and on and on.

And then it was over.

With a last press on the accelerator, Jay crossed the finish line and you were brought back to your present reality.

The audience was yelling, Jungwon was announcing Jay as the winner, and he was smiling widely at you. You realised your heart was beating fast, so incredibly fast, as you smiled back at him—overwhelmed by all the emotions you were feeling. You wanted to pull him into a hug, scream, do anything, but you just sat there, wide-eyed and smiling like an idiot.

He closed nearly all the distance between your faces, hands cupping your cheeks and wide smile never faltering. “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of responding with words, you closed the rest of the distance and planted your lips on his. There was a messy clash at first, of lips and teeth and tongue, but then your hands found his neck and his found yours, as your lips moulded together. Your mouths moved against each other quickly, but somehow gently, like what was happening between you two was sacred. To you, it felt like it was when you pulled back from him, panting heavily but smiling widely.

It was the end of the first race you’d ever been a part of and you knew one thing for sure; the thrill that racing gave you was indescribable and incomparable to anything else—except, for, of course, Park Jongseong.

Epilogue ��� The Kiss

What happened after the race was all a blur, as your mind was filled with ‘Jay, Jay, Jay, woah, that was a cool race, Jay, Jay.’ The man, himself, breezed through congratulations with a wide smile on his face and a hand wrapped around your waist. He never took all of the credit, even though he did all of the driving, and always responded with a humble, “It was just my lucky charm.”

More than a couple people picked up on the shift between you two—Jungwon gave you a thumbs up, Heeseung winked, and Niki huffed a quiet, “I told you you’d thank me,”—but neither of you brought up the quick kiss that had happened in the car. There were more important things to focus on like bragging about how good of a driver Jay was since he wouldn’t do it himself.

That didn’t mean you weren’t thinking about the kiss–certainly not. Throughout the rest of the night, which wasn’t all that long, your mind strayed to it every now and then. When everyone moved over to the shack for drinks, that Jay humbly declined, you thought about the kiss. When you drank a bit too much, and the drinks encouraged you to get a little bolder with your attempts at flirting with Jay, you were thinking about what you had to do to get his lips back on yours. Even now, half-asleep in the passenger seat of another one of his cars you were mumbling to yourself about kissing Jay. In the back of your head, you were glad he was too busy talking to Sunoo to hear the embarrassing retelling of your kiss.

“Here’s _____’s dorm number,” was what Sunoo said, and you could hear the sound of rustling from beside the car.

“And, how do you have this?”

Sunoo scoffed jokingly. “You’re not the only person who’s talked to _____, y’know. We’re actually best friends if you didn’t know. And as _____’s best friend, it’s my duty to threaten to beat you up if you do anything funny. Got it?”

“Wow, such good friends, but you found _____’s address through a random sticky note.” Jay laughed, and then there was more rustling that you assumed was him taking the note from your bag you had left with Sunoo earlier.

“Shut up,” he laughed as well, but there was a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “Just get going already. You and _____ probably have papers to write, or whatever you uni people are doing these days.”

Jay snorted. “That’s going to be you next year, you know? It’s just a year of freedom before you’re shackled by due dates again.”

Sunoo made a weird noise, one that resembled a shiver but not quite. “Please, do not remind me. I’m avoiding hell personified for as long as I can, and I don’t need you reminding me of what I barely escaped.”

“Right, right.”

A yawn followed Jay's reply, some shuffling, and murmured words you couldn't hear. Then, he slipped into the car beside your sleepy form with a loud slam of the car door. Jay adjusted your head from its cramped position and to a more comfortable one, humming underneath his breath while he did. As he did, his breath fanned against your neck, eliciting a soft shiver from you, and he paused.

“_____, you’re awake?”

You didn’t reply, just sluggishly moved your head in what was supposed to be a nod, but probably didn’t come across as one.

“Oh.” You could tell he was embarrassed from the shy laughter that followed, something you found adorable, but he tried his best to cover it with a cough. “Sorry, I was just adjusting your head, so you wouldn’t wake up with all sorts of kinks in your neck.”

Again, you made your weird nodding motion and received a relaxed sigh from Jay in return.

You were almost asleep now, barely paying attention to what was going on around you. The most you registered was Jay clicking his seatbelt into place, turning the car on, and setting out on the road. Besides that, you were pretty much asleep and snoring away. The slight rocks of the car only lulled you further to sleep, making it harder for you to stay awake—not that you were fighting it. Before you’d even realised it, you’d drifted off to sleep with images of the race and the kiss on your mind.

When you opened your eyes again for a brief moment, you weren’t sure where you were. Judging from all the street lights around you, you weren’t at your uni’s dorms yet, but you were back in the city, which was good. You squinted at the sight of Jay in the seat next to you. He was driving with one hand on the wheel, and the other was playing with the radio to find a good song to listen to. Your eyes drifted closed again, just as he finally settled on a song and began to sing along to it with his deep register.

The next time you opened your eyes, you and Jay were parked in front of your dorm’s complex. His hand was on your shoulders, trying to gently shake you awake since he hadn’t noticed you’d woken up, and his lips were right in your line of sight.

Voice heavy with sleep, you whispered, “I’m awake.”

He moved back, surprised and embarrassed like he’d been when he’d found out you’d been awake earlier back at Death Valley. His cheeks had a light flush to them, but he stayed quiet as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. It was only when you placed your hand on the door that he said something, but his words were rushed. “I can help you back to your dorm, _____.”

You were still sleepy and slightly tipsy from the drinks you’d had, but you waved him off with a hand. “It’s fine. I can handle a walk back to my dorm, Jay. I won’t die… I think.”

Jay’s signature smile came back, and you were glad to see it one last time before the night ended. You returned one of your own, just grinning at him stupidly before you slipped out of his car. Before you closed the door, you waved. “Bye, Jay.”

“Uh, bye—Wait!” As you slammed your door and started making your way home, Jay got out of his side of the car in a hurry. He caught up to you quickly, grabbing onto your arm. Turning you around, he studied your face earnestly, eyes focused on yours. Even though you could tell what he wanted to do, there was the slightest bit of hesitation on his end.

You smiled, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. “Do you want to kiss me?”

He deflected with a question of his own, flushing slightly. “Can I?”

“Hm,” you hummed in mock thought, raising an eyebrow. You were only teasing him, though, because you dropped the act with a laugh, looped your arms around his neck, and leaned in closer to him. Shrugging, you replied, “Well, what are you waiting for? Kiss me, you idiot.”

And, that he did. He wrapped his arms around your waist, closing the remaining distance between you two, and met your lips. Different from the kiss earlier, this one was much softer. It only lasted a few seconds and conveyed nothing more than affection between you two. It was quick and sweet—just very Jay-like.

When you two parted, he was smiling the widest you'd ever seen him smile this night, and the stars were back in his eyes.

You returned a smile of your own, loosening your grip around him. “See you around?”

He squeezed your waist one last time, before letting go. Jay nodded, eyes shining. “See you around.”

With Jay’s starry eyes on your back and butterflies in your stomach, you made your way home once again. Your thoughts and emotions were a mess, filled with all the events of the night, especially the more recent ones. But, an overarching feeling filled you as you turned back once more to still find Jay’s eyes on you.

You smiled.

You couldn’t wait to return to Death Valley once again.

copyright 2022 soobisms, all rights reserved. no translations or reposts of any form allowed.

[eukariote]

hello <3 can you tell me your opinions about both book anna karenina and it's adaptations? i always wanted to ask about it. i hope everything is alright <3 sending hugs via screen

OMG, the perfect ask. Yes, I can absolutely tell you my thoughts!! And thank you, everything is mostly all right :)

Anna Karenina the book is incredible; I know this sounds like a strange thing to say about an 800-page Victorian novel, but it's actually quite the page-turner. It's very gripping. The sentence-level writing isn't great—Tolstoy repeats words a lot, which bothers me—but the plot is exciting and the characters are so amazing. Tolstoy's sense of story and characterization is really remarkable. Anna Arkadyevna herself is a wonderful character, but the supporting cast is just as good if not better. Stiva is endlessly entertaining, Kitty is charming in her childish way, Lyovin is of course so endearing. It's definitely worth reading.

The thing about Anna Karenina the book is that it almost feels like a screenplay in epic novel form. The characters and settings are very clearly defined and the dialogue is sharp and dramatic. So you'd think—or at least I thought—that there would be at least one really, really good adaptation out there! But there isn't...

The early adaptations are okay—Greta Garbo is one of my least favorite Annas, but Vivien Leigh is wonderful.

From what I've seen of it, the 1967 Soviet version is probably the closest to the book. But other than Yury Yakovlev (my beloved), the casting in that version feels off to me.

The 1977 BBC version shouldn't even count. Stuart Wilson as Vronsky is a crime.

The 1997 version is generally thought to be awful, but I love Sophie Marceau as Anna, and the costumes are to die for. I want ALL of those dresses! The soundtrack is also amazing; putting the Pathetic Symphony over Anna's suicide is so genius <3

The 2012 version is... ugh. I don't hate it, but I don't like it either. For me, Keira Knightley is the biggest weak link. I watched an interview where one of the producers said "Keira was the obvious choice" and honestly I find that really hard to believe. I say this as someone who looks VERY much like Keira: I don't think she's pretty enough to play Anna. She looks too Hollywood. I also hate the costumes in the 2012 version, and fail to understand why Jacqueline Duran keeps getting nominated for Oscars. What happened to the wonderful costumes of Death in Venice and The Age of Innocence and A Room with a View?? However, the 2012 version has its moments: the soundtrack is great, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Vronsky... oohohohoh <33

The 2013 version (the Italian one that no one's ever heard of) is so awful, I don't think it's really worth discussing. The editing is bad, the acting is bad, the soundtrack is bad, the costumes are atrocious, etc, etc. Vittoria Puccini and Santiago Cabrera are VERY pretty but that's really the only good thing about it.

Now, the 2017 version... people tend to love or hate this one. I'm personally super sensitive, so I don't really like watching the gory war scenes, but I think that's more me than the film itself. Maksim Matveyev is the best Vronsky in my opinion, and the costumes and uniforms are STUNNING. I don't care for the soundtrack, and, as usual, I think Anna is miscast: like Keira Knightley, Elizaveta Boyarskaya just looks too Hollywood for my taste. I also don't know why they didn't show Anna's suicide on screen. I think shooting her suicide always show's off the director's taste, creativity, and values—or lack thereof—and I find it really interesting to compare the different versions.

Anyways, thank you so much for asking—as you can tell I have a lot of opinions about this!! :)

[fairyoftbz]

insecurities | l. juyeon

🧸 pairing: idol!juyeon x (insecure) fem!reader 🧸 word count: 2.7k 🧸 genre: angst, fluffy end 🧸 tw: mentions of insecurities, doubts 🧸 a/n: sorry i forgot to post, i had a busy day and im exhausted, i hope it's gonna be enough! 🧸 requested: yes! thank you, it is very cliché but i hope this is what you had in mind! 💝

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Juyeon came home tired but happy, excited to see you again after a long day of intense practice and a show where he participated as an MC. You, on the other hand, were not as happy as he was, but you were for sure tired of something.

You couldn’t deny it, dating Juyeon had positive points, he was everything you could ask for in a man, but there were just as many negative points. He was an attractive, sweet gentleman, and it was almost impossible for him not to attract other girls, not even doing it on purpose. And it was one of your many insecurities even if you considered yourself pretty, you couldn’t help but get insecure every time he talked to someone else.

Because let’s be honest, in the Korean music industry, every single woman looks like an absolute goddess. So, when he interacts with someone, and they’re a bit too friendly, your heart pinches in pain as he gives them the smile he keeps for you and you only.

You think that they are more interesting, prettier and funnier than you, which has the ability to send your thoughts to the dark side of self-consciousness, not feeling pretty or enough next to those women. And tonight, it was hard to watch on National TV your boyfriend being extremely friendly with the other MC.

You had tried to comfort yourself that it was just a mask, that he had to look friendly and handsome on TV. However, you couldn’t help feeling disappointment and anger as he gave attentive eyes to the other MC as she explained something, his eyes falling on her lips pressed against the mic.

Juyeon walks through the main door, tossing his keys on the chest of drawers, getting rid of his jacket and shoes before joining you in the living room, happy to see that you were watching the same channel he appeared on. Eyes glued on the screen, your thumb rubbed against your lips, feeling the skin of the cuticles you scratched while watching your boyfriend feeling rough against your lips.

“Hi love,” he said as he sat next to you, pressing his lips on your cheek. You didn’t react, only emitting a slight hum as he sat comfortably.

Juyeon frowned but didn’t raise your bad mood, trying to think what was going on inside your head. Maybe you had a bad day, or you were just tired, despite scratching his head and think, he couldn’t pinpoint what had brought you in such a bad mood.

“Did you have fun?” you bitterly spat, and Juyeon’s eyes widened, surprised by your tone, the wrinkle on his forehead deepening as his brows furrowed at your attitude.

“I did. Are you mad or something?” he bluntly asked, and you sighed, taking the remote to turn the TV off, falling in an unpleasant, uncomfortable silence.

“Oh no, I’m super fine. I really enjoyed my boyfriend giving heart eyes to another girl on national TV, it was such a nice thing to watch,” you bitterly chuckled, and Juyeon’s eyes widened even more, not expecting you to pull out the jealousy card on that.

“Babe, what are you talking about? You know-”

“Please, spare me your fake confusion and lame excuses, I clearly saw what I saw. My eyes never deceive me,” you said while standing up, but Juyeon was quick to imitate you and grab your wrist to prevent you from walking away. You tried to free yourself from his grip, but he only tightened his hand around it.

“Juyeon, let me go,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to prevent the tears from escaping your eyes. Breaking down was the last thing you wanted to do in this situation.

“Not before you explain to me what this fuss is all about,” he said, irritation replacing confusion in his eyes. You let out a mocking scoff, your eyes filled with anger and disdain boring into your boyfriend’s, holding eye contact for a few seconds.

“You really think I’m this dumb? I clearly saw the eyes you gave to the other MC when you were both animating the show. Cracking jokes, giving her smiles that could outshine the sun, your eyes ogling her lips when she was talking or smiling. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch that?” you raised your voice, letting anger take over your body.

“I never did all of that, I don’t know what you are insinuating,” he spat, trying not to show it, but your words hurt him, hating the fact that you could imagine him cheat on you or fancy another girl.

“Go on social media then, you will see what I am ‘insinuating’! Everyone is already talking about how whipped you are and how cute of a couple you would look together. Some fans are even starting to make edits!” you shouted, shoving your phone in your hoodie’s front pocket.

Juyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his nerves a bit, a gesture that had the ability to enrage you even more. Your family used to do that when they found you annoying or wanted to belittle you, and now seeing Juyeon doing the exact same thing as them really made you even more insecure about this whole situation. Your family made you feel like a real burden during your childhood and teen years that it hurt you to think that Juyeon was probably agreeing with that thought right now.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you are talking about. I was just trying to be nice, I can’t be rude or it’s mine and the group’s reputation that I’ll take down with me-”

“No it’s okay, no need to explain yourself, the message was very clear,” you said, and you finally freed yourself from his grip, your heart breaking as Juyeon sighed in annoyance again, seeing him almost roll his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t react like that, please,” he started, but you waved your hand in front of you.

“No, no, I got it, you-”

“Y/N, for the love of God, stop being so fucking insecure, it’s getting so fucking annoying at this point! I can’t do anything without you getting fucking doubtful, start having faith in me and in this relationship, dammit!” your eyes widened as Juyeon eventually snapped, his mouth slowly closing as he stared at you, realisation hitting him that his words and tone made a lot of damage once he saw the tears gather in your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The couch separated the two of you, creating the illusion of a painful wall that made you shiver, feeling like your apartment had lost all of its warmth on the spur of the moment. His words were brutal, and they bounced around your skull, your head turning towards the corridor to swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying not to break down in front of him.

“Y/N, I’m-”

“Leave me alone,” you replied, voice wavering as you walked out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut before locking it.

Juyeon sighed and carded his hands through his dark locks, closing his eyes as he thought of the words that had escaped his mouth too quickly. He cursed under his breath as the living room fell into a deafening silence, his hands linked at the back of his neck as he thought of what just happened.

“Why did I say that,” he muttered under his breath and collapsed on the couch, unlocking his phone and scrolling on social media to try and momentarily forget your beautiful face painted with a hurtful expression because of him, but it was to no avail.

He saw what you saw; the fiction, the edits, the collages, he saw and read everything. He already hated seeing you cry and being hurt, but he actually loathed himself for being such an idiot and not comfort you about the whole situation with what was happening on every social platform.

His heart shattered in millions of pieces as he pictured you crying in your shared bed, holding the stuffed animal he got you for your anniversary tight against your chest, letting you drown in your insecurities and intrusive thoughts. He loved you very much, but despite him trying to remind you every single day, your intrusive thoughts always managed to get the upper hand when you found yourself hanging out on your own or with some friends. It was as if your brain shut out everyone who tried to reassure you or make you feel better, letting you drown and struggle in your sorrow.

Yes, the other idols were pretty, but they were nothing compared to you. Juyeon had only eyes for you and cared about you and, of course, his members, but never had he thought about leaving you for someone else. His intentions were just to sound and appear nice and welcoming on TV because he knew that some fans, antis and media wouldn’t hesitate a second to bash him on different platforms and articles for his rudeness and insensitivity towards his idol colleague. And not only would he break his reputation, but also the group’s, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

However, he also understood that it was something hard to watch for you, even if he reminded you every single day that you were the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Sitting on the couch, he started reflecting, putting himself in your shoes for a second. How would he have reacted if he saw you being super friendly and affectionate to another man? Someone more handsome, nicer than him, cracking jokes here and there to see you smile and laugh.

He tossed his phone on the couch space next to him, where he wished you were instead of crying yourself in your shared bed, watching the device bounce, collide with the armrest and fall on the ground. He didn’t even fret checking if the screen cracked, head too high in his thoughts to bother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he pressed his joined hands against his mouth, tongue poking his inner cheek as he realised he had really messed everything up. His knee started bouncing at the disgusting thought of losing you, perfectly knowing that he had to do something before you could slip through his hand like grains of sand.

Juyeon stood up and knocked on the bedroom door, softly calling for your name.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you didn’t respond, faintly hearing you cry on the other side of the wall. “Go away, please,” your strained voice barely making it to his ears, his fingers drumming against the surface of the door in frustration.

From your side of the bed, still holding that teddy bear close to your chest, you let your tears damp the top of its head, feeling the exhaustion of crying kicking in. Juyeon didn’t knock another time, trying not to push your buttons too much to save his chances to talk to you.

You heard a small thud on the lower part of the door, frowning as you wondered what it was. Deep breathings filled in the silence lingering in the corridor, selfishly feeling a bit relieved that you weren’t the only one hurt in this situation. Juyeon was a smart, tolerant man, he knew when to put his pride aside and not blame you for something you said or did. Well, it’s not the case for this time, and it’s probably exhaustion that spoke for him, and that, of course, doesn’t excuse anything, but he wanted to apologise and make up for everything.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me or hear my voice after what I’ve told you, but I really want to apologise for what I’ve said,” you held your breath to hear his faint, low voice on the other side of the door. You sat up and felt dizzy for a quick second, still holding the teddy bear against your chest, your face buried in its head as you let the tears keep rolling on your cheeks.

“I know it’s hard to date me, and I’m really sorry, I wish we had a simpler life, where we could hang out and go on dates like two normal people. It’s also hard for me to not be the type of boyfriend everyone wishes to have, but I’m so damn grateful to call you mine.” Juyeon marked a pause and ruffled his hair, pushing the front pieces away from his hair while thinking of his following words.

“I… you don’t know how much I’m sorry for using your insecurities against you. I shouldn’t have, it was the dumbest move I could ever do, but I just didn’t know what to answer. You are so pretty, so beautiful, amazing, and absolutely wonderful to have around to me, so seeing you this insecure makes me mad every time you compare yourself to someone you think looks prettier, thinner, or more perfect than you. It’s... really frustrating because I try my best to make you feel like a goddess and worth it every day, but those unrealistic society standards and god damn social media make you feel like you are not worth an ounce of love,” he took in a big breath and raised his knees upwards, letting his forearms rest on them.

You slowly opened the door behind him and dropped the teddy bear by his side, letting him know of your presence. He was quick to notice it and turn around to hug your legs tightly, your hands finding their way in his hair and started massaging his skull.

“I’m so sorry, Ju,” you faintly whispered, and he breathed in deeply against your skin as if he finally found you again after being separated from you for years.

He grabbed your cherished stuffed animal and stood up, holding it against your chest with a tender smile. He sat you down on the bed and gave you a proper hug, mouth pressing loving kisses on your forehead and temple as his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you as close to him as possible.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am. I love you so, so much, I’m really sorry for all the stupid words I’ve thrown at you,” he said, and you shook your head, squeezing your arms around his middle tightly as an answer.

“I guess I have to accept that you have eyes only for me. But you know, it’s hard to acknowledge it and believe it when you find everyone around you ten times more beautiful than you are,” you mumbled against his chest as you sat on his lap, and he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat.

“I know Y/N, I know. I wish I could rid you of those insecurities, my heart breaks each time I see you so unsure of yourself. You're just so beautiful and amazing, it honestly kills me to see you like this,” he whispered, and you bitterly chuckled, gently pulling away to look at him with pearly eyes, his arms around you holding you still tight, making sure that you wouldn’t go too far from him.

“You can’t do that, but maybe you can help me soothe them by keeping loving me the way you’ve done since day one,” you mumbled, and he smiled, his eyes shining with tears just like yours.

You both cupped each other’s face and sadly smiled at the other, Juyeon feeling comforted at the sensation of your thumbs wiping the tears away from his cheeks and vice versa.

“We just need time, love, but I promise I’m going to help you realise how much you mean to me and how beautiful you are. And how much I don’t care about other girls,” he mumbled, and he gently drew your face closer to his, your lips grazing against his mouth. You closed your eyes at the proximity, feeling so much love and passion in his kiss that it was getting hard to breathe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Juyeon pulled away from your lips and whispered against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours.

“I love you too,” you smiled, burying your face in his neck, your boyfriend kissing the crown of your head while hugging you tight.

You giggled as Juyeon applied pressure on your waist, making you fall on your side on the bed. His hand gently cradled your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone with a soft smile on his face. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his, feeling him chuckle and gently press his lips against yours.

[sephys-hubby]

For the space asks, Moon, Nebula, Black Hole and Milky Way for you and Sephiroth, and Star and Neptune for any ship you like! (sorry there are so many, if its too much you dont have to do them all! from citrus-selfinserts)

Hello, @citrus-selfinserts ! I really didn't mean to take so long answering these. Either way, I would still like to thank you for sending in these asks!

Moon ~ Did your love for your F/O come all at once or in phases?

(Sorry, I'm about to get kinda detailed)

It's incredible how my love for Sephiroth kinda came all at once (like before, he was just "the villain from FFVII" in my eyes and that was it. Back then, I didn't even think he was as good looking as people said, lol). So I saw his Smash trailer streamed live on YouTube on Dec 10, 2020. I thought "wow, cool!" but that was mostly it.

And then a few days before he released, there was a "Sephiroth Challenge" thing where you could fight him as a boss in Smash in order to unlock him early.

(The image alone is my phone's wallpaper!)

Either way, that day was pretty hype! My brothers and I all sat together and took turns trying to beat Sephiroth. (We all sucked, lol. I myself wasn't too good at 1v1s in smash bros yet.)

It was a while until I was the one who finally beat him (using Toon Link, my old Brawl main). After that, we each took turns using Seph, with me being last. After I won the match while using him, I honestly don't really know what happened. He just did his victory—the one where he walks away into the flames—and my heart just swooned for some reason, lol. (I legit blushed pretty hard irl. Good thing no one saw me, haha).

Either way, since I never really cared about FFVII before—thus feeling like I didn't deserve to use Seph for that reason—I made up weird excuses on why I kept wanting to use him. (Like, I kept saying "I just think his sword's cool, that's it." Stupid stuff like that.)

In about one day, I was already crushing hard, which has never happened before, lol! It's silly, but it is what it is. In about three or so days, I was already madly in love—albeit in heavy denial, lol.

Nebula ~ If you could take your F/O anywhere where would you go?

As you know, I love liminal spaces and stuff! There are just too many cool liminal spaces and/or Backroom levels that I would love to explore with Sephiroth (everyone else, too!). There's this specific Backrooms level that comes to mind, though. The Grassroom Corridors.

It is just so cool looking, in my opinion. Like, something out of a hazy but pleasant dream. There's a found footage video for the Grass Corridors (you don't have to watch the whole thing! It's like 17 minutes or so). It was cool and pretty spooky!

I remember when some monster/entity thing formed on a wall near the end of the video and my only thought was, "that's just the Demon Wall from Final Fantasy IV!" So, if Seph and I encountered that while exploring, all I can say is: cue the FFIV boss music! (To clarify, I think a different song plays during the actual Demon Wall fight in FFIV, but this is the song I thought of first and prefer more, tbh!)

Edit: the wall monster was actually in a sequel video to the original video I linked. Oops! But it was still in the same location, I believe, so yeah. My point still stands, lol.

Black hole ~ What's your favorite thing about your F/O's source?

My favorite things about FFVII is the materia! They're basically these orbs that you can insert into equipment to cast magic or use other unique skills and stuff.

They are just so satisfying to look at due to how pretty they are.

My favorite materia is the Black Materia! It's the one Sephiroth uses to summon Meteor. It's so cool looking, and I actually have a look alike irl!

It's so cool to hold in my hand, I love it.

Milky way ~ What's your favorite daydream you've had of your F/O?

I daydream a lot with Sephiroth. But I believe my favorite—and the most intricate one—is the one where me and Sephiroth (the others were there, too) explored the Backrooms! We basically followed the path shown in this video (again, you don't have to watch the whole thing!). It was so fun, just walking around, seeing the cool sights and enjoying the isolated feel. My favorite part was when we explored this one strange area:

(It looks kinda like a hotel to me? But I'm not completely sure. Either way, I think it looks cool.)

Star ~ Do you have a specific song that reminds you of your F/O?

So I have plenty of songs that remind me of Seph and I. But as for everyone as a whole, the song Maze of Life really reminds me of us (you can just listen to just the first verse/chorus of the song if you want!). The lyrics are basically talking about how much of a great time we're all having. (Plus it's the opening theme for a crossover game, which is pretty much what my selfships are since I love to imagine Cloud & Seph interacting with Monokuma and Stubbs, who are from different series!) The first couple of lyrics really fit us.

Ain't it great, how we met each other

On this wild and crazy carousel of life?

Ain't it cool, how it changed the paths of our lives

Set us off on new adventures?

This verse in particular kinda hits me in the feels because of how much I feel it applies to us! Also, I must admit that when listening to the song, I love imagining an anime opening but with all five of us instead, lol.

Neptune ~ Was there ever a time that you had a dream about your F/O?

I've had so many fantastic dreams about my faves (especially with Seph)!

Since I've had so much, I would like to talk about the FIRST major dream I had with Cloud & Sephiroth!

I was in a Little Caesars restaurant (it was about the size of a McDonald's inside) and I was casually hanging out with Cloud and Sephiroth inside!

It was so much fun being with them. I remember at one point, I told them to go get some napkins, and so they did. They went over and while doing so, they suddenly got into an argument (as expected with these two, lol). Upon arguing some more, they then headed outside the building and proceeded to do the whole Advent Children fight sequence again!

The best part was how everyone else inside the pizzeria didn't even seem to care, which implied that this was actually a common occurrence! (I do actually imagine any silly arguments they have occasionally leading to them fighting outside just like this with them re-doing the whole AC fight and everything!)

As for me, I received the pizza we ordered and sat down to eat, watching everything through a window! I woke up soon after that, so I never saw who won (it was probably Cloud tho, lol).

And, that's it! Thanks a ton for these asks! I really regret the fact that I couldn't answer them sooner though. Sorry about that! But like I said, thanks for sending them in the first place.

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 6

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Three things happen at once. 

He pulls his glove off and tosses it aside. You forget how to breathe.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,114

Warnings: Swearing, backstory, angsty angst, fluffy fluff, mutual pining finally acknowledged, overuse of italics, don’t mess with Din’s Cupid or he’ll kill you

Author Note: Important please read this! Ok, so if you’ve been following along you’ll know I had no outline for this originally. And well, that’s come back to bite me. I had to make an edit to Part 2, a small one but still the very beginning will look marginally different if you’ve read it before today’s date Dec. 16, 2020. Basically, I took away the implication that You don’t know exactly how You became a Cupid. So, yeah. Hopefully moving forward I’ll be better handling all this *awkward shuffling*. As always, thank you for all the support and I appreciate every one of you so much ❤

Links to Part 1 and Part 5 and Part 7

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Silence floods the ship in the wake of your admission, stifling and charged with enough tension you fear breathing too loud will set off a chain reaction with disastrous results. It makes the hair on the back of your neck prickle, every instinct inside of you screaming to teleport away, if only so you no longer have to see Din stubbornly trying and failing to hide his internal turmoil behind a mask of indifference.��

When he opens his mouth, you tense but the question slices through you all the same. “When?”

You hesitate, making a face. “Din, we really don’t have time for this. Let’s just move on—”

Without warning, the hand holding your elbow slides to your wrist and twists, turning your palm up for inspection. Din stares at the blank expanse of skin, then slowly his gaze lifts, and he releases you as if you’ve poisoned him.

“You’ve never lied to me before, angel. Did you honestly think now was the best time to start?” he asks, and something breaks inside of you when he looks at you as if you’ve become a total stranger to him.

But before any pain can begin to sink in, anger overcomes you as his assumption registers.

“I’m not lying, you asshole,” you say sharply, feeling a faint pulse of petty satisfaction when you notice the subtle way his stance shifts defensively, betraying his surprise at your boldness. Resting your hands on your hips, you fix him with your fiercest glare. “For all that you are a powerful ancient being of the universe, you are also the biggest, most ignorant fool I’ve ever met. You have absolutely no idea how Cupids become Cupids, do you?”

You don’t offer him even a second to respond, too wound up and fueled by the overwhelming desire to make him get it. To make him understand you’re not purposefully trying to hurt him. If it were up to you, you’d make sure he never felt any kind of pain. But that would require having a choice and that is the one thing the universe did not grant you as a Cupid.

“Every Cupid was once a mortal with a soulmate,” you explain, choosing each word with careful precision while watching his face to make sure his focus never wavers. “And every one of us was rejected by them. When we die, we’re transformed into Cupids, losing our soulmate markings in the process.” When you feel your bottom lip begin to wobble, you pause to take a steadying breath. “You asked me before, what is the true purpose of a Cupid? It’s to help others find the kind of love we never experienced for ourselves.”

Din stands there in front of you, still staring passively, and you’re scared for a moment your words have made no difference, but then his jaw clenches so tightly you hear his teeth grinding. 

“You were rejected?” he growls, vicious and guttural, the sound of a feral beast.

He pivots, fist colliding with the wall with enough force it dents the metal beneath his knuckles. You flinch at the noise, shocked at the abuse he’s inflicted upon his beloved ship. Every bone in his hand should have shattered upon impact, but because Death is immune to such damage he merely turns back to you, breathing raggedly and eyes blackened with rage.

“Tell me his name.”

You’ve already begun shaking your head before you say, “So you can go hunt him down? Hell no. Trust me, it doesn’t matter.”

Instead of pacifying him, this only infuriates him further. “How can you say that? That bastard broke your heart when he was supposed to cherish you, protect you, love you above all else.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you ask peevishly, letting your temper get the better of you. Sparing a moment to mentally count to ten, you quietly reveal, “I can say it doesn’t matter because I don’t even remember who he was. There is no point sending you to kill someone who’s face I can’t pick out of a crowd.”

The sudden way Din’s whole body slumps in response to the news, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, expression scrunched and dumbfounded, would have made you laugh if the circumstances were entirely different. Being what they are, you can only meet his stare evenly, silently assuring him you’re not joking in the slightest.

“I don’t understand,” Din says at last, looking like he wants to approach but is unsure you’ll welcome his nearness so he keeps his distance. “You never told me you had memory loss before. What happened to you?”

You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. For as long as I’ve been a Cupid, all my memories from my mortal life have dark spots, like something poked holes in them.”

Din glances away as he mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘Or someone’ but before you can comment, his tone rises to its usual volume as he says, “Is this why you collect all those old newspapers? To try to help you remember?”

You recall with embarrassment him having previously commented on the pile in your living room. That moment feels like years ago, the two of you sitting in your apartment and Din asking...if Cupids were on the list of potential soulmates. Was that his way of asking if you were on the list? Surely not. He’s much cleverer than that.

...Isn’t he?

“I just,” you shake your head, refocusing on the current conversation. “I keep thinking maybe I’ll find something that fills in the gaps. I don’t like this pit in my stomach, this feeling that I’ve forgotten something important.” You huff a self-deprecating chuckle. “Other than my soulmate, I mean.”

He offers you a smile, small and lopsided, likely meant to be consoling, but you see right through it. You see his pain in the tightness around his mouth, in the way his fingers flex at his sides like it’s taking all his self-control not to reach out to you. Your confession has hurt him. Badly. It’s the kind of hurt no amount of bacta can heal.

The silence returns, different than the one usually experienced during hyperspace in that it wishes to be broken, for someone to say something, anything. You would grant its wish except your thoughts are a jumbled mess inside your head. Deep down, there is a part of you which knows there is nothing you can say that will fix this—this being the chasm forming between you and Din, widening with every passing second spent staring wordlessly at each other. 

Would telling him sooner have prevented this heartbreak? Probably. But looking back, you can’t think of an opportune moment. You had never thought your crush could be requited—not just because you were already matched, but also because it had always seemed so ridiculous, imagining the great and powerful Death feeling anything remotely close to affection for an unimportant, low-ranking Cupid. 

“Angel,” Din begins after a few minutes, his voice anchoring you back in the present. He’s staring over your shoulder, brow furrowed thoughtfully and you can practically hear the gears turning inside his head. “Earlier, you said you didn’t tell your boss I was your client. Why didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter, before an unexpected wave of boldness comes over you. Digging your finger into the armor on his chest, you remind him, “You came to me first, remember? Not them. So, I figured you didn’t want them knowing.”

“I couldn’t care less who knows,” Din deadpans.

“Oh.” You blink, hand falling back along your side, because what else can you say.

“You want to know what I think?” Oh Maker, he’s stepping closer until there’s only a foot of space between you two. His voice is a low, raspy murmur, sending your heartbeat into overdrive. “I think you didn’t want them knowing because you like being the only angel who does.”

You start to squirm, fight or flight instincts at total war with each other. His theory isn’t too far from the truth, making it all the worse hearing it out loud because it practically oozes possessiveness which is exactly what you’d feared.

“Before you pull away from me again,” Din continues, knowing you and your mind too damn well. “I want you to listen when I say nothing that you’ve told me changes how I feel about you.”

“Din—” you try, only for your voice to crack.

Then three things happen at once.

He pulls his glove off and tosses it aside. You forget how to breathe.

“I’ve been alone my entire existence and I kept telling myself that was how the universe intended it to be. That I couldn’t love anyone because I kill everything I touch.” A smile pulls at his lips when he looks down at his bare hand and a note of awe slips into his voice. “Then you came along, beautiful and clumsy and unafraid to call me out for being an ass. I started looking forward to each full moon because it meant I got to see you and admire every new detail about your life you chose to share with me. And then when this appeared,” he nods towards the soulmate marking, gleaming faintly beneath the overhead lighting, “all I could think of was you.”

You feel your throat becoming thick as you blink back tears, inhaling sharply through your nose. “Why didn’t you say anything at the train station? Why would you let me try to set you up with matches if you liked me that way?”

Din grimaces, abashed. “Because after you said there weren’t any Cupids on your list, I realized you didn’t know I liked you. I convinced myself I had to show you how I felt, instead of tell you. Although,” he holds up a finger, backtracking, “I actually almost did confess, on our way to Sorgan, but you stopped me. And that just further convinced me actions spoke louder than words. I knew none of the people you found me could ever compare with you, so I thought once you saw each unsuccessful connection, you’d realize the only hand I want to hold is yours.”

“Din, it can’t be me.” Your protest is weak, on the verge of caving in, forcing you to try another angle. “I can’t have two soulmates.”

He inhales a breath so sharp and unexpected, it startles your poor heart into skipping a beat.

Din looks at you like you’ve gifted him all the stars in the galaxy, brown eyes blown wide with hope. “Angel, do you mean it? That you consider me—”

“Of course, you idiot.” You attempt a laugh, but it comes out sounding broken and forced. “As Death, as Din, as whoever you want to be, I’ll always consider you. But...what if what happened on Sorgan happens to us? What if the universe doesn’t favor us?”

“I just want to be yours.” Din extends his hand towards you. “And if that means breaking the universe’s rules, then fuck it. We’ll make up our own. Together.”

Time seems to stand still, like you’ve entered a realm separate from the rest of the universe where you’re able to forget you have a complicated past, filled with holes and a soulmate who rejected you. Here it’s just you, Din, and his offer to love you unconditionally. Here you have a choice.

And it’s the easiest one you’ve ever made.

You slowly lift up your hand to hover in front of his, fingers trembling as they uncurl.

“Together,” you whisper.

And then your hands are moving to meet one another, closer and closer until his fingertips brush yours, sending a spark of warmth through your nervous system. Oh, Maker, you had described what you imagined a soulmate connection was like, but you had no idea this is the true experience. It’s like a sunrise dissolving midnight skies, lighting up your surroundings with breathtaking vibrancy. You can’t fathom how you survived all this time being in his presence without feeling his touch.

“Dank farrik,” he mutters hoarsely, sounding just as overwhelmed and awestruck as you feel.

You open your mouth, but instead of words a whimper of agony escapes instead. That lovely warmth spreading from your linked hands has started to boil, white-hot and furious. It’s as if all your internal parts have caught fire and are slowly withering to ash—your organs, your bones, even your kriffing blood. 

Your body crumples and Din cries out your name, but you don’t get to hear him say it, unconscious before your head collides with the floor.

Tag List:  @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @eleine-t1d​, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk, @captain-jebi, @aerynwrites, @promiscuoussatan

[prismadog]

I kinda had a suggestion for your au,

So if you don't want to read it, this is your time to delete this ask,

But yeah, maybe Xornoth hasn't been completely corrupted when Scott's people sends them to the nether

As in like, he is definitely very corrupted and evil, but it's not too late for him to become human again

And then [insert something involving Shrub] happens and he is presented the choice of becoming human again and unlocking all the power of exor, at the cost of turning away from his humanity forever

why wouldn't I want to read a suggestion? I love talking to people! and I'd love to hear any feedback, comments, or suggestions!

ooh...I love this idea so much already!

I haven't thought too much about the end game yet but I have thought a bit about pre-exile Xornoth and it's pretty much what you said: maybe they're not fully corrupted and there's a chance for him to return to his former self.

EDIT: this is a quick message from after typing out the below post. I somehow ended up coming up with an end game, idk how that happened but it did. it's not exactly like you suggested but I hope it satisfies well enough. I really loved your ask btw.

also, this is fairly long so I'm putting a "keep reading line below". I think I might have also sort of written a story here? like, I meant for this to be just a little response but...it's not. it's practically a story for how things will go down. obviously, it'll need work, but it's a start!

.

pre-exile chance

my thoughts: there was one moment when Xornoth really questioned their actions, questioned their blind faith to Exor, questioned how they became a monster when all they wanted was to be the beloved hero that their brother Alinar is.

that moment, it was when they were banished from their home, but before they were exiled to the Nether. the people wanted them gone and they turned to their brother for help, they wanted Alinar to keep the people from banishing them. the moment where Xornoth questioned everything was when Alinar turned his back on them.

they moved to the caves and questioned every single little thing they've ever done - where had they gone wrong? why wasn't Alinar proud of him? maybe...maybe everything they were doing wasn't so good after all.

I believe that if when Alinar had found his brother again, if he had asked Aeor for aid in saving his brother instead of banishing them for good, there would have been a chance for Xornoth to return to his former self. but no, Alinar had to go and remove that chance entirely from the equation and exile his brother in the Nether.

* I'm using the Clash of the Great Stags as reference for that part above. I'm leaving Conal & Alinar's canon story as history for the AU versions, though, there might be a tweak or two in the future, who knows?

but. after reading your suggestion and having a good long think about this...maybe there is still a chance, even after Alinar turned his back on his brother.

so...I'ma gonna hash things out here.

.

hash out chance

we the fans know that there's going to be some form of "final battle" between the rulers and Xornoth - the same will be true for the AU as well. it'll be Xornoth, Sausage, Joey, and Shrub against everyone else - though, for Shrub, she doesn't want to fight, she doesn't want to see anyone get hurt, she just wants everyone to get along. but she knows that no matter what she does, everyone will end up at the final battle, ready for war.

but before that, there's a lot of moments where, like in canon, everyone is trying to find a cure for the corruption plaguing their lands. Shrub is no different, except, she pushes more towards a cure for people, for the demon themself.

Katherine, Scott, and Gem are more than willing to help her find a cure - they don't really know why Shrub is so insistent on curing the demon, she only ever vaguely tells them her reasons, but they're still going to help her because they're her friends.

during this, Scott will talk to Aeor, wondering if there is a way to cure the corruption at its source - the demon - without shedding any more blood.

Aeor, I know he's supposed to be a good god, believing in peace and equality - and he is a good god, but...I don't think he would want to resolve things between him and Exor peacefully. in the story I linked, he pretty much jumped right into a fight with Exor without hesitation

so, that being said, I don't think things would be any different even if his champion was looking for peaceful solutions. I believe Aeor would want Scott to take up arms against Xornoth and fight for him, to end the corruption once and for all.

Scott would be reluctant of course, torn between his god's wishes and helping his friends. so, maybe he does both - he'll try to help his friends find a cure for the demon but he'll also prepare for the inevitable final battle.

Shrub and her friends work tirelessly trying to find a cure, making several different potions, and each one Shrub takes home with her and gives them to Xornoth. they're reluctant to take the potions but they'll do anything for their gnome, even if it means turning their back on their god and giving up all the power Exor gifted them.

so, Xornoth tries every different potion given to them, even though not a single one has any effect on them, until all options are completely eliminated and the rulers run out of ideas. at that point in time, there is no other choice except war - war between the gods, between their champions, between people who were all once friends but are now on opposing sides.

maybe this is where Shrub breaks completely, at the moment when the others give up. maybe she begs them to keep trying - just one more potion, that's all we need, the next one will be the right one, I just know it, please keep trying, please don't give up yet, we have to keeping trying.

they'll question her on why she wants the demon cured so badly, they'll question despite knowing that she's only going to dodge every question asked.

but this time. this time Shrub doesn't dodge. this time, she stops giving vague answers and she stops telling lies that leave her with a pit in her stomach. this time, she breaks. this time, she tells them the truth. this time, she tells them the story of her life, her connection to the demon and how Xornoth is like a father to her - tending to her injuries, telling her stories, teaching her so many things, but most of all, loving her unconditionally.

she begs their forgiveness for lying to them for so long, begs them to help her find a cure for the only family she's ever known, begs them to not give up yet.

the other rulers would obviously be shocked, some might walk away feeling hurt and betrayed, some might come to Shrub and accept her as the child of the monster that plagues their lands. those that do accept her, they comfort her and she comforts them. they might all keep trying to make a cure, despite how hopeless it seems - they've already failed so many times, what more can they do?

Xornoth would have the same thoughts - what more can the rulers do? everything they tried, every potion made, has failed and it's just going to be more of the same. so, they make a decision, the demon seals their fate, the demon makes the call for war.

they go into the final battle reluctantly, knowing that there's only one true way to cure them and wishing that it didn't have to be with their death. they go into that battle hoping their little Shrub - their sweet, kind girl who showed them a better way of living - will be okay when they're gone. they know that her friends will be there for her so she should be okay, she can survive.

the two sides face off. no one wants to fight. Shrub, though she stands on the side of the rulers, is torn between her friends and her family. everyone there knows that the speeches given by the rulers of the Overworld are a poor attempt at staving off the inevitable.

Xornoth wants to be the one to throw the first punch, to get the ball rolling, get this fight done and over with, but they see their gnome, their beloved child, staring at them from across the battlefield, and she's crying. the battle hasn't even started and yet, she's mourning their death.

they don't attack. they stay their hand. they stand down. they move forward, hands up and open, free of any weapon, and walk gladly towards their demise. no one moves, all are still as the demon approaches, the usual sinister grin replaced by a grimace of heartache.

the demon stops before them, before their little Shrub and before the elf that looks so much like the brother they lost. Xornoth kneels at their feet, they say their parting words of love to their gnome, then they bow their head and tell Aeor's Champion to make it a quick death and please, if you could do me one favor, please don't let Shrub watch, please don't let her be here.

Shrub tries to go to her father's side, tries to beg them not to do this - there's still time, we can still find a way, please don't do this, please don't give up. Katherine and Gem hold her, embrace her in a way that her eyes are shielded from the bloodshed that's soon to come. they look to Scott, he's the one with the powers of a god that can rival the demon's darkness.

Scott is shaking where he stands but it's not from fear. he stands before the demon, above the monster that's terrorized his friends, and in his hands is the weapon that will strike the final blow and end everything. he had thought for a long time that Alinar was right in his actions, following the path Aeor laid out before him, banishing the only family he had to another world.

but standing here, knowing what he knows now about his friend Shrub, what he knows about himself as Aeor's Champion and about his past life as Alinar - he knows that Alinar made the wrong choice, he knows that there is a better way.

Scott, knowing that his next action is going to displease his god, drops the blessed weapon given to him and says - No. he kneels before the monster and says - You will not die today. he embraces the brother he never knew and says - We will find a cure.

this is where Aeor has a choice to make - enact justice on the crimes committed by Exor - or forgive his sins.

the Stag God follows his Champion's lead and chooses forgiveness. he stands before his own brother and chooses to end the war they've fought for eons.

with this, the corruption dies around them and Conal is freed. the demon melts away and an elf emerges from its remains. Conal embraces their brother come back to life and relishes in the life he's been gifted.

Shrub breaks free from her friends and practically crushes her family - both her father and Scott - with an embrace of her own. she cries enough tears for the both of them, though, Conal comes pretty close to out-crying their child.

and with that, the war is over, the demon is defeated, and the Overworld can live in peace once again.

[joonkorre]

(love) is a heartache

@drarrymicrofic prompt: hope is a heartache - léon

let it be known that harry goes through life purely on vibes. half of his reasons why for every decision at his big age are “idk imma just hope for the best”

ao3

People’s hearts twinge sometimes. For Draco, he can barely remember the last time he doesn’t have these twinges. It’s pretty normal at this point.

“No, it’s not,” Pansy says. She’s a Healer, so she’s probably right. But Draco prefers to ignore that.

“Leave it be,” Draco murmurs, lips against her scalp, “I’m fine. Say, are you free tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You want to go somewhere?”

“Mm. Sleep.”

They go out the next morning, Pansy in thick makeup and Draco practically drunk under nine layers of Charms. The air is a bit humid, which seems to get worse when the bustling street intensifies in volume into a roaring din. Pansy pulls him under an awning, yanking at his sleeve a bit to try out her disgusting sugary coffee. She always does this whenever she wants to take his attention away from something, which means he just has to look at exactly where she’s doesn’t want him to. As his lips wrap around her lipstick-stained straw, he glances up.

Across the street, a couple strolls through a gushing crowd. Fiery red hair, airy laughter, a pale arm wrapped around her fiancé’s waist. Curls of black, sleek spectacles, a protective palm on his fiancee’s shoulder. They make the perfect picture, a vibrant oil painting. Their existence is formed from bold strokes of sunlight and starburst kisses, with the focal point being a shock of phthalo green and cadmium lemon, two minute specks that make all the difference. As all good paintings do, they pin the viewer on the spot, as if the viewer himself is a thing to behold. Then they shift away.

The exhibit moves forward and out of sight. It’s closing time, the viewer has overstayed his welcome.

Something leaps in Draco’s chest and splatters on the floor of his stomach. Placing her hand over his heart, Pansy frowns at him. She doesn’t ask why Potter stared at someone who looked like a stranger to him. Only tells him to start finding answers.

Months later, on the most awaited day in recent Wizarding history, there’s a knock on Draco’s door.

He throws on a sweater, and a throw, too, for good measure. Ambling to the door, he checks the mail slot before peeking through the peephole. Nobody but a package is outside. Draco hums and unlocks his door, crouching down the moment it opens. What feels like soft satin brushes against his cheek, cool and smooth. With a flash, a pair of shiny dress shoes appear before him.

“Draco.”

Draco peers up as he rises, hands around the package. Potter has his maddening Invisibility Cloak slung over his arm, his roguish charm heightened by a perfectly fitted three-piece suit. A tiny posy is pinned on his left lapel, muted green hellebores with a few sprigs of privet berries. He’s dressed like a man in love.

Draco feels something he hasn’t felt in months at the sight. He’s trained himself to suppress it the moment it showed itself and has been relatively successful until now. The sting, without warning, bursts from within his chest, calling forth a slight wince. Potter’s brows furrow.

"How do you know where I live?"

“How long has this been going on?”

Draco frowns. “Pardon?”

“That,” Potter gestures at Draco’s chest. “The heartache.”

He rears back. What the hell is he supposed to say to that? At Potter’s unchanging expression, Draco shoves his hair out of his face with a quiet huff and puts a hand on the doorknob.

“It’s none of your business. Please leave.”

“It is, actually,” Potter stops the closing door with one arm.

“Excuse me? We haven't had a proper conversation in more than a decade and suddenly you want to act like we're friends? Leave, now.”

“Listen to me. How can it not be my business when I feel it, too?”

“Check with a Healer, then. If you can put past grudges aside, I can hand you Pansy Parkinson’s business card,” Draco grits through his teeth, pushing against the door with his entire body, his throw slipping to the ground.

“Draco, stop, I already know, stop.”

“Know what? No, I don't care. Leave at once, else I’d alert the Aurors.”

A rough slam sends Draco staggering back. Potter pants, hard lines on his face. His chest heaves under his crisp white shirt, its top two buttons unclasped, and he steps over the threshold, closing the door.

“You think they’d believe you?”

The pain shoots from his chest to the rest of his body, and for several seconds, his lungs wouldn’t work. He whips his head away from Potter, who groans and sags against the wall.

“I told you to leave.”

“I’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to say,” Potter says immediately, sweat dotting his temples.

After an uncomfortable pause, clearing his throat, he picks up the near-forgotten package from the carpet. His hand feels around the outline of the object within, rectangular and heavy. Glancing at Draco, he says hoarsely. “I know why you bought this book.”

“Know this, know that, you know nothing,” Draco lunges forward, only for Potter to twist out of the way and raise the package out of his reach.

“The Life-long Burden of Dark Curses: A Caution by Elise Arrowlane, limited edition,” he says, unbothered by Draco’s slackened jaw. “You ordered it from the new bookstore on Diagon months ago. You were small and old and grey, but I recognized you. I always could.”

“Okay,” Draco sneers, “so you’re a stalker. Old news. Anything else?”

“There’s no need to order one. I would’ve borrowed it from Hermione if you had only asked,” Potter says. “Instead, I got curious and read it for myself. That’s how I connected the dots about the heartache, how I realized we’ve both had it since that day years ago.”

“Oh, the day you slashed me into ribbons and almost cut through my heart?” Draco clenches his jaw.

Being able to shout this ugly kind of truth into the perpetrator’s face feels oddly liberating. That is, if liberation also comes with a specific kind of agony that makes Draco want to fall to his knees.

“Dark Magic leaves a mark on both the wizard and their victim, doesn’t it? No need for a book to tell us that,” Potter says, the harsh afternoon glow of him gentled by the soft lamplight in Draco’s hallway. “In certain cases, it even leaves a link. A connection.”

Draco bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. The only consequence from that horrid night was his fucked up heart and nothing else, nothing at all. Whatever Potter is insinuating, he hates it. He hates this. He hates him.

“How are you so sure there’s a connection.”

“I wasn’t,” Potter says. “The Healers said it’s a health thing I developed after the War and I just needed to avoid strenuous activity. I didn’t think much of it, but then I read the book and realized that it usually flared up whenever you watched me.”

Scoffing, Draco turns and stalks into the kitchen. Walking past the boiling kettle, he throws a cabinet door open and grabs a mug, his hand trembling.

“Interesting how my health suffers when I see the bastard who quite literally carved me open.”

“I was eating dinner when I thought I was going to die of a heart attack at 23,” Potter continues. Draco pulls the drawers out, unable to find a single bag of tea for several excruciating moments. “The next day, I was reading about your mother’s death on the Daily Prophet. That was the first sign.”

Grabbing a rag and wetting it, Draco wipes the countertop even as he’s just done so last night.

“When Ginny saw you on the street during our date and extended her hand toward you, you shook it. But your heart ached.

“I saw you looking at the picture of Ginny and I kissing on the front page of Witch Weekly. Your hair was brown and your back was curved, but I saw you. Your heart ached.

“When I announced my engagement to her on the Battle of Hogwarts’s 10th Anniversary, you were clapping along with everyone else. But your heart ached.”

Draco throws the rag on the counter. The kettle whistles, a piercing sound. “What’s your point? Are you here purely to flaunt your relationship and imply that I’m in love with Ginevra Weasley? If so, I got it. Thank you so very much, it’s been enlightening. Now get out.”

“The point is,” Potter says, lifting the kettle off the burner to pour it into Draco’s mug, placing his tea bag in, “unless the article about you being gay was wrong, Ginny isn’t the one you’re in love with.”

“What arti—” Draco stops. “That was years ago.”

His sexuality was leaked to some irrelevant gossip rag, not even making the front page. Nobody noticed, nothing changed, and it hasn’t entered his mind in what feels like forever until Potter reminds him.

“I remember.”

“You—” Draco frowns. His eyes strain on the cup of tea until they hurt. He squeezes them shut, sighing. “It doesn’t prove anything. Perhaps I’m jealous of my childhood nemesis having a better life than me, ever thought of that?”

“Yeah,” Potter says, “I’ve thought about this a lot. Which is why I’m here. To make sure.”

Draco takes it in, then, unable to help himself, curls his lips at Potter and his attire. At his artfully gelled hair, his hanging bow tie, the elegant boutonniere on the lapel of his dark blue suit. His empty ring finger.

“Couldn’t you have chosen a better date to make sure? Preferably before your wedding day?”

Potter steps closer. A respectable distance away, but closer.

“I could’ve, but I spent most of those days in denial. Then the dots connected and I couldn’t deny it anymore, so I decided to just go through with the wedding regardless, be with the woman I loved. Hoped that maybe the odd emotions I had would go away,” he shrugs, raising his eyes to meet Draco’s. “Saw Ginny at the end of the aisle and, well, I couldn’t stop thinking that it should’ve been someone else. All this time, I’ve thought that she didn’t feel… right in my arms, but I pushed it down. And there she was in that white dress.

“Seeing that today was the last straw. I had to leave.”

Draco’s breath catches in his throat. Swallowing it down, he grabs his mug, scooping out the tea bag just to have something to do. He takes a sip without blowing, ignoring its scalding heat.

“That was stupid.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Draco can feel a headache building. “That was a horrible decision. I never imagined you—you!—out of all people, could be this irresponsible. What the fuck.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Merlin, that poor fucking woman. If your purpose here is to make me feel bad for Ginevra and all 300 of her relatives for once in my life, you’ve succeeded, congratulations.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me, say that to—oh, you’d do what you want no matter what I say, wouldn’t you?”

“Depends on the situation.”

“‘Depends on the situation,’ he says,” Draco mocks, getting a carton of milk from the fridge to save his bitter, bitter tea. Potter doesn’t reply. Stirring the milk in, Draco lets out a heavy sigh.

“What do you want me to do about this?” He says. “I didn’t make you run out of your own wedding. If you expect me to take the blame for your inane decisions, the first person I Floo wouldn’t be the Aurors, but Ginevra Weasley herself.”

A small smile graces Potter’s lips. “I don’t expect anything from you but honesty.”

Draco squints.

“And how will you know if what I say is a lie? Will you reject my genuine answer if it’s not what you want to hear?”

“That won’t be a problem,” Potter says. “I trust your heart will speak the truth for us both.”

There’s a pang in Draco’s chest, and judging from the twitch of Potter’s brow, he can feel it too. Not another word is said, the two men merely facing each other from across a tiny kitchen, considering. Draco can feel the warmth of sunlight beaming through the little window and coating his nape as he leans against the sink, earl grey on his tongue. Lovely citric notes of bergamot drift up his nose. He closes his eyes. What to do, what to do.

Weightless oxfords clack against the yellowed tiles, clear and bright in Draco’s ears. Fabric rustles as Potter slips a hand into his pocket only to retrieve it a second later. Draco lets himself be cornered, barely glancing at the wool-clad arms caging either side of his waist. A clink catches his attention, however, and he tilts his head to the left.

Millimeters beside Draco’s hand on the counter, glinting in the sun, is a wedding band. Draco knows Potter and Ginevra’s in and out, has examined the picture on that day’s issue of the Daily Prophet more times than he should have. He knows the marquise droplets of Ginevra’s gems and the chevron curve of her ring, the blankness of Potter’s own band a dream and a question in his mind.

The band that’s resting on the counter is different. Rustic gold and a fissure in the middle, the fertile earth splitting open to reveal a stream of diamonds, a sparkling river. Draco sets his mug to the side and holds the ring up close, his finger smoothing over the grooves of its texture.

“Did you make a stop at a jewelry store before breaking into my home?” He asks.

“No,” Harry murmurs. Draco looks at him in surprise. “I’ve had this with me for months.”

A pause.

“I thought you said you were in denial.”

“I was, but I knew, somewhat, that I wanted someone else,” Harry’s head lowers, slow and careful, until his forehead rests against Draco’s shoulder. “I told myself that I just liked the way it looked, had to get it in case I didn’t want the other ring anymore. But I got it a size smaller. Been carrying it in my pocket ever since.”

Draco’s heart throbs and throbs. Large hands circle his waist, bunching up the back of his sweater and pressing him close, chest to chest. A blanket of pure heat envelops his body as he breathes in the timeless saffron and neroli of cologne, half-lidded eyes pinned on the band he’s given. Oh, dear, he thinks, and again when it settles at the base of his ring finger with ease, as if it belongs there and never left. Oh, dear.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Combat.”

Wrote  this one in response to requests that I do more of Krill’s medical journals. I hope this is what you wanted to see 

To the: Intergalactic Journal of Medical Biology 

Humanity is a young species around 204,000 years old in their current modern iteration. While there have been many types of humanoid animals on their planet, The Homo Sapien Sapien as they are known scientifically and the only sub-type of human that remain having about .6% genetic variation between them despite their  range of color, height, and shape which has been openly observed by all nonhuman species.

In comparison to the Vurl or the rundi, humanity is a relatively young species still containing many of their more animalistic tendencies in comparison to species who have had more time to evolve into their sentient states. For this reason the examination of this paper revolves around human aggression, and defence. In many animals we see behaviors designed to defend or attack, either out of fear, protection or in order to impress a mate. Humans, being a sentient species use many different techniques to deal with this issue, but one of the techniques that might be considered most primitive, is their contact fighting.

Like how tall horns headbutt each other and longwings lock talons, humans have developed the ability to use their body as a weapon to the detriment of other humans. This practice has likely existed since the beginning of humanity, though through the years, and as humanity evolved, their refined and discovered different ways of -- as to use a human expression-- “Beat the shit ouf of each other..”

In more recent years this primitive form of agress, though still used to its intended purpose, has been made into a sport.

In other words humans hit each other for fun and they let other watch.

Some of these techniques include.

The slap- One of the oldest forms of human aggression which involves striking someone, across the face usually, with an open palm.

The punch- Similar to the first bud done with a closed fists, often puts the bones of the hands at risk, but puts more power into a smaller space, when the hips and legs are used through kinetic linking, the entire power of the body can come out through the hand.

The gouge- Humans do not have claws, but with the hand open and fingers slightly bent, they can use the hard keratin at the end of their fingers to inflict scratches and gouges on an opponent 

The kick- as if hitting people with your arms wasn't enough, now they have to hit people with their feet and shins. On a side note some humans punch and kick wooden poles to make their bones stronger! Yes then INTENTIONALLY inflict pain on themselves, causing MICRO FRACTURES in their own bones just so they can hit people HARDER.

The elbow - jamming the bony junction of their arm into other peoples faces, as it seems there is a location on the elbow without nerve endings, and so does not cause so much pain to the hitter but concentrates the weight on the end of a very strong bone.

The knee- similar to the elbow but with the junction of the leg. Usually aimed towards the upper abdomen, where the liver is located, because your opponents internal organs be damned.

These are the simple basics of human combat, those things that all humans have ingrained into them as instinct, however of course over time humans have developed more painful ways of hurting each other

The round kick- like kicking but with the extra step of spinning around really fast to gain momentum, is usually aimed at the face, because using your foot to hit someone in the face after spinning is SOOOO LoGiCaL 

The choke - can be done in many ways, but the general principles is if your opponent can’t breathe, than they cant win, bonus points if you crush their windpipe in the process because whoo hoo for murder.

The blood choke- its like choking accept the general principal is if no blood is going to your brain than you can’t live, so just squish the carotid arteries a little bit, not like they need those anyway 

The figure 4 choke - Choking someone like a blood choke but with your thighs because why the hell not

The Americana lock- They will submit if you screw up their joints especially the shoulder and the elbow because who the hall needs those.

An armbar - just lay your feet over their chest, grab their arm and put the elbow over your pelvis, now when you arch your back your can break their elbow joint backwards. So effective that your opponent will probably quite and give up screaming before you manage to actually do anything.

Body slam- yeah throwing your opponent to the floor violently and then falling on top of them might just work to make them regret knowing you.

Pile Driver, kind of like a body slam, accept you also use your elbow. Do you hate someone in particular? Do they need their ribcage cracked open like an egg? This might just be the technique for you 

Man of these techniques are used in combat sports, some of them for more theatrical use, but the principle remains the same. Now there are a few techniques that are generally prohibited rom fighting sports.

Head butting - why the HELL would you even think of this. Yeah I’ll just hit my head against their head that ShOuLdN’t hURt at ALl. Should work just PERFECTLY 

Groin Kick - the human imperative to survive is so aggressive that a single kick to their reproductive organs can send them into full shutdown mode, and this includes breathing problems, potential vomiting and crying like a baby

Biting - Here have all of my transmissible diseases, that should make you regret your entire life. I hope your arm gets infected and falls off 

Eye gouging - can fight me IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR EYES 

Curb Stomp - Just set someone’s chin up on a curb and then KICK THEM IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD.

WHAT KIND OF MONSTERS ARE YOU PEOPLE! My list Isn’t even finished!

MY LIST

 ISN'T 

EVEN 

FINISHED!

Why does humanity have to be so scary HHHHHRRRAAAGGGGG!

From the editing department at the: Intergalactic journal of medical biology

Dr. Krill,

We regret to inform you that your scholarly paper has been rejected for improper scholarly vocabulary, neglect to operationally define non-common language, use of onomatopoeia, and WhAtEvEr ThIs Is. Please review your submission and resubmit it to our review team. We appreciate your dedication to science.

Sincerely,

The Review Team.

[sociallyawkward--fics]

Dirty Little Secret

Hello I just finished this and I have not edited it and I am never going to reread it lol. It is probably disjointed, OOC, and incomprehensible. Welcome to my super sick and drug-induced It oneshot. Also for the title I was torn between this and ‘truth or dare’

My friends also told me I had to put this joke in the author’s notes: “I’m paying homage to the original It. King was on coke when he wrote it, and I’m on a wild amount of cold medicine and illness”

----

Summary: Miraculously, they all lived. They killed that damn clown and they lived. Now, Richie just had one last thing to say.

Word Count: 1877 words

[ao3 link]

-----------------------------------------------

The sounds of his old friends splashing around in the quarry faded around him. Distantly, as though he wasn’t in his own body, Richie could hear them cracking jokes and laughing at each other, as if the seven of them hadn’t almost just lost their lives.

As if Eddie hadn’t almost--

Richie focused on cleaning his glasses. Without them on, it was blurry and hard to tell, but he thought there was still blood embedded into the new spiderwebbing of cracks left on one of the lenses. It wouldn’t come out. Really, it could be anyone’s blood, he’d lost track of their injuries by this point. 

But Richie knew who’s it could have been. 

Bev had said the Deadlights gave her visions of their deaths, but he hadn’t known just how vivid they could be until he dropped out of them himself. He’d opened his eyes to Eddie being skewered above him, helpless to do anything but scream his name, the Loser’s a chorus of the same. Then, he blinked, and Eddie was above him laughing and cheering his “victory.”

Richie had barely rolled them out of the way in time for one of It’s massive claws to dig deep into the stone where they had been laying. Pennywise made a noise of rage, but Richie hadn’t allowed himself even a moment to think. He’d grabbed Eddie and ran.

And now here they were. They’d killed It, crushed Its heart in their hands, and Derry was safe. They were safe. Eddie was safe. Richie sat on a rock in the dirty quarry water, distantly aware of the splash wars going on while Eddie chopped his hands and told them how unsanitary it was, cleaning themselves in dirty water. Richie knew he was being unusually quiet, and someone was bound to notice soon, but he felt like if he didn’t laugh, he was going to cry.

And for once, Richie was all out of jokes.

Then, the absolute worst thing happened: Richie was dragged into the spotlight.

Apparently, the other six Losers had been recounting the “best moments” of their battle. Richie didn’t remember much, truthfully, aside from running for his life and sniveling like a little kid.

“Hey, Rich,” Beverly called. “What was that whole ‘Truth or Dare’ thing about anyway?”

Richie let out an awkward laugh, plastering a smile onto his face. He’d gotten good at it, over the years, with how much he hated his own act, but now it just felt stiff and misshapen. He waved his hands in the air as he spoke, his glasses flopping around precariously in his grip.

“Oh, you know, just something that damn clown had brought up.”

Bill laughed. “Why would he b-b-bring up Truth or D-Dare?”

Bev swam over and started poking at his sides as she laughed. They were all laughing so much. They were clearly handling the trauma far differently than him.

“Why would It use that?” She teased. “Got something you’re afraid to confess, Trashmouth?”

Richie forced out another laugh, sounding weak to his own ears. More than you know.

Instead, Richie reached for a distraction. “Yeah, how fast it took me to finish with Eddie’s mom--”

“Beep beep, asshole!” Eddie shouted, and Richie’s next laugh felt a little less desperate. Teasing Eddie was familiar and comfortable, and Richie was almost tempted to put his glasses back on to see the adorable way his jaw clenched with annoyance.

“Remember that one time Bill dared Mike to smuggle one of the sheep into his grandfather’s house?” Ben asked, and if Richie wasn’t so gone on Eddie, he could’ve kissed him. Intentionally or not, he’d just saved Richie a whole lot of floundering to keep the attention off where he wanted it least.

The group laughed and Mike shook his head with a grin. “He was so mad,” Mike said. “I thought for sure he’d make me sleep in the barn for that.”

“Or what about the t-t-time Eddie dared Richie to eat that year-old twinkie we f-found in R-R-Richie’s room,” Bill said.

Even Richie had to laugh at that one. “Yeah, where was the concern for my health there, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped, though there was no heat behind it. “Plus, those things never fucking expire. They’re garbage, but that wouldn’t have hurt you.”

“Oh yeah? It tasted as bad as your mom’s--”

Eddie splashed Richie, sending a wave of nasty quarry water into his mouth and preventing him from finishing his sentence. He sputtered and coughed, laughing as he spit it out, and the weight of everything felt a little less oppressive now that he was laughing with them all.

“Oh!” Bev said, “What about the time Stan dared Bill--”

Richie grinned as he went back to trying to dig the blood out of the cracks in his glasses with his nails. They were short and stubby, so it wasn’t exactly easy, but he managed to make some progress. This time, though, he made sure not to tune his friends out. He listened to each of their stories, letting their laughter wrap around him like a warm, worn, familiar blanket, just like he had always been searching for when they were kids, and slowly felt his shoulders relax. And as they were laughing, the thought occurred to Richie.

What was he so afraid of?

This was Richie’s family. After everything they’d been through, killer alien clowns and all, would his sexuality really be the thing to break them? It’d be a little silly at that point, Richie thought. 

A little silly, and a lot unfair. And who knew how they’d react? He’d seen them all in their underwear, shared blankets and chairs and beds with them, held them close (he wished he could do that now, but he wasn’t brave enough to be so touchy as an adult). What if they accused him of taking advantage of them when they hadn’t known? What if they were disgusted by him? What if they forgot him again, but this time by choice?

Richie was forced out of his thoughts when someone shrieked, and he promptly realized he’d allowed himself to tune everyone out again as he catastrophized. His head shot up at the shriek, his heart pounding in panic. Instead of a psychotic clown or a gruesome murder, Richie caught sight of Ben, who had seemingly heaved Beverly out of the water, tossing Bev as far as he could back into the murky water. She came up sputtering and laughing, arguing that whatever she’d said had definitely happened, no matter what he said.

Bill and Mike were leaning on each other from the force of their laughter. Ben had a sly grin on his face, though the corner of his lip was twisted a little in embarrassment as Bev kept hounding at him. Stan wasn’t outright laughing so much as he was grinning, but that was pretty much the same thing when it came to him. Eddie was laughing so hard that his cheeks had gone pink.

Richie promptly realized that if he didn’t do it now, he was never going to get up the courage to do it again.

“I’m gay,” Richie said loudly, the words echoing uncomfortably across the quarry.

The sounds of splashing and play fighting stopped and Richie heard more than saw everyone turn toward him. He kept his glasses off, eyes focused on his hands. If he had to look at them, see them clearly, he wouldn’t get through this. Every cell in his being was telling him to bury this with a joke, to move on and make a funny and forget the whole thing, but he couldn’t. Not this time. He needed to stop hiding.

“I’m gay,” he said again, quieter this time. “That’s why It brought up ‘Truth or Dare.’ Because I wouldn’t want anyone to pick truth.”

Richie kept his head down, but he heard the others moving through the water. He startled when he felt Bev’s arms wrap around one of his own. Richie looked up and saw his friends (or, really, saw blobs shaped vaguely like his friends) all coming toward him, wrapping themselves around him where he sat.

Ben curled himself around Richie’s knee, right below Bev. On Richie’s other side, Mike, Bill, and Stan all crushed in trying to wrap around him in some way. Mike ended up wrapped around Richie’s leg, which probably looked ridiculous, if only Richie could see, while Bill and Stan curled up around his arm and side. Then, Eddie came up behind Richie, wrapping his arms carefully around Richie’s shoulders and resting his head on Richie’s own (probably taking advantage of being taller than Richie, for the moment).

“We’re proud of you, Rich,” Stan said quietly.

Tears stung at Richie’s eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He sat there for a few minutes, soaking in their warmth and care, closing his eyes and letting peace finally overcome him. The secret, his dirty little secret, had finally been aired. He didn’t need to be scared of it anymore, at least not in this small circle (coming out as a public figure was an entirely different story, and Richie sure as fuck wasn’t ready for that yet). Pennywise’s words, echoing in his head since they were said, finally began to quiet.

“Thank you,” Rich said eventually, his shields formed from humor finally coming back up. He could only handle so much emotional vulnerability without making a joke. “I don’t have my glasses on so I don’t know who you people are, but thank you.”

Richie’s friends laughed, and he could feel Eddie’s chin brushing against his head with the force of Eddie’s eyeroll. Richie himself chuckled a little, blinking to clear the lingering tears from his eyes before they could fall. It was then that he noticed his hands: one clasped tightly between Ben and Beverly’s fingers, and the other resting on one of Eddie’s arms, Stan’s hand resting atop his.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled.

He felt more than saw (seeing as he couldn’t see) Beverly and Mike look up at him.

“I legit can’t find my glasses.”

A chorus of “Are you serious?” met Richie’s ears and he almost laughed again, but it was true. Sometime between the six of them latching onto him, Richie’s glasses had completely vanished.

Richie settled in where he sat as the others went off to find his glasses, diving beneath the water and arguing between themselves. The only person who didn’t move away was Eddie, who shifted from standing behind him to sitting next to him. As he heard Bev laugh, followed by a splash (Richie would bet money she just dunked Ben, the two had been attached at the hip and making heart eyes at each other since they escaped Neibolt), he felt Eddie grab his right hand and interlock their fingers.

There was a distinct lack of cold, wet metal as Eddie squeezed his hand, and Richie swore his heart skipped more than a few beats.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one with a secret, Richie thought as Eddie’s head leaned against his shoulder for a few seconds. And maybe, just maybe, Richie wouldn’t have to go home and face his nightmares alone after this.

[ichigo-daifuku]

Ruffled Feathers

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Pairing: Hawks/Todoroki Fuyumi Genre: Fluff, (Attempt at) Humor, Secret Relationship Word Count: 2.1k | AO3 Link

Synopsis: Fuyumi receives a plush toy of a certain Pro Hero as a gift from her students. No, it isn’t Endeavor. It isn’t her secret boyfriend, Hawks, either. Much to Keigo’s dismay, her students picked someone else, and it’s Edgeshot.

It happened on a Friday evening.

Keigo and Fuyumi agreed to meet for dinner at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant he frequented when he dropped by Musutafu. No one knew of their relationship yet, and it was the perfect location for a date night. The restaurant was quaint, unassuming, and situated in a discreet street mainly those who resided nearby visited. Fuyumi had loved it at first sight. She was surprised at how Keigo knew of it when she didn’t—she was the one who grew up in Musutafu while he was from Fukuoka! He explained how it was all thanks to his excellent sense of direction, and that led from one subject to another. Soon, it became a regular spot for their secret rendezvous. The food was outstanding, and it came to be their goal to try every dish on the menu.

Tonight, that would be karaage, which Keigo had been looking forward to all week.

The two of them sat in front of each other, waiting for their orders. As they chatted about the recent happenings in their lives, the item on the extra seat, resting beside Fuyumi’s bag, piqued Keigo’s interest.

“Hm? What’s that?” he asked, his eyes trained on the object in question.

“This one?” Fuyumi’s eyes lit up at the mention of the gift bag. She placed it on the table and explained, “I was quite surprised, but it’s a gift from the kids in my class.”

She unfolded the card attached to the handle and showed it to him. The message inside, scribbled by the class president, said: Todoroki-sensei, thank you for everything! We hope you like it! Signed at the bottom was the name of her homeroom class with a happy face beside it.

“Cute,” Keigo noted with a pleasant smile, mentally taking a guess why her students would give her a surprise gift. “Was there an occasion?”

“We had a talent show last week. I guess the kids had a lot of fun.”

“I’m sure they did,” he said and meant every word. He knew how much Fuyumi enjoyed teaching at the elementary school and thought it was nice to see her receiving love from her students.

“I’m curious to see what’s inside.” She began to unseal the washi tape on top of the gift bag. “It’s from the kids, though, so I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Keigo, who had received training provided by the Hero Public Safety Commission instead of formal education during his younger years, wondered what kind of presents school kids gave their teachers.

It was, however, the last thing he expected it to be.

Fuyumi peeked inside the bag and exclaimed, “It’s Edgeshot!”

His eyes widened in shock and alarm, taken aback. “E-Edgeshot?!”

“That’s right.”

“No way! Haha! You don’t mean that Edgeshot, right?”

“There’s no other Edgeshot other than Pro Hero Edgeshot, I think.” She laughed at what she thought was a joke he made and pulled the item out of the gift bag, showing it to him with a sunny smile. “Look! Isn’t he cute?”

He did as she asked and stared at it, unable to believe his eyes.

It was truly Edgeshot—in his chibi plush toy form.

And he, most definitely, was not cute.

“Fuyumi,” Keigo began with feigned nonchalance, except if his laser-like gaze could burn a hole through the plush toy, it would already have one. He wondered why, out of all the Pro Heroes in Japan, her students picked Edgeshot. The strain in his voice betrayed his bluff as he asked, “Do you like… Edgeshot?”

“He’s great, I guess? I mean, he is the Number Four Hero. The kids are fans of him and—”

“I’m Number Two, though,” Keigo bragged, puffing up his feathers. “Between the two of us, I’m the cooler guy.”

She nodded, chuckling. “Why, yes, of course. That’s right.”

He grimaced, unable to confirm if she agreed a hundred percent with him when she sounded as if she was placating a hatchling. A certain thought popped inside his mind, uncovering a silver lining in this dark cloud. 

That’s it! Keigo thought. That’s the reason why her students chose that as a gift!

“I see,” he declared with a clap of his hands, pleased with his epiphany, “do you, perhaps, collect Pro Hero merch?”

“Not really,” she replied, creating a fracture on his optimistic fantasy, “Well, I do have a few of Dad’s, of course.”

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“Huh?” He leaned back, startled, but refused to let go of his last shred of hope. “How about the merch of a certain Wing Hero?”

“Er, about that…” Fuyumi fidgeted in her seat, finally understanding what he was getting at. She returned the Edgeshot plush toy back inside the gift bag and reluctantly admitted, “I… don’t have any.”

Keigo felt as if someone had poured cold water on him. 

“Oh,” he muttered lamely. Wings fluffed up, he sent one of his feathers into his hands and preened it while staring into space. Yes, Fuyumi didn’t look like the type of person to collect Pro Hero merchandise. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen her with one, either. He was reluctant to admit it, but he was jealous. How come her students thought an Edgeshot plush toy was a more suitable gift for Fuyumi than a Hawks one?

“Here’s your karaage!” the waiter chimed in, set their orders in front of them, and refilled their tea.

However, even the karaage, which Keigo had been eagerly anticipating, did nothing to cheer him up.

“I’m so sorry, Keigo,” Fuyumi lamented, rousing him from his reverie, “It just… never crossed my mind.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not your fault,” he replied, internally reproaching himself for making her feel responsible for his silly reaction. “Besides, even if you aren’t a Hawks fangirl, you’re my girlfriend.”

“That’s right, but I am a fan of you, though.” She picked up her chopsticks and placed a piece of chicken from her plate between them, lifting it near his lips. “You’re my number one. Don’t be sad, please?”

Ugh, how come she knew just what to say to raise his spirits? His lips twitched as he opened his mouth and received her peace offering. The karaage was delicious. Most importantly, she said he was her number one. Nothing could top that. His bleak mood dissipated, and his face broke into a genuine smile, one that she returned with a relieved one of her own.

Still, Keigo couldn’t help but think about it later that night. Fuyumi had Endeavor merchandise, which was to be expected. As a matter of fact, he thought it was great how they had another thing in common. Now, however, Fuyumi had Endeavor and Edgeshot goods, but zero Hawks collectibles.

That couldn’t be. He had to do something about it.

A few days later, a package was delivered to the Todoroki abode. It was a large box sealed with ‘fragile’ tapes and addressed to Fuyumi. Written in the sender’s address was the Hawks Hero Agency in Fukuoka.

Truth be told, Fuyumi expected something like this to happen and had an inkling of what the contents of the box would be. Although it was unintentional, a pang of guilt remained within her mind for making him feel dejected during their long-awaited dinner date. When she arrived home that night, she did her research on Hawks’s merchandise and found out they were some of the most sought-after and top-selling products. The ones she had her eyes on would be a challenge to obtain. She was planning to hunt for a few, but if her hunch were correct, it would seem he had beaten her to it. He was a man who was too fast, she had to agree.

She transferred the box to her room and sat on the tatami. With its size, she believed it would take a while to get to each item Keigo included. Carefully, she unsealed it and was welcomed by the sight of bubble wrap—lots of it. Her suspicions were confirmed; the package was filled with Pro Hero merchandise—all of them the Wing Hero’s. They came in different shapes and sizes, and several of them even had their own boxes.

Fuyumi picked a random box and gasped. It was one of the items she was planning to scour the shops for: a Hawks Nendoroid. Beside it was a Hawks Pop! Vinyl Figure, a prize figure, and another box which had a shiny ‘limited edition’ sticker in front of it. He sent her a set of socks, too. She couldn’t decide if the pair based on the colors of this hero costume or the pair with red wings as its pattern was the cutest. There was also an oversized t-shirt with the characters for ‘Fierce Wings’ in front and an illustration of red wings at the back. In a smaller container, she came across various rubber keystraps, a few acrylic standees, and other small trinkets. The item that stood out the most to Fuyumi and made her laugh was the Hawks chibi plush toy, which she recognized was from the same line as the Edgeshot one she received from her students.

If anyone saw these, she had no doubt they would take her to be a diehard Hawks fangirl, but Fuyumi found she wouldn’t mind it. As Keigo told her last time, she was more than that—she was his girlfriend. The memory of him stating it with such conviction made butterflies flutter inside her stomach.

Soon, Fuyumi was down to the final product in the package which was a long black rectangular box. She untied the ribbon, lifted the lid, and set them aside. Cushioned inside it was a single crimson feather.

“A quill?” she murmured, twirling it between her thumb and index finger in scrutiny. “Wow, it looks so realistic!”

The quill, however, was untapered and unprepared for use. Perhaps, this product was one of those ‘do-it-yourself’ projects? Upon double-checking the package, though, she found no ink pot to pair it with. Even so, she had no complaints, especially since these were gifts from Keigo. Confused, she typed the words ‘Hawks Quill’ on an online search engine but found irrelevant results. Did Keigo send her a product sample to try out in exchange for an honest review?

Unless…

Fuyumi raised the feather in her hand closer to her face and blinked.

Would he really do something like that? She mulled over the question for a moment, her cheeks setting aflame when she came to the conclusion. He would.

“Can you hear me?” she whispered into the feather, suddenly feeling silly, “Or maybe not?”

The vane close to her lips swayed. It tickled her cheek the way his finger would when he caressed her face.

“Keigo, I just wanted to say thank you,” she paused, certain he was able to sense her, at the very least, “See you soon.”

Before cold feet could set in, Fuyumi pressed a soft and quick kiss to the feather. Her heart raced as she rushed to return it to the box. Overtaken by shyness, she covered her face with her hands and turned the other way, wondering if he felt it.

Endeavor and Hawks made their way to the entrance of the Hero Public Safety Commission. They teamed up for a short mission a few days ago and were back to report to the higher-ups.

Hawks, who had been chatting incessantly about pigeons, stopped in his tracks all of a sudden, causing him to lag behind.

Endeavor had grown used to Hawks’s odd behavior and antics, but he was, nevertheless, still vexed. He spun around and snapped his fingers in front of the younger hero’s dazed and flushed face. Hawks practically had hearts in his eyes, and he had spread his wings without realizing it.

What a distasteful sight, Endeavor thought. “What are you staring into space for?! Focus, boy! We are going to an important meeting!”

“I can’t.”

“And why the hell not, you fool?”

“I just got a kiss from Fuyumi.”

“What does that have to do with—” The words Hawks uttered registered in Endeavor’s mind. “Fuyumi?”

“My girlfriend.”

“You got a what from who? Which Fuyumi are you talking about? Answer correctly, or else!”

“I just got a kiss from my girlfriend…” Still in a daze, the gravity of the situation failed to strike Hawks’s mind. If it did, he didn’t seem to mind it much, having the nerve to smile at Endeavor as he continued, “Todoroki Fuyumi.”

The flames on Endeavor’s mask and hero costume flared. He grabbed the lovestruck Hawks by the collar and roared, “WHAT?!”

Notes: I wrote this because of what happened in Chapter 303. If you know, you know! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

I hope this made you laugh—or smile, at least. Thank you for reading!

BNHA Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[lingthusiasm]

Transcript Lingthusiasm Episode 52: Writing is a technology

This is a transcript for Lingthusiasm Episode 52: Writing is a technology. It’s been lightly edited for readability. Listen to the episode here or wherever you get your podcasts. Links to studies mentioned and further reading can be found on the Episode 52 show notes page.

[Music]

Gretchen: Welcome to Lingthusiasm, a podcast that’s enthusiastic about linguistics! I’m Gretchen McCulloch.

Lauren: I’m Lauren Gawne. Today, we’re getting enthusiastic about writing as a technology. But first, do you wish there was more Lingthusiasm to listen to? Even though this is Episode 52, we have almost a hundred episodes of Lingthusiasm. Some of them exist as bonus episodes over at our Patreon.

Gretchen: If you want to listen to those and have more Lingthusiasm in your earballs, you can go to patron.com/lingthusiasm. This also helps keep the show ad-free. If you like listening to a show without ads, help us keep doing that.

Lauren: The Patreon also fosters this wonderful linguistics enthusiastic community. In fact, we have a Discord server, which is basically just a wonderful chat space for people to talk about linguistics. There are over 350 people on the Lingthusiasm Discord right now.

Gretchen: If you wish you had other lingthusiasts to talk to to share your interesting linguistics anecdotes and memes and general nerdery, and you want more people like that to talk to, you can join the Patreon to also get access to the Discord. We launched the Discord community just a year ago, and it’s been really fun to see it grow and thrive and take on a life of its own since then. If you are already a patron, and you haven’t linked your Patreon and Discord account together, it’s there waiting for you. Feel free to come join us.

Lauren: We have Patreon supporter levels at a range of tiers. Some of them include additional merch. One of my favourite perks is the very scientific Lingthusiasm IPA quiz where we send you a short quiz and then we give you your own custom IPA character which is enshrined on our Wall of Fame.

Gretchen: It’s a fun quiz. We have fun looking at people’s answers.

Lauren: Our most recent bonus episode is a collection of some of our favourite anecdotes from interviews and from other episodes that didn’t quite make it into the original episode. We’re delighted to share those in that bonus episode.

Gretchen: You get to see a bit behind-the-scenes with that episode. Also, do you want more linguistics on your favourite other podcasts?

Lauren: Always.

Gretchen: Constantly. We’re also very happy to do podcast interviews on other shows about various topics. If there’re other podcasts that you like that you wish would do a linguistics episode and interview one of us, you should tell them that! We’re happy to come on. Tag us both or something on social media or tell your favourite podcasts that they could do a linguistics episode because we’d be happy to do that.

[Music]

Lauren: Gretchen, do you remember learning how to read?

Gretchen: Not really. I mean, I remember encountering the alphabet chart in my first year of school, but I already sort of knew the alphabet at that point. I guess there was some point when I didn’t know how to read, and there was some point when I did, but I don’t really have concrete memories of that. Do you remember learning how to read?

Lauren: I feel like I have more memories of learning how to write, just because that’s such a mechanical thing. I remember sitting there writing out a row of As. I definitely wrote the number “five” backward for way longer than I probably should have, which is a really common thing that happens when kids are learning to write because it is a combination of brain skills and fine motor skills. But reading in English is something I feel like I’ve always just been able to do. I mean, I guess in comparison learning to read Nepali, which is written in a different script – it’s written in the Devanagari script – I have more memories of that because I did that in my 20s. Even now, I still feel the real disconnect between being relatively able to chat and really struggling to read and write. I still have to put my finger under the words as I’m going through, whereas with English it just feels like the words are beaming straight into my brain because I learnt to read that language so early in my life.

Gretchen: Yeah, I read at this automatic level. I can’t see a sign that says, “Stop,” on it and not read it in Latin script. But in undergrad I took both Ancient Greek and Arabic. In Greek, I got to the point – because the script is sort of similar enough and I was familiar enough with the letters previously-ish – that I got to the point where I could very slowly sound out words as I was reading them out loud because we had to do a lot of reading aloud in Greek class. But in Arabic, I was very much at that hooked on phonics level where you’re like, /p/-/t/-/k/-/a/. There are a few words that I have as sight words in Arabic. One of them is the word for “and,” which is “waa”, and one of the words for “the,” which is “al”, and one of them is the word for “book” because “kitaab” just shows up all the time. But most of the words I had to painstakingly sound out each letter and then listen to myself as I was saying them. I’d be like, “Oh, it’s that word,” even if I knew it, which is this process that I must’ve gone through in English, but I don’t remember doing it for the Latin script.

Lauren: I think that is one of the things that makes it really hard for people who grow up in highly literate, highly educated societies to tease writing and reading apart from language. But actually, when you step back, you realise that writing is actually super weird.

Gretchen: It’s so weird! It’s this interesting – it really is a technology. It’s a thing you do on top of language to do stuff with language, but it’s not the language itself. There are thousands and possibly millions of languages that have never been written down in the history of humanity. We have no idea. We’ve never met a society of humans, or heard of a society of humans, without language. But those are spoken and signed languages, which are just kind of there. Writing, by contrast, was invented somewhere between 3 and 4 times in the history of humanity.

Lauren: That we know of.

Gretchen: That we know of.

Lauren: There might’ve been a society that did a very ephemeral form of snow writing that we have lost forever. But we have records of 3 or 4 times.

Gretchen: It’s been invented a handful of times. There are a few other cases where there are scripts that haven’t been deciphered by modern humans. Maybe they’re scripts, maybe they’re not – it’s not quite clear. But it’s definitely a handful of number of times. And then once other cultures come in contact with the technology of writing, they’re like, “Oh, this is cool. Let’s adapt this to our linguistic situation,” and it gets borrowed a heck of a lot. But it only got cemented a few times.

Lauren: It’s worth saying that “3 to 4” is a bit squishy because it’s not entirely clear if cuneiform, which is a very pointy form of writing from Babylonia, somehow inspired the Egyptian system that became what we know as the hieroglyphs or if they just happened around the same time by coincidence are something we may never really fully put together. That’s a very contested situation. That’s why we can’t even pin down the number of times we think it was invented.

Gretchen: Cuneiform is the one that’s made with the sharpened reed that you push into your clay tablets or, if you’re some people on the internet, into your gingerbread because there’s some really excellent examples of cuneiform gingerbread tablets people have made, which I just wanna – yeah, it’s really great. The Egyptian hieroglyphs people have seen. But yeah, it’s unclear whether they were in contact with each other and kind of heard of each other in a very loose sense and were inspired by each other because there was some amount of contact between those two areas, or if that was elsewhere. The other two – one is in Mesoamerica, in modern-day Mexico and that area, where they had a writing system there that, again, developed into lots of different scripts as it got borrowed from different areas, of which the best deciphered is the Mayan script from the 3rd Century BCE. There’s also the Olmec script, which is probably the oldest. The Zapotec script is also really old. There’s a bunch of scripts in the modern-day Mexico area that also developed independently.

Lauren: Then the final system arose in China around the Bronze Age a couple of thousand years BCE. Because this script was mostly found in its most earliest forms on oracle bones, it’s known as the “oracle bone” script.

Gretchen: What is an oracle bone?

Lauren: They are turtle bones that are used in divination.

Gretchen: Oh.

Lauren: Yeah.

Gretchen: And, again, the Chinese script, once it developed further, it was also, yeah, influenced a bunch of the other writing systems in the area.

Lauren: I find it super fascinating, with absolutely no historical knowledge or insight to bring to this, that in these three different places that were completely separate and going about their own cultural lives writing arose at a similar time around 3,000 to 4,000 years ago.

Gretchen: Yeah! You wonder what was in the water or something. Well, and it’s partially, I think, that there’s a certain level of writing makes it easier to do things like administrative bureaucracy if you’re trying to keep track of whether people paid their taxes or – it’s a very empire-y thing to have is to develop a writing system.

Lauren: Oh yeah. And it’s absolutely worth stating that it’s not like three people in these three different locations all woke up on the same Tuesday 4,000 years ago and were like, “I’m gonna write a long letter to someone.”

Gretchen: Did they have Tuesdays 4,000 years ago?

Lauren: What you see is this emergence of, “I’m just gonna make a couple of notes so I know how much money you owe me.” Some of the earliest cuneiform tablets we have are just, like, beer supply stock takes.

Gretchen: Like, “Three oxes and this many baskets of grain” or whatever.

Lauren: I feel like it’s very human to be like, “We love writing because it’s poetry, and I can send letters to people I love,” and it’s like, no, it’s actually, “I just wanted to know how much you owe me.”

Gretchen: The king just wants to know if these people have paid their taxes.

Lauren: So, what you get is – although I’m like, “Oh, it all happened within similar millennia,” it is actually centuries of development from just keeping tabs on a few items to a fully fleshed out written system.

Gretchen: What types of things people thought were important to write down – things like legal codes and stuff like that – one of the interesting things that I came across when I was looking this up was that there’s a person named Enheduanna, who is the earliest known poet whose name has been recorded. She was the high priestess of the goddess Inanna and the moon god Nanna in the Sumerian city-state of Ur. There we go. But authorship shows up much later than some anonymous civil servant keeping track of who’s registered which grain or some anonymous priest or something keeping track of who’s made various offerings. This idea of like, “Oh, you’re gonna write poetry,” is a step later.

Lauren: Filing your tax is what is actually one of the best links you have to those ancient civilisations.

Gretchen: There’s this Egyptian named Ptahhotep – that’s “Pta,” P-T, even though I know I’m not pronouncing it that way – he was a vizier in Egypt. He’s also one of the first named writers, the first book in history – or people call him the first book in history – because he wrote these Maxims of Ptahhotep. There may have been people who were writing on more perishable materials that didn’t get recorded and stuff like that. It’s this whole process of, “Okay, I’m going to draw these little diagrams of oxen or something or draw these little diagrams of this plant or this animal or whatever to record what types of things get recorded.” But then in order for it to actually become a writing system, there’s also this step of abstraction that has to happen. This is when you start saying, “Okay, well, the word for this very easily visualisable thing” – so I’m thinking of oxen because the word for “ox” in one of the Semitic languages, I think, was something like /alef/. And so, this “ox’s head” gets transformed into, “Okay, what if this is the sound at the beginning of the word for ‘ox’s head,’” which is /alef/, and it gets transformed into our modern letter A, which is “alpha.” “Alpha” in Greek is just the name of the letter. It’s not “an ox’s head” in Greek anymore because the Greeks borrowed it form the Phoenicians. This level of abstraction that has to go from, “Okay, I’m gonna draw an ox’s head” – if you turn a capital A upside down, it kind of looks like an ox’s head.

Lauren: It’s got its little horns, which are the feet of an A.

Gretchen: Yeah, and there’re all these related languages. You know, Arabic’s got alif at the beginning, even though it doesn’t look like an ox’s head anymore. Hebrew’s got an alef, and Greek’s got an alpha, and all of these alphabets that begin with A. It’s this level of abstraction where you can use this thing to stand for this thing that was associated with an ox.

Lauren: There’re a couple of main different ways that you can relate these abstract images that you’re putting down in writing to the language that you are trying to capture. Of course, being a linguistics podcast, I was gonna bring this straight back to the structure of language.

Gretchen: Well, I think it’s interesting to look at the structure of languages in different areas of the world, and how people reflect those in the writing systems that are developed for those languages. When they borrow a writing system for a language with a very different structure, they end up doing certain adaptations to account for not just like, “Okay, languages have different sounds,” but also those sounds are organised and structured in different ways with relationship to each other. The writing systems often reflect some of that history.

Lauren: The Latin alphabet that both of us are most familiar with has a very approximate correspondence between each character of the writing system and a sound in the language. And I say “approximate” because English spelling is a wonderful historical record of how some of those sound changes have changed over time. I’m just gonna keep this upbeat. You can fall down a giant well of English writing system problems, but to get to a point where the majority of letters have a pretty stable correspondence to sounds that we recognise as phones in the language, and that allows us to write out the words of English.

Gretchen: One of the things that’s true about a lot of the Indo-European languages is that they have a particular ratio between consonants and vowels in the words, where they have a fair bit of consonants in relationship to their vowels but not a ton. You can see this in the writing system because the writing system represents consonants and vowels separately. And yet, when the Greeks were borrowing the alphabet from the Phoenicians – Phoenician is a Semitic language like modern-day Arabic and Hebrew – that alphabet only had consonants in it – letters for consonants – because the vowels were not that important. This is still true of modern-day Semitic languages is they’re often written in writing systems that don’t represent the vowels or kind of optionally represent the short vowels, or sometimes they represent the long vowels, but they’re often written in writing systems where the vowels can be omitted. That’s not really a thing you can do very well in Indo-European languages and still have things understood because the vowels carry enough information that you need to represent them somehow.

Lauren: Even when you have a phonemic script, it’s not necessary to always represent all of the sounds to convey the language.

Gretchen: Right. Then conversely, there are other languages where the vowels are even more important and, in fact, every consonant comes with a vowel or virtually every consonant comes with a vowel. In those, you often get what are called “syllabaries,” where they represent one syllable at a time, because why bother with representing each of these things separately when in every context where you have a consonant there’s gonna be a nearby vowel – or in virtually every context there’s gonna be a nearby vowel – and so you can have a symbol that just represents the whole syllable there. That’s also a structure that doesn’t work very well for Indo-European languages because they don’t have that many vowels. There’s this spot of like they have important enough vowels that you need to represent the vowels somehow but not so important are vowels that you have to represent lots of vowels all the time, whereas languages like Japanese or Hindi – well, Hindi’s Indo-European, but it’s got more vowels, I guess.

Lauren: The Devanagari writing system is inherently focused on the syllable, which is a very different approach to reading. Each character of this writing system, if there’s no vowel specified, it just comes with a bonus vowel. It’s like, “Buy this consonant, get this free letter A sound.”

Gretchen: Right. That’s partly a feature of the writing system, but it can only be a feature of the writing system because it’s already a feature of the language. A similar thing goes for a language like Chinese, where a lot of things are based around a syllable.

Lauren: Then you can go a level of abstraction further where your character in the writing system represents a word-level thing and doesn’t have a direct relationship to the sound correspondence, which is what happens with the Chinese script.

Gretchen: I think it’s important to recognise that there is a phonetic component to Chinese characters. They often make use of – especially for words that are more abstract – it’s not just like, “Oh, here’s a bunch of little pictures that we’ve drawn,” because that’s not capable of conveying abstract concepts like grammatical particles and words for things that don’t come with easy pictures. And so, making use of, “Okay, a lot of our words are one or two syllables long, so here’s a word that’s relatively easy to visualise that sounds very similar to a word that is not as easy to visualise.” We can just add a thing to be like, “It sounds like this, but it’s got a meaning more related to this,” and you can be like, “Oh, it must be this more abstract word.” The classic example, which I’m definitely gonna do the tones wrong on, is that the word for “horse” is /ma/, and the word for mother is also /ma/ with a different tone, and you can add the little horse semantic component with the woman semantic component and be like, “Oh, it’s the word that sounds like ‘horse’ but has to do with something with a woman,” and then you end up with “mother.”

Lauren: This works for languages in China because they tend to be not as long as words in English. We like to add all these extra bits of morphology within our grammar, whereas, again, you get – not a direct rule force – but you get this general tendency where the writing system kind of fits with the vibe of the grammar of the language.

Gretchen: One example of that is in Japanese where they were heavily influenced by the Chinese script, but Japanese actually does have suffixes and other little grammatical words and things you need to change about words. They made some of the Chinese characters that had formerly only had semantic things into just like, “Oh, this makes this sound, and this makes this sound,” because they needed to be able to represent that morphological information that’s not super important in Chinese but is very important in Japanese. You end up adapting a script into something else when it gets borrowed in a different context. Another interesting example here is Farsi or Persian which is an Indo-European language that’s conventionally written with the same script as Arabic except it’s also had a couple of additional letters added because Persian has a P and Arabic doesn’t. They had to create a symbol for the sound P, which is why you get “Farsi” instead of “Parsi” because Arabic doesn’t pronounce that P. So, it makes the P into an F. Sometimes you get people adding additional letters like adding a letter for P. Sometimes you get adapting whole sets of a script.

Lauren: Sometimes you lose letters. English had distinct characters for /θ/ and /ð/ until it was technologically easier to just use the characters in the printing press that English had borrowed. It’s makes me a little bit sad. But also, it makes international people – maybe it’s a little bit easier.

Gretchen: We used to have a thorn for the /ð/ sound, but those early printing presses from continental Europe didn’t have thorns on them. I mean, Icelandic still has thorns. One of the things that I think is more interesting in the closer to modern era – not strictly modern era – is cultures and peoples that are familiar with the idea of writing yet take the idea of writing and say, “We’re gonna make our own homegrown script that actually works really well for our particular language.” One of my favourites is the Cherokee syllabary, which was invented by Sequoyah, who was a Cherokee man who didn’t know how to read in English, but he’d encountered the Latin-based writing system in English. He thought it was cool that the English speakers had this, and so he locked himself in shed for several years and came up with a syllabary for Cherokee. Some of the symbols on the Cherokee syllabary look something like Latin letters, but they stand for completely different things because he wasn’t just learning to read from English. Some of them are completely different. This became hugely popular among the Cherokee in the area. There were newspapers in this in the 1800s. There was very high literacy in Cherokee country. It was really popular. It’s even still found on modern-day computer keyboards and stuff like this. You can get Windows and stuff in Cherokee. It’s this interesting example of that’s one where we can say a particular person was inspired by writing systems but also created his own thing that became very popular.

Lauren: The thing that makes Cherokee so compelling to me is not only did he come up with an incredibly elegant, well thought out, suits the language system, but that he actually got uptake as well – that the community decided to use this as the writing system that they would learn to read and write in, and that it had uptake. It’s very easy to come up with ways of improving the technology of writing but, as I think you’re fond of saying, language is very much an open-source project. You can come up with really elegant solutions, but if no one else is gonna take them up, that’s not gonna be very helpful. So, Sequoyah’s work is doubly amazing for that reason.

Gretchen: People actually made printing presses with the Cherokee symbols and were using those. Another interesting case of this disconnect between a person or people coming up with a system and actual uptake of it is Korean, which has what I think linguists generally agree is just the best writing system.

Lauren: Yeah, we’re like, “Writing as a technology is amazing. All writing systems are equally valid. But Korean is particularly great.”

Gretchen: “But Korean’s really cool.” The thing that’s cool about it from a completely biased linguist perspective is that the writing system of Korean, Hangul, the script, is not just based on individual sounds or phonemes, it’s actually at a more precise level based on the shape of the mouth and how you configure the mouth in order to make those particular sounds. There’s a lot of, okay, here are these closely related sounds – let’s say you make them all with the lips – and you just add an additional stroke to make it this other related sound that you make with the lips. Between P and B and M, which are all made with the lips, those symbols have a similar shape. It’s not an accident. It’s very systematic between that and the same thing with T and D and N. Those have a similar shape because they have this relationship. It’s very technically beautiful from an analysis of language perspective.

Lauren: I love this so much that when we were prototyping a potential script for the Aramteskan language for the Shadowscent books, when I was constructing that language, I also started constructing a script that we never used anywhere, but it was helpful to think about how the characters would write and what writing implements they would use. If you look at the script, you’ll notice that the letter P and B are very similar, but B has an additional stroke. T and D are very similar, but D has an additional stroke. Very much feature driven. And then for the vowels – it’s roughly a quadrant in the writing space – the /i/ vowel is in the top left of the quadrant, the /u/ vowel is in the top right of the quadrant, the /a/ vowel is in the bottom left of the quadrant.

Gretchen: So clever!

Lauren: It was actually just for really selfish reasons that I decided to go with a feature-based system, and that is that it was easier for me to remember if I used the features of the language and made sure that the voiced sound was always identical to the voiceless one but just with an additional stroke. It meant that I only had to remember half the characters.

Gretchen: That’s very elegant. The easy to remember bit is also true about the Hangul script because it’s got so much regularity. The famous quote about Hangul is something like “A wise man can learn it in an afternoon and a foolish man can learn it in a day.”

Lauren: So catchy!

Gretchen: There’s probably a better version of that quote. What’s interesting about it from an adoption perspective is that Hangul was invented by Sejong the Great.

Lauren: Appropriately named.

Gretchen: Who has a national holiday now because of the script. But it was created in 1443. It’s not quite clear whether it was him personally doing everything or whether he had an advisory committee of linguists, but it’s really extremely well-adapted to the linguistic situation of Korean in particular. Even though it’s just also really cool for how it represents the inside of the mouth, but it’s really well adapted for Korean. It was invented in 1443, but it wasn’t popularised in use until several centuries later because for a long time Korean was also using, like Japanese, this adapted version of the Chinese script or adapted version of the Japanese script because of the cultural influences. In the early 20th century, they were doing a much bigger literacy push in Korea to be like, “What want everyone to learn how to read.” And they said, “Okay, we’re gonna have an orthographic reform, and we’re gonna use this script which has this very nice historical pedigree but also is much easier to learn than this complicated thing that we had done that wasn’t really designed for Korean.” It’s got this historical antecedence but also it came back in the modern-day. Now, everything in Korean is written in it. It’s because it’s really easy to learn how to read and write in. The historical uptake wasn’t immediate. It wasn’t during King Sejong’s lifetime where they were like, “Oh, yeah, now we’re all gonna use his script,” people were like, “Okay, king, you’ve got this hobby,” but it wasn’t popularised until later.

Lauren: Even when there is really strong abstraction, humans have this unavoidable tendency to think about the relationship between sounds and other senses. In sound-based writing systems – Suzy Styles, who has been on the podcast before and works on perception across the senses, did an experiment alongside Nora Turoman where they looked at whether people can guess, for writing systems they’re not familiar with, which character was the /u/ sound and which character was the /i/ sound. They found that for a whole variety of scripts there is a much higher than chance – because there’s only two choices. If was completely arbitrary, it would be 50/50. But people do tend, across the evolution of sound-based writing systems, to have /u/ that has a more rounded, bigger sound has properties in the writing system that re-occur. People continue to unavoidably link the sounds of the language to the written properties of the script in a very low-level way. I’ll link to that study. It’s really great.

Gretchen: That’s interesting. It’s not gonna be 100%, but there’s this slightly better than chance relationship.

Lauren: Yeah.

Gretchen: Visual representation of physical information is also something that shows up in ways of writing signed languages.

Lauren: Yeah. Everything we’ve talked about so far, I think, we’ve talked about for spoken languages, but it is possible to write signed languages as well.

Gretchen: There are several different systems in place. Some of them are language-specific like, “Oh, this is the system for writing ASL in particular,” and some of them are kind of like your linguist, International Phonetic Alphabet trying to provide a language-agnostic way of writing signed languages for research purposes but, in a way, that’s sort of impractical, like the IPA for general use. There’s an interesting set of systems. There isn’t as much agreement among representers of signed languages in writing which amounts of information are crucial information that has to be written down and which are optional bits of information that the reader can fill in from their own knowledge of the language and the signer.

Lauren: I think it’s worth flagging that that’s not just a discussion that arises for signed languages. It’s just that those conversations got thrashed out for spoken languages four millennia ago, and we weren’t around when people were arguing about whether intonation had any role in the – or people probably were arguing because it was an emerging thing.

Gretchen: Well, when people were arguing about like, “Do we write vowels or not,” which was a big thing. Do we write vowels? Do we write intonation? And punctuation followed quite a bit after – you know, punctuation wasn’t as much of a thing for several of the early centuries and millennia of writing. They didn’t do punctuation. There’s some level of ongoingness that’s still there. If you think about the internet efforts to try to write tone of voice very precisely and communicate sarcasm and irony and rhetorical questions very precisely, there’s some level of ongoing debate that’s still happening in the spoken language context but not nearly as much as is still happening in the signed language context.

Lauren: Also, just because of the way that signed language communities tend to be embedded within larger spoken language communities, people who sign as a primary language tend to also be educated in the mainstream spoken language, and so literacy gets developed in, say, a language like English.

Gretchen: I think that’s the case for a lot of smaller spoken languages as well where sometimes there’s this imperative of, “Okay, we want to be able to write things to each other” or something, but if there hasn’t been a history of a lot of published literature in that language that you’re trying to read, then it becomes a question of, “Should we teach this in school,” because there isn’t literature there, even though there would be oral literature. It becomes a chicken and egg problem of which comes first, or which do you start teaching first, when you’re constantly comparing stuff against a few very large spoken languages that have this very long writing tradition. It shows up in languages with a newer writing tradition.

Lauren: Education systems have a massive influence there. My grandmother, actually her strongest written language is German. Even though she and her sister speak to each other in Polish, they would write to each other in German because that’s the language they had been educated to write in. Even with people who don’t speak minority languages, the influence of the education system there is so massive.

Gretchen: Reading and writing, they’re separate skills even though they’re often taught together. Sometimes you can read a language that you can’t write or something like that. But it’s a big question. With signed languages, because video technology is now available, if we’d had good audio recording technology 4,000 years ago, the pressure to develop writing systems for spoken languages might not have been as strong – probably wouldn’t have been as strong – even though there are other useful things that writing can do even in the audio-video era. It’s easier to be like, “Well, you can just make a video of the signer,” and then you’d know exactly what they were trying to say and exactly how they wanted to say it. You wouldn’t have this level of abstraction of are you gonna try to write it down in a way that imperfectly represents what a person is gonna do when they’re producing it. It is still interesting looking at some of the signed language writing systems. Some of them, like Stokoe notation and HamNoSys, which stands for “Hamburg Notation System,” they try to very physically represent the characteristics of the signer – where their hands are, where their face is, and things like that. There’s another one that I can’t find the name of that is based on the ASCII alphabet, so you can type it into search engine boxes, which has some advantages as well but represents things more abstractly. It’s got this link with Korean, which was representing this very physical aspect of what the mouth is doing. Several of the signed language writing systems like Stokoe and HamNoSys also have this very physical representation what the body’s doing when it’s being produced. But I think they’re more popular among researchers than they are among actual D/deaf users who tend to use video a lot.

Lauren: I encounter Stokoe and HamNoSys in the gesture and signed linguistics literature. I haven’t really seen them too much outside of that.

Gretchen: I think that it’s easy to conflate a language with its writing system because we’re so used to thinking of English as sort of inextricably linked to the Latin alphabet. But there isn’t a reason, in theory, why you couldn’t write English in the Greek alphabet or in the Arabic alphabet or in a very adapted version of Chinese characters where you’d have to do a lot of adaptation. The same thing is true when you write languages that don’t originally use the Latin alphabet and you have romanisations of them. Writing systems are just as much political and contextual. Some of them have this very tight structural relationship to the properties of the languages they represent and some of them have looser relationships because they’ve been adapted to it later.

Lauren: It’s this slightly looser relationship to language as it’s spoken or signed that means that linguists don’t always include writing systems in, say, an Introduction to Linguistics course. We don’t often talk about writing systems. But when we were putting together the Crash Course series, we ended up making writing the topic of our final episode for the series.

Gretchen: I think partly because people are really interested in it, so why not do something about writing, and also because I think that you can use writing systems as a window into some of the interesting structural features of different languages and how the writing systems represent that. As somebody who’s really interested in internet linguistics and the rise of informal writing and how we represent tone of voice and things like that in modern-day writing, and that’s still a moving target evolutionarily speaking, I think it’s interesting to give that linguistic lens on writing systems even though they are imperfect representations of the languages that they represent.

Lauren: “Writing Systems” is Video 16 of Crash Course linguistics, which is wrapping up this month. If you’ve been holding out to watch all 16 of those episodes, you’ll be able to do so very soon or perhaps even now thanks to the temporal vagueness of podcasts.

Gretchen: Crash Course is the YouTube series that we’ve been working on basically all of 2020. It’s especially popular with high school or undergraduate teaching. If you know people that age, or who teach people that age, that may be a useful thing to send to people. We hope that people find it useful as a resource for self-teaching or for instructing in various capacities.

[Music]

Lauren: For more Lingthusiasm and links to all the things mentioned in this episode, go to lingthusiasm.com. You can listen to us on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify, SoundCloud, YouTube, or wherever else you get your podcasts. You can follow @Lingthusiasm on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr. You can get IPA scarves, “Not judging your grammar, just analysing it” mugs, and other Lingthusiasm merch at lingthusiasm.com/merch. I tweet and blog as Superlinguo.

Gretchen: I can be found as @GretchenAMcC on Twitter, my blog is AllThingsLinguistic.com, and book about internet language is called Because Internet. Have you listened to all the Lingthusiasm episodes and you wish there were more? You can access to 48 bonus episodes to listen to right now at patreon.com/lingthusiasm or follow the links from our website. Patrons also get access to our Discord chat room to talk with other linguistics fans – like, do you remember learning how to read – and other rewards as well as helping keep the show ad-free. Recent bonus topics include an AMA with a lexicographer and our favourite stories and anecdotes that we just didn’t have time for in some of the earlier episodes. Can’t afford to pledge? That’s okay, too. We also really appreciate it if you could recommend Lingthusiasm to anyone who needs a little more linguistics in their life. And, hey, tell your other favourite podcasts that they could a linguistics episode, and get us on! It’d be fun.

Lauren: Lingthusiasm is created and produced by Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne. Our Senior Producer is Claire Gawne, our Editorial Producer is Sarah Dopierala, and our music is “Ancient City” by The Triangles.

Gretchen: Stay lingthusiastic!

[Music]

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Your Otaku

Leviathan x poly gn!MC x Mammon

Words - 2818

Content Warnings - panic attacks, lots of angst, but lots of cuddles too (mostly focused on the relationship between Levi & MC)

Prompt/Inspiration - loosely inspired by the “Ruri-chan is my Bae!” event (and I mean loose)

Summary -  You, Levi, and Mammon take a trip to the human realm together, and things take a sudden turn for the worse.

AO3

Arm in arm with Mammon, you walked through the convention center with Levi chattering excitedly at your side. You had managed to surprise him with a trip to the human realm to visit a popular anime convention, and he was just beside himself with excitement. The pure joy was practically radiating off him.

“That Q&A was amazing! Omg I never thought I’d get to see them so close. And they actually looked at me! Can you believe it? I know they were looking at me. There was a connection. I just felt it!”

His eyes were glued to the map in front of him, and only occasionally did you have to tug on his sleeve a bit to keep him from bumping into people. He started making plans about where you three should head to next, and come up with a strategy for maximizing the amount of limited edition merchandise he could acquire. He’d need your help obviously. And Mammon’s too. He only had so many arms after all, and as much as he wished he could stand in line for each item himself, he knew he had to be smart about this.

“So, we are gonna meet back up here in an hour, ok?” he said, “Set an alarm so you don’t get distracted and forget the time.”

“Yeah yeah yeah. Got it. One hour,” Mammon replied. He wouldn’t admit it, but the idea of scoring limited edition merchandise actually had him rather excited. Perhaps he could grab a couple extra copies so he could resell them later? These nerds sure seemed desperate for these things, so he figured they’d sell like hot cakes and he’d be swimming in money in no time.

The three of you separated and went your different ways to go wait in line. You glanced at the shopping list Levi had given you. It was decorated with little doodles of Azuki-tan, color coded, and organized by priority. You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of Levi working diligently to prepare this for you. You knew Mammon had one as well, but it definitely had way fewer hearts and stickers attached to it.

After an hour of line hopping, waiting, and more waiting, your DDD vibrated signaling it was time to meet up with your boys again and see how successful everyone had been. You glanced around and noticed Mammon right away. His face lit up when he saw you, and you returned his smile with one of your own. His arms were full of way more bags than you knew he needed.

“Did you get enough?” you teased, a small laugh escaping your lips.

“Oi! This is all Levi’s stuff remember? I might’ve grabbed a couple extras to make some quick Grimm, but most of this is his!” As much as he tried to deny it, you knew that less than half of those bags were for Levi, and you also knew that only a third were things he had intended to resell. You noticed some TSL merchandise peeking out from one bag that you were positive Mammon bought just for himself.  

“Ok, let’s go with that,” you replied, still laughing. Mammon blushed, realizing he had been caught. He should have known better. You always seemed to see right through him. He was thankful you had decided to keep it to yourself though and let him at least pretend you didn’t notice.

CRASH

You snapped your head up and looked in the direction of the loud noise - the same direction you were supposed to be heading. It was only a moment later that you could hear the sound of laughter break out, and you had a sinking feeling that Levi was involved somehow. You didn’t even bother explaining to Mammon what you were thinking, you didn’t need to, you just walked as quickly as you could through the crowded pathways just short of breaking into a full out sprint.

What you saw when you arrived at the meetup spot made your heart ache. Levi was sitting on the ground, on his knees, and scattered around him were what you could only assume were the bags of merchandise he had been carrying. His eyes were laser focused on the objects in front of him as he attempted to gather everything up and put it back into his bags.

Behind him, only a few yards away, stood a group of teenage boys that were cackling as they looked on. It didn’t take you long to piece together what must have happened - Levi had been in a hurry, and the boys knocked him down, causing him to crash into a display, and sending his things flying.

You could catch bits and pieces of their conversation over the laughter and buzz of the convention center. “Loser.” “Weeb.” “Freak.” It made your blood boil. You wanted nothing more than to march over there and deliver a swift kick in the groin to all of them, but you had something much more important to do.

Not wasting anytime, you made your way to Levi, gathering things up as you went. You crouched down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey babe,” you said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek lightly. You knew he didn’t like public displays of affection, but it was the only thing you could think to do to get him to shift his attention to you rather than his surroundings.

It seemed to work, for a moment at least. Levi turned to look at you, shocked to find you suddenly so close, but relieved all the same. You gave him a small smile, and rubbed his back. You could see he was struggling to keep his composure and not shift into his demon form in the middle of all these people. It was also obvious that he was only moments away from crying.

“C’mon, let’s go find somewhere to take a break,” you said, picking up the last of his bags yourself and rising to your feet. Levi gave a small nod and stood up as well, careful to keep his eyes trained on the ground in front of him. He dare not look around. He could feel the eyes of everyone boring into his back, and their whispers echoed in his ears. Freak. Loser. Weirdo. Creep.

He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself. He just wanted to take off running, but he knew it would only make things worse. He’d probably fall again like the loser that he was. He really should have stayed home. Why in hell did he let you convince him to go out today? If he was in his room right now like he should be, none of this would have happened. He was an otaku after all, and this was clearly divine punishment of some kind for him venturing out of his cave.

Mammon soon appeared beside you, “Hey! Ya can’t go takin’ off like that! What if somethin’ woulda happened to…” His voice trailed off as he became aware of his surroundings and noticed the group of teenagers standing a ways away. Their attention had now moved to you, and they were whispering rather loudly amongst themselves, and Mammon did not like the look in their eyes as they stared at you.

He looked back to you and Levi and realized just how shaken up his brother seemed. He could feel the waves of demonic energy rolling off him as he struggled to keep it together.

“Hey, I got this,” he said, moving to take the bags from your hands, “Y’all go on ahead. I’ll catch up in a bit.”

You gave Mammon a small nod, before linking arms with Levi and leading him away. He walked forward, robotically, no longer the bouncing, happy go lucky boyfriend you had seen just a mere hour ago. How quickly things had changed.

You felt so guilty for leaving him alone. You should have stayed with him. You knew he didn’t like crowds. Or people. If you had stopped to think for a moment you would have realized that it would have been better for you all to stick together. But you had let yourself get caught up in Levi’s excitement, and convinced yourself you had nothing to worry about.

Soon you approached a hall lined with closed doors. These seemed to be conference rooms, and a quick look inside told you they were unused.

“Here looks good. We will just rest for a bit inside, ok? Enjoy the peace and quiet,” you said as you opened the door and motioned for Levi to get inside. He listened obediently, not bothering to really pay attention to where he was going or where you had led him. His brain was on autopilot now, and he was just so incredibly tired.

Immediately upon entering the room, Levi’s self control finally started to crumble as his tail made an appearance, dragging along the floor behind him. He leaned his back against the nearest wall, and slid down to the floor, utterly exhausted. Before he could curl into a ball, you had locked the door and climbed into his lap, straddling his legs as you faced him. Once you wrapped your arms around his neck, it was like something just snapped inside him. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, clinging to your waist, sobbing uncontrollably.

As Levi cried, you gently stroked his hair and whispered in his ear, “Its ok now. I got you. You’re safe. It’s just us here.” You repeated this over and over again, like a mantra that you hoped would settle into his heart and disrupt what you were sure were very dark, chaotic thoughts.

“This is so not fair!” he wailed, “Why are there normies here?! They shouldn’t be here! This is supposed to MY place. MINE.”

He noticed the shirt he was wearing, and felt incredibly foolish for thinking it would be a good idea to wear it out of the house, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have worn this. What kind of loser likes a children’s show anyways?”

He grabbed at his Ruri-chan shirt, and you were sure he would have ripped it off himself if you didn’t stop him soon.

“Hey, let’s not remove our clothes while we are out in public, ok?” you said as you gently grabbed his hand to stop the assault on his shirt.

He froze for a moment as he processed your words. You were right after all. Once again he was about to do something reckless and impulsive. How could you even stand to be around someone like him? He was just a gross, yucky shut in. When were you going to realize that and leave him? Surely it was only a matter of time. You would grow tired of his breakdowns. Get bored of his rants. Annoyed with his negativity.

You brought his hand to your lips and gave it a quick kiss before releasing it and pulling his head to your chest. He seemed to be calming down a little now, if only slightly, but you could still feel the rapid beat of his heart and saw his tail twitch beside him. You resumed stroking his hair as you had been earlier, whispering your affirmations and reassurances in his ear.

He wrapped his arms around your waist once more, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, inhaling your scent. Your words were starting to reach him, and he concentrated on each and every syllable as he tried to ground himself. You were here with him, so he knew it would be ok. Everything always was when you were around.

He hadn’t the faintest idea why exactly you loved him or put up with his eccentricities, but you had never given him reason to doubt you. Not even for a moment. And even though he shared your affection with Mammon, you always made time for him and took an interest in the things that were important to him. You never forgot about him.

And you were always there to encourage him when he was feeling down about himself. That’s right. He was safe with you. The only person that truly understood him and accepted him for who he was, flaws and all. And you were here right now, holding him close, pressing soft kisses to his head. He could feel your warmth in his arms, and his muscles finally started to relax, aching because of how long they had been tensed.

His grip around your waist began to loosen slightly, though he was still holding your firmly, and his body had stopped shaking.

“Feeling a little better?” you smiled, as you tried to sneak a look at his face, but he kept his eyes hidden beneath his bangs.

“Yeah,” he said. Now that he was calmer he was beginning to become aware of the situation he found himself in and it was making him somewhat self conscious, though he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

“Alright,” you laughed, breathing a sigh of relief. You had your favorite otaku back. At some point his tail had disappeared too. As you continued to alternate between hugging him close, kissing the top of his head, and running your fingers through his hair, you felt the last of the tension leave his body.

“Ready to head home now? Or are you feeling up to checking out more of the convention?”, you asked, taking his face in your hands now and gently turning him to look at you.

He was not prepared for the love he saw in your eyes when he finally made eye contact with you. He was expecting something closer to pity, which was ridiculous really since you had never looked at him that way before, but this was a million times better. Without even thinking he kissed you gently on the lips. You could taste the salt from his tears in his kiss, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t often Levi initiated affection like this and you were determined to treasure every second of it.

He pulled away slightly, and rested his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed. You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs and smiled as you felt him lean into your touch.

“Thank you,” was all he could manage to say, and you knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t the first time you had witnessed him having a meltdown after all, and you had begun to figure out what worked best to soothe him.

You kissed his forehead, “Of course. You’d do the same for me wouldn’t you?”

He looked up at you again as you started to wipe what remained of his tears from his face. He was sure he looked like a complete mess, but somehow you were still smiling at him so sweetly. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and you gave him a soft laugh. That was your Leviathan alright.

“Obviously,” he said, looking away.

“I think there was one more Q&A session scheduled,” you offered, trying to see if he was interested. Finally, he smiled back at you and you could see that familiar sparkle in his eyes. He definitely did not want to miss out on this, not when he had the chance to shake hands with his favorite manga artist. He bet they even had signed copies of the latest release available. And this artist usually had stickers and keychains to pass out. He just had to get a matching set for you and him. And maybe Mammon too. Maybe.

You stood up, your legs stiff from the awkward position you had been sitting in. You hadn’t realized just how uncomfortably you had been positioned until now, and your knees felt like jelly. You started to wobble slightly, but Levi had already gotten up himself and grabbed your arm to steady you.

“C’mon. Let’s go find Mammon and get to the conference hall. If we hurry, I bet we can get some good seats too. Oh is this the one that always hands out keychains and stuff?”, you asked as you stretched your legs and started to test out your ability to walk again.

He smiled even more brightly, knowing that you had remembered, “Yeah! I really wanted a chance at grabbing a matching set. If that’s ok with you, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He couldn’t help but blush again. How did you always manage to say just what he wanted to hear? How did you always know what would make him happy? He thought about all the fun you had had together earlier that morning, and all he had to look forward to this evening.

Yeah, he was glad he left his room today.

[ghostsofmemories]

My Poetry Editing Process

hello folks! after watching @coffeeandcalligraphy‘s vlog where she talked about editing poetry, among a lot of other cool things, i realized editing poetry is pretty much the only thing i have a solid process for, so i thought i’d share mine! this is all work from a new poem titled what’s in a basement?, thanks so much to @keira-is-writing for sending the prompt on instagram!

and because of the way this website is formatted, including image descriptions is a bit impossible. so if you need IDs or just want to take a different look, i’m including a link to a copy of the document with all my comments on it! the post might have a little more detail since it’s easier for me to explain things here, but i did my best not to stray too far from my comments on the doc. 

alright, that’s enough rambling, let’s get on with it!

phase one: writing the poem

okay, so here’s the original poem with absolutely no edits.  all my works start out as prose poems because line breaks are too much to think about when i’m in the middle of a stream of consciousness. there are some exceptions but for the most part, it’s always prose poetry first.

phase two: line breaks

this is the part where i add line breaks, even if i intend for it to stay a prose poem or remove the breaks at the end. this helps visualize the poem in a different way and because the lines are shorter, it’s less convoluted and allows me to focus on individual words and the sound of the parts that the brain naturally reads together.

i usually make a couple changes here out of instinct, but for the sake of this, i've left wording, punctuation, and formatting completely alone

phase three: basic changes

anything that immediately strikes me as odd gets fixed here. i might also start getting an idea of what the poem is trying to be at this point, which is good, because i need to start thinking about it. i might consider some changes to the form and structure, too.

in the first stanza, i'm mostly noticing a lot of redundancy which tends to be my biggest flaw in my poetry, so that's what i have to look out for the most. that's the first thing i'll go through and change, plus i'll do some line edits.

most of what i'll change here is wording. i might get distracted by formatting or punctuation but i try not to, because i might lose an idea or miss an opportunity.

i labelled all the changes i decided to make if you’d like to see why i did certain things. if not, feel free to skip ahead!

1) i felt this part was redundant, so i ended up changing it 2) i wanted to push the skin simile that appears at the end of the poem 3) freeze-dried was more specific than dried up, and i also liked it better since this poem takes place in a basement (and those are cold sometimes? it makes sense to me okay?) 4) i switched rhythm and sound because you wouldn't sway to a sound, you'd sway to a rhythm. and you wouldn't be unable to stand a rhythm, you'd be overwhelmed by a sound 5) i deleted this word because it was unnecessary 6) i just liked this better than the original to be honest

I also have the bottom, small stanza highlighted because i think it needs to be reformatted or moved around the poem. putting all those similar lines next to each other can be good in a lot of cases, but for this poem in particular, i think it would be more impactful if they weren't all stuck together.

phase four: reformatting (pt 1)

(sorry if these screenshots are getting harder to read! i have to zoom further out because the poem is spread along a larger area). 

i moved around the lines of the last stanza to match my intention, which was to give the reader a metaphor to keep in mind before reading (1) , to tie the first and second stanza together (2), and to give the reader something to consider after (3). this isn’t even close to necessary for every poem, i just think it fits this one well!

phase five: reformatting/form (pt 2)

the final phase is another reformatting one, where i decide if i want to keep the line breaks or not. 

for the sake of this poem, i decided to do an in between. i thought my formatting decision for the smaller stanza made more sense if it was the only part with line breaks. i also allotted to remove punctuation from those parts because i felt that it read more along my intentions (which were, in a way, intended to act as titles, or something separate from the poem itself. i wanted to do as much as possible to clarify that they aren't part of the storyline of the poem itself, but more of a supplementary material).

that's the end of the editing "process", but in reality, i'll probably come back to this poem anywhere between a week and a month from now and make some wording changes. sometimes when i come back to a poem after a long time (especially a poem with a story), i end up getting ideas for another part of the poem and might end up adding another stanza. one time i actually added four to a poem i'd written months ago!

overall, i have no idea if this was helpful or not, but i hope it was! or, at the very least, that it shed some light on something that people don’t really talk about. 

a lot of people say that poetry isn’t meant to be edited and that it’s best in its most raw, unedited form, which might be true in some cases (i have several poems that didn’t need this intense of editing. a list of poems i won’t write was hardly edited at all before i posted it!), but i don’t think you should always consider a poem done the second you’ve finished writing it unless it’s something you’re genuinely proud of.

again, huge thanks to @keira-is-writing @coffeeandcalligraphy for making this possible! if you have any other topics you’d want me to cover in a long-form post like this, feel free to send me an ask!

poetry taglist (ask to be added/removed):

@coffeeandcalligraphy @oasis-of-you​ @alicewestwater​ @cherylinanika @keep-looking-here​ @chloeswords @bookphobe​ @chewingthescenery​ @citruson 

[beauty-and-passion]

Heya!

So I remember reading your post about Eurovision a while ago, and since I'm now hooked on a certain collection of songs, I was thinking...

Would you think 'Zitti E Buoni' by Måneskin could be a Remus song, and 'Voilà' by Barbara Pravi a Roman song? Or do you have some ideas on any other Eurovision songs that would fit the Sides?

Just wondering whether you'd like to share some thoughts on this, but no pressure of course! As always, I absolutely love your theories and posts, it always brightens up my day to read :D

This will be a very self indulgent post.

First of all: “no pressure”?! I am HYPED to share my thoughts on this! And this is why it took me so long to reply to this ask: I’ve spent the whole time thinking about which song could fit which Side, going through the last editions, reading the lyrics, searching among my favourites...

So yes, this post will be a bit long. But hey, there is also good music and maybe, by listening to it, you will find something you haven’t heard before! :D

(Of course, in order to make this post understandable, I will translate all lyrics, but the songs aren’t all in English. In any case, every song has a link, so you can hear it on Youtube.)

And yes, I know there are billions of other Eurovision songs, but for the sake of “not making this post endless” (as if it won’t be already), I will stop at Eurovision 2014. If you all have other songs to propose for a Side, please feel free to add them and explain why! :D

And now...

Which Eurovision songs would fit the Sides

_____________________________

EUROVISION 2021

Måneskin - Zitti e buoni

(Here the Eurovision performance because it’s just this good)

This song is PERFECT for Remus and I was a fool for not realizing it sooner. It's all about showing how different you are, embracing your uniqueness despite what others may think. Everything about this song screams “REMUS” so thank you, my dear, for opening my eyes and making me realize it.

They don't know what I'm talking about You are dirty, bruh, of mud Cig's yellow in between the fingers I'm walking with a cig Pardon me, but I really do believe That I can make this jump And even if the street is uphill I'm training for this now

The first line is already 200% Remus: they (aka the other Sides) don’t know what Remus is talking about. Remus is impossible to understand. Remus is weird, strange, dangerous - according to moral standards.

However, despite the other people’s thoughts, Remus still shows a high self-esteem - just like in his playlist. The others may not have faith in him, there could be obstacles on his way, but he still believes he will achieve his goals.

And good evening, ladies and gentlemen Bring out the actors You better hold on to your balls You better keep quiet and be good Here people are weird, like drug dealers Too many nights I've spent locked outside Now I'm kicking these doorways Staring up like climbers So sorry mum if I'm always out, but

“You better hold on to your balls” is a translation of the original italian line “Vi conviene toccarvi i coglioni”. This sentence is a more vulgar form of the English expression “knocking on wood”, something you preventively do to un-jinx stuff.

However, “knocking on wood” isn’t as strong as the italian expression, so I chose this translation that is more literal, but also more vulgar. It kept the original vibe more, it fits Remus more and it gives a stronger meaning to the whole thing. The singer isn’t just saying “beware of what you’re doing”, but he’s saying “get ready, shit if about to hit the fan”. It’s more powerful - and well, Remus would love this. It’s his time now, so the audience (the other Sides/Thomas) should "keep quiet and be good”.

I also really like the “Here people are weird, like drug dealers”, because it can refer to the dark sides in general. This is Remus’ show, so the Core Sides and Thomas should shut up. They are now in the Dark Sides’ territory, full of weird, sketchy people, morally gray villains. All things he loves, enjoys and that he definitely considers as compliments. 

“Too many nights I've spent locked outside / Now I'm kicking these doorways” is another great line, because “being locked outside” is the perfect metaphor for Remus’ situation. He IS locked outside, he has been kept far away from Thomas, stifled by him, unable to fully express himself. And so he releases his frustration by kicking the doors that are shutting him down. That’s just so Remus I. LOVE. IT.

I am out of my mind, but I'm not like the others And you are out of your mind, but you're not like the others We are out of our minds, but we're not like the others We are out of our minds, but we're not like the others

This chorus is PERFECT! First of all: “I am out of my mind” is basically just like this line from DWIT:

[Patton]: Imaginative sure is a- a kind word for him. [Duke]: I agree! How about... DEMENTED?

But also: Remus doesn’t give a damn. He’s not like the others and he’s SO DAMN PROUD of it. Just like he is in canon and in his playlist.

He goes even further, by saying that “you” are also out of your mind. And who this “you” might be, if not the big man himself?

[Duke]: If I am awful... then so is Thomas.

Just like in DWIT, Remus welcomes Thomas’ weirdness with open arms. If he and Thomas are both insane and different, why hiding it and not embracing this difference? They are unique.

I've written pages and pages I've seen salt, then tears These men in cars Don't climb the rapids I've written on a tombstone "In my house there's no God" But if you find time's meaning You'll climb back up from your oblivion And there's no wind stopping The natural power From the right point of view You feel the intoxication of the wind With wax wings on your back I'll go look for that high If you wanna stop me try again Try cutting my head off Because

Woah, this part has a lot. There is:

Remus' creativity as a flow ("I've written pages and pages")

Remus seeing how different he is compared to others ("These men in cars / Don't climb the rapids" while he was ready to “make this jump” despite the obstacles on his way)

Religion because of course - and especially Remus rejecting it ("I've written on a tombstone / "In my house there's no God".")

And, most importantly, there is a nice reference to Icarus' myth. According to myth, Icarus escaped from the Labyrinth of the Minotaur, by flying on wax wings. But he flew too close to the sun, his wings melted and he fell to his death.

This has multiple meanings. First of all, it shows how stubborn Remus is: he could use simpler, more stable ways to reach his goals. But he's Remus, he's creative and he's different, he would rather use wax wings (aka more complex, unordinary means) to reach his goal. Also, it's a proof of his resolution: just like Icarus, his wax wings could melt and he could fail. And yet, he's so set in his decision, he's ready to do anything to succeed.

This last point is particularly evident in the following lines: "If you wanna stop me try again / Try cutting my head off". It's impossible to stop him, just like it was impossible to send him away or stop him from talking in canon.

Everything in this song is just HIM.

Unfortunately people talk They talk, they don't know what they talk about Bring me where I float Cause I lack air here

Once again, the people are the Core Sides: they talk about how he's evil and dangerous and useless. But they don't know what they're talking about. They're (metaphorically) suffocating him with their prejudices, that's why he asks "bring me where I float": he wants to express himself freely, to escape these biases.

Also: water. And with the whole octopus as his animal, it’s just even more fitting.

Moral of the story: this song is perfect for him, Remus should know Italian just to sing it - and he would love the glam rock style of Maneskin as well.

_____________________________

Barbara Pravi - Voilà

I don’t know how you did it, dear, but these two songs are PERFECT. Zitti e buoni is perfectly Remus, Voilà is perfectly Roman. I feel blessed.

Listen to me, me, the half singer Talk about me, to your loved ones, to your friends Tell them about this little girl with black eyes and crazy dreams What I want is to write stories that you will hear about That's all

Roman, is that you? Because this is you. This is ALL you.

Roman is a "half singer": he cannot sing like he want, he cannot express himself in full. He has rules, laws, morals that forces him to quiet down and bent his creativity.

And, just like a tragic hero, Roman asks that his story will not be forgotten, that others will know about him, his unfortunate life, his "crazy dreams" and especially his passion: writing stories "that you will hear about".

This line in particular reminds me of this part from Recipe for Me:

And still, I continue to write because I have more dreams to fulfill Tales I hoped to tell when I was younger Ideas that I haven't made yet, but I will I'll find my way with my will

The concept is the same in Voilà. Roman is a "controlled" Creativity, surrounded by rules and morals that shut him, but he wants to be heard, he wants to tell stories.

And that’s just it. This is what creativity is all about: talking, puring out its ideas, as loud and freely as possible.

Voilà, voilà, voilà, here is who I am Here I am, even if I'm scared as I'm naked, yes Here I am in the noise and in silence

I love how this song is a way for Roman to express himself, to show himself despite everything. He's like this, he's a "half Creativity", he's scared, he's not perfect. But here he is, "in the noise and in silence". Because your creativity is always here with you, no matter where you are or what you are doing: it will never leave you and it will never stop asking to be heard.

Look at me, or at least what's left of it Look at me, before I hate myself What can I say that another hasn't already said? I don't have much, but I place here what I do have Voilà

Aaaah, yes, I like to wake up with the strong smell of Roman's angst in the morning.

Roman seeing himself as something broken? Perfect. We want more of the angsty boi. Even the fans of King Creativity may read this line as Roman seeing himself as “half of a whole”!

And, again I love how despite feeling broken and hating it, he’s still ready to give everything he has. This is the true essence of the concept of creativity.

Also, why not adding a little more angst?

I want to be loved, because I don't know myself how to like the shape of me

This is perfect, because it reconnects to the first episode, when Roman said his goal would be to love himself first. He never reached this goal after almost 30 episodes - and this line might offer an answer on why: because Roman doesn’t know how. He hates himself so much, he doesn’t know how to love himself.

And that’s probably why he needs another person to love: because it’s easier to love someone else, rather than himself.

Voilà, voilà, voilà, here is who I am Here I am, even if it's the end as I'm naked Here I am in the noise and in rage too Finally, look at me and my eyes and my hands All I have is here, it's my face, it's my scream Here I am, here I am, here I am

This last chorus is awesome: the quintessential of Roman’s desperation, of showing himself, of screaming hoping to be heard by anyone. Unlike Remus who is unstoppable and doesn't care about others, Roman cares. He needs a public, he needs to be heard, otherwise he would lose himself.

And I seriously love how these two songs both have the same idea (embrace yourself and your uniqueness), but talk aboout this theme in such different ways - and yet so fitting for the twins... they are just GREAT.

(On a side note: this song is so dramatically French Roman would love it and sing it with the same passion Barbara used and I would love to see that.)

_____________________________

EUROVISION 2019

Bilal Hassani - Roi

Come on... Roi. Roi. Considering that "roi" means "king" in French, who could possibly be the Side I would associate this song with? Maybe the Side who already has a King in his playlist?

Nope, this song is for Remus.

Why Remus? The reason is very simple and you can just notice by reading the first verses:

I am me And I know I will always be I am free Sure I am inventing my life Don't ask me who I am

I am The same since I was very little And in spite of looks, opinions I cry, I go out and I laugh

You put me in a box Want me to be like you I don't follow the codes People are disturbed a lot At the end of the day You canno change me, boo! So, let me fly

This song overflows with confidence, the lines talk about someone who is free to be whoever he wants, who has always been the same since he was a child, who is rejected by others and doesn't give a damn, who doesn't "follow the codes" and refuses to be changed by them.

This isn't Roman, but this is the quintessential of Remus. This song is everything about him, from his confidence to his desire to be free.

And the chorus is even clearer:

I'm not rich but i'm shining bright I can't see my kingdom now When I dream, I am a king And I know o-o-ow Even now o-o-ow You try to take me down You cannot break me nah nah

That's him, that's Remus.

On a side note, if Remus also has his "King song", that would strengthen the connection with Roman, since they both would have a song about "being/feeling like a king".

And this song is Roi, king in French. Since I think Remus would definitely know French, this makes Roi an even more fitting choice, doesn’t it?

Who are we ? When we hide, when we fight for free Only god can judge you and me We did not choose what we are

Not only there is a nice religious reference, but these lines are a also a reference to the LGBT community: they hide, they fight, they didn't choose to be like that (no matter what idiots might think) and only God can judge them, not other, very flawled (and, honestly, very pathetic too) humans.

So, if we consider it, there is also a hidden "fuck society" and a "I am gay and proud to be" and those are both very Remus things.

_____________________________

EUROVISION 2018

Saara Aalto - Monster

I would associate this song with Thomas. And, specifically, to Thomas at the end of the series. Why?

Here's why:

So tonight I'm making friends with all the creatures That are hiding there under my bed

I ain't gonna hold on to these monsters anymore Now I'm gonna let in all the light Tear down the walls At my worst, I found my army strong All the demons are gone You can try and scare me now But I ain't scared no more I ain't scared no more

At the end of the series, Thomas would have befriended all the Sides, especially the "monsters hiding under his bed", the dark bois.

The "final Thomas" will tear down every wall between him and his Sides and will stop hiding/rejecting them. This will make him stronger, because the Sides will be his helpers, parts of him, his friends. He won't be scared anymore by Remus, suspicious towards Janus, afraid of Virgil or terrified by Orange.

"All the demons are gone": the dark sides won't be villains anymore, but friends. And they would help him be stronger.

It's my life I'm ready to lead it I'm gonna roll the dice You better believe it

This part is great as well, because it proves another interesting detail: that Thomas is growing up. He's taking life into his own hands, he's leading it. No more "Oh no, I don't know what to choose between callback and wedding!". He's more confident, he's stronger, he's more mature.

_____________________________

Hovig - Gravity

Honestly, I think this song can be something all Sides might sing to Thomas. It's basically a testament of how much they care about him:

Let me be your heart and your company I'll let you be the one who can lean on me I'll catch you when you fall When you're falling free Let me be, be your gravity

But the imagery just screams "ROMAN" so much, I can't help but think that yes, this is a great Roman song and it's all from Roman to Thomas.

I mean...

I can be your hero I can be your fantasy Oh, I can be the cure Yeah, let me be Your remedy

He IS Thomas' hero, so how can I ignore this? And he's also the embodiment of Thomas' fantasies, he's the wings that make Thomas fly.

Let me be your wings When you're flying high I'm gonna raise you up 'til you touch the sky I'll catch you when you fall When you're falling free Let me be, be your gravity

It's just pure love for Thomas and it begs me to being a Roman song, so... here it is. A Roman song dedicated to Thomas.

_____________________________

Eleni Foureira - Fuego

Listen, not only Roman would rock this song, but also dance like a maniac while singing it just like Eleni and no, you can't change my mind.

Just look at how this woman sings and dnaces without never losing a beat until the end. And please consider that on the Eurovision stage there is no autotune: this was her voice and he delivered a great performance without cracks.

So yes, I want Roman singing this.

But the lines are great for him as well! I mean...

Take a dive Into my eyes Yeah the eyes of lioness Feel the power They ain’t lying.

and

Coz I’m way up and I ain’t comin’ down, keep taking me higher Ah yeah ah yeah ah yeah yeah ah yeah ah yeah Coz I’m burning up and I ain’t coolin’ down, yeah I got the the fire Ah yeah ah yeah ah yeah yeah ah yeah ah yeah

Fuego

Someone fiery and passionate, powerful eyes, pride... yep, this is definitely something Roman would sing. Especially because of the fire. Roman is a fiery guy, so fire is very him.

______________________ 

Yianna Terzi - Oniro Mou

I actually already talked about this song in an old post and I still haven't changed my mind: this song is all about Janus telling Thomas how much he cares about him.

If you look into the depth of me You revive my dream And if you look into my heart I will take you into my arms   How would you like me to say this I would die for you I would give my life for you End and beginning, you are everything

Not only the "take you into my arms" reminds me of Change (" I’ll be able to be honest, capable / Of holding you in my arms without letting you fall"), but the last three lines are so incredibly loving and honest I can't think of anyone else but Janus while reading them. Thomas is his end and beginning, Janus would literally die for Thomas and give his life for him.

So, well, it's just very fitting. And I love how dramatic this song is. It doesn't have the jazzy vibe Janus loves, but the drama is all here.

______________

Francesco Gabbani - Occidentali’s Karma

Do you remember how hard it was to analyze Algorhythm from Logan's playlist? Every line has a meaning and explaining every single one of them took me an eternity.

Well, this song is basically like Algorhythm, but with more philosophy and billions to references. You see the performance on the stage and ahahah, there's a funny dancing gorilla, what a cute song. Then you read the lyrics and BOOM.

I will not analyze this song here, because every line would require at least two paragraphs to explain it. And this post is already long enough as it is, but please, search the meaning of this song: there are references to Shakespeare, Heraclitus, buddhism, Andy Warhol, Desmond Morris and his book "The Naked Ape", Marx, Nietzsche and so on. Basically every line is a reference, a play on words or both at the same time.

What about the main theme? The main theme is the human and especially the contemporary human. In fact, "Occidentali" (Westerners) does not refer to the geographical place, aka Europeans/Americans, but to the western cultural model.

So the title “Occidentali’s Karma” (Westerners Karma) is an insight on contemporary society, on our values and on how, despite how many things changed, we are not so different from our ancestors after all.

This song might seem a perfect choice for Janus. There's a critique of society, there are philosophers and plays on words.

But I’m not too convinced, because even if Janus likes all those things, the number of references is just SO HUGE only a real nerd can find, recognize and appreciate them all.

So yes, this is a Logan song. A song he would probably listen and analyze, enjoying the whole process of knowing more things, finding out all the hidden meanings, the plays on words (we all know you like puns, ya big nerd) and the critical insight. After all, Algorhythm WAS a critique of society, so Logan should appreciate it.

_______________

EUROVISION 2014

Twin Twin - Moustache

Not only the band is called Twin Twin but, as if this wasn't screaming "Creativitwins" enough, the title of the song is "Moustache".

Come on, you know who is the Side perfect for this song.

Psyche! It's both Roman and Remus.

Something is missing, but what? I want this, I want that When I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming in dollars, every day I'm wearing a different suit.

This is very Roman: Roman wants everything (let's not forget Primadonna from his playlist), Roman’s dreams are big. And Roman is Creativity, so he "wears a different suit" every day - aka he directs his creative flow in different stories/songs.

I want this, I want that there's never enough for me it's like this, it's like that there's always something I don't have

This part strongly reminds me of Primadonna. Roman wants everything, every day. He's never satisfied.

And then, Remus busts in and...

I wanted a moustache, a moustache

So my headcanon is that this starts as a Roman's song, all about wanting everything because "there's always something I don't have", until Remus pops out during the chorus and says all he wants is his gorgeous moustache.

*chef’s kiss* Perfection.

But I know what you want, dear audience. You want some angst, don't you?

Fine, so what if the "I want a moustache" line is Roman's subtle way to say that he wants the same freedom his brother has? After all, Roman has "everything one could ever dream of", "I have friends too / even some who like me". All he needs is more creative freedom and  the moustache is a subtle way to say that.

_______________

Aarzemnieki - Cake to Bake

This is the ultimate song for all Patton's fans, because it combines Patton's love for baking to Patton being an absolute disaster at it.

Also, it's an incredibly cute song.

I melted the ice of the polar caps Found the raiders of the lost ark Solved a case for the genius from Baker Street Helped to clean the Central Park I created the plan for the Chinese wall Went to desert, made it rain Swam through a shark tank bloodily Found Atlantis, by the way But today

The first verse is already awesome: Patton did a lot of great stuff, even impossible stuff ("solved a case for the genius from Baker Street" is a very nice reference to the Losing My Motivation episode).

But today, he has to face the most difficult task of them all:

I’ve got a cake to bake, and got no clue at all I’ve got a cake to bake, and haven’t done that before Don’t be proud, mate, please, don’t bother Go, come on and ask your mother How to bake, how to bake, bake that cake

Not only this makes me smile every time, but I can perfectly imagine Patton in a kitchen, with all the ingredients in front of him, everything ready and set... and he’s just absolutely lost. Should he use a spoon to stir the flour? And how can he open the vanilla beans? He doesn’t even know how to turn the stove on.

And so, he decides it’s time to ask someone else to help him. Bonus points if the mother is Janus. Also because he is a mom AND a witch, so

Also, this line:

Mix some dough, add some love, let it bake, wait for it

It's SO Patton, because the main ingredient of his recipes IS love! And cumin. And sometimes spit, depending on what he's making: pasta for Roman or some toasts for his angsty teen son.

_____________________________

Carl Espen - Silent Storm

At first, I thought this was a Logan song: someone who feels empty and alone, who has a storm inside but it's a silent storm, because Logan would never express his feelings in any way.

But there are these lines:

And there’s a silent storm inside me Looking for a home I hope that someone’s gonna find me And say that I belong I’ll wait forever and a lifetime To find I’m not alone There’s a silent storm inside me And someday I’ll be calm Someday I’ll be calm

And maybe it's just me, but this reminds me so much of Virgil. He has a storm inside, his own symbol is a storm. He's searching for a home, after leaving the dark sides. And he hopes someone will say he belongs - Thomas will say he belongs, that Virgil is part of him and of the famILY.

And he's willing to wait all the time, just to get that tiny bit of recognition and acceptance. And, who knows, maybe when he'll get it, the storm inside him will calm down and he will finally be at peace.

____________________

Tinkara Kovač - Round and Round

I don't know if I'm insane (or just extremely self indulgent), but this song is basically Janus during the wedding/callback saga.

Uncertain between worlds Circle after circle, we're trapped in time When you're already familiar with every storm You're playful, and yet you're alone

The first verse sets the time and situation. Thomas is living an uncertain life (just like every actor), trapped in the same cycle, with nothing new coming: same job, same opportunities, no big chances, nothing stable. He's "familiar with every storm", aka Virgil has been accepted. Thomas is happy, but he's alone. No one is actually on his side, not even the Sides themselves. He's not taking care of himself enough, he's too ready to drop everything for his friends, he's spreading himself too thin.

And now I'm gonna show you how to breathe I'm gonna show you how to live I'm gonna hold your heart in hand I'm gonna make you understand

This can be a declaration from Janus: he's tired of working in the shadows, he wants to step up and help Thomas in person. And these lines make me think of him, because of how "firm" (and kinda villain-y) they sound.

He wants to show Thomas how to live, aka what are the best decisions to make). He's going to "hold your heart in hand", aka to have Thomas wrapped around his fingers, to take control and steer him with a strong, confident grip, away from the decisions he considers bad, into making him a lot stronger than before.

And, finally, he wants to make him understand. So if the lines before sounded more like a villain’s plan, this last line adds something more. Janus wants to explain to Thomas why he's doing this, why his decisions are better, why Thomas should trust him.

If we think about it, this is everything Janus tried to do since CLBG: he wrapped Thomas (and the other Sides) around his fingers and made them play the courtroom scenario he built, he tried to steer Thomas away from the selfless decision of going to the wedding. And he tried to make him understand why, with the pinata metaphor.

You don't know you don't know Is it love is it hate What are we changing (What are we doing) You don't know you don't but Can you feel it inside Feel the roses Feel the pride (Can you believe it)

Thomas doesn't know a lot of things. Does he really know what love is? Or hate? Or what he's actually doing, by listening to his Morality? What is Janus doing?

[Deceit]: What am I doing here right now, Thomas? Am I the snake come to trick you into sinning, or have you had your mind made up since the moment you received the news about the callback? (SvS)

Thomas doesn't know a lot of things. But deep down, he knows what he wants to do. He should "feel the roses / feel the pride", both things associated with Roman. He is the one Thomas should listen to. And Janus is hinting it.

Is a moment just a circle Just a song you play on repeat? If we can't change how we're living Isn't life just a lie that we feed

Janus is expressing his frustration here: is Thomas' life doomed to always be the same, a cycle, a "song you play on repeat"? Can't he really change his life because of his selflessness? Will he really miss all the opportunities life offers him, in order to always be a good person?

What's the point of living, then? This wouldn't be life, but "a lie that we feed": instead of living his own life, Thomas would submit it to what others want/need, in order to always be present for them.

This is basically a huge warning from Janus: don't fall into this cycle, break free, I can make you free, listen to me and I will make you understand what is wrong about it.

[lightneverfades]

Tehee! The Frostiron Holiday Wishes challenge ❆ is officially closed for submissions, and OPEN FOR CLAIMS! 🎅🎄 (Wishlist)

Sorry for the delay in posting the wishlist! And thank you so much to everyone who’s submitted prompts! :D ♥ ♥ ♥ 

For those not aware of the challenge, you can see what it it’s all about in the original post here! :)

*** This post was last updated: 12/8/2020 ***

Rules for Claiming a ‘Wish’

❆ Artists can claim as many ‘wishes’ (idea/prompt) as they want and fill them (as all prompts are not designated to a specific artist)!

After you’ve picked up a ‘Wish’ to Fill 

❆ Please be sure to contact me (lightneverfades) via message which one you chose! ❆ When you finish creating the artwork for the wish (ideally before Dec 24), please be sure to send me the art/fic/etc you’ve made! (If you need help sending it to me, let me know and I’ll help!)  ❆ I know you might be excited, but the surprise is what makes this fun, so please keep your artwork a secret until Dec 24 & 25!

❆ On Dec 24 & 25 (Christmas Eve and Christmas Day!) 🎅🎄, I will post a MASTER POST including links/photos/etc of all the artwork/completed fills received for the prompts below! :)

Types of Fills ✨

❆ Any type of fan works is allowed - That means fan fics, fan art (drawings, digital graphics), fan videos and fan mixes!

Note: *= Anything with this means I couldn’t directly tag the user’s name. (Please contact me and I will edit it so that it works!)

FAQ ✨

Q: Is there a word limit?  A: Nope, there is no word limit! ;) Although it will be ideal if the fic in general is a complete work! 

Without further ado, here are the wishes received for the challenge! ♥

Requester: @kimmycup​  Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Invasion fic where Tony figures out Loki was mind controlled before Loki does: "But I WAS in control. Thanos didn't control me like I did Clint." "Yeah sure. And if you wanted to take over the world, what would you do?" Loki spluttered, fully aware that plan was dumb. Still, he would KNOW if he were controlled... Right? "But I wasn't mind controlled! It was me!"

Requester: @kimmycup​ Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki in Tony's MIT sweatshirt.

Requester: @worstloki​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: nothing nsfw please >:) Wish (Prompt/Idea): Tony and Loki both having panic attacks at the same time. just make it wild. whatever the reasons are, maybe it's the same reason? maybe they have shared triggers? maybe it's separate reasons? maybe the other avengers are around and don't realize the incoming attacks and keep bringing up bad memories? maybe one of them notices the other is freaking out and defends them? maybe drags them away only to also start having a panic attack? whatever. they're both freaking out and just kinda do that. they then bond over it. (this can be crack or angsty I don't mind)

Requester: Nivael * Rating: E (Explicit) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): I’d always had that idea in my head, that Loki somehow took notice of Tony during the events of Thor 1, when he was on earth/watched Thor on earth.He fell in love with the mortal that was at the same time so different yet similar to him. So when he fell from the Rainbow bridge and into Thanos’ hands he planned to sabotage earths invasion from the very start to save Tony. Fast forward to at least after the end of Thor 2, (when Loki takes Odin’s place in the MCU) Loki escapes to earth after Thor thinks he’s been killed by the dark elves. He knows Thanos won’t rest until the infinity stones are his and the earth is still in danger. So he watches Tony to keep him save. With all the self hatred and lack of self esteem he harbors, he does not plan to actually act on his feelings, because he does not think he could be worthy of Tony. Plus, he invaded earth, caused lots of casualties, he’s an ugly Frost giant and the god of lies...so... yeah. He cannot think of one reason why Tony could be interested in him.But his feelings draw him to Stark and one day while following him, Loki gets careless and Tony discovers him. (Maybe Loki even discreetly intervenes a few times when Tony is in danger and Tony doesn’t notice until one day he does...?). So Stark confronts him and bit by bit (because Loki is not very cooperative and the least he wants is for Tony to discover his "ugly" emotional secret) he uncovers the truth about Thanos, the invasion and how Loki feels for him. I can imagine Loki to react ashamed, dismissive and maybe aggressive when Tony finally finds out. Tony, not being stupid, already suspected something to be fishy about the invasion. With how much Thor told him about Lokis wit and cleverness, he finds it hard to believe that Loki would make so many obvious mistakes. But now that he knows, all makes sense.Loki still watches over Tony, but keeps his distance. Until one day he saves Tonys life during a (random) attack and gets badly injured. With Lokis life on the line Stark realizes he has feelings for Loki and he takes him in to take care of his wounds. Healing takes some time so the two have plenty of time to get to know each other and deepen their feelings. Smut may follow :D (Oh... I am SO SORRY this became so much. God, it is too much, isn’t it? And sorry for my english o.o)

Requester: Nivael * Rating: E (Explicit) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki and Tony are in an established relationship. Things go great, but Loki is still unaccepting of his Jotun heritage and body. While Tony is completely fascinated by it, partly because Loki tries to hide it so hard. So he gets a fancy magical gadget from Strange (amulet, bracelet,...?) to be able to avoid frostbite so he can touch Loki even when he's in his Jotun form. Then there will be smut! :D

Requester: @brianadoesart​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): MERMAIDS. I like mermaids. Either a fic or art, but I just want more content of mer-Loki or mer-Tony.   I always enjoy versions where Loki is an underwater prince who falls in love with a stupid human inventor by the name of Tony. He's never been 100% happy in the palace with Thor and the others, so he often would go to the shore to watch the humans. He sees Tony working on the beach one day and becomes interested in him from there on. Basically a little mermaid type thing... I am easy to please. I just like mermaids.

Requester: @brianadoesart​ Rating: G (General audience) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): A.... Among Us au.......  Impostor Loki protecting his crewmate friend Tony from the other impostors.... I..... Tony and Loki as Among Us beans...

Requester: @arandomsewer​   Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: Mentions of trauma and past abuse and racism, maybe sex? Just some drama and comfort Wish (Prompt/Idea): I just want him to live on and being supported by his Friends and his brother recognizing him, that's basically the prompt. Tho here's the details of the Idea I had: Loki is living at the tower with the others (of course) too proud to say out loud how much he likes life on earth... The usual.Something happens and suddenly the magic that made him look Asgardian is just not working anymore. Understandably, he freaks out. Im talking hides in his room, crying, anger, hate, on himself and others... The whole lot, he just throws a major fit.The others know him and kind of understand and are patient... But it’s not getting fixed. Days pass, and he's stuck like this. After a while Tony snaps him out of It, and he slowly calms down and starts learning to accept this side of himself. It’s specially strange to him how he can just walk in a room and no one treats him different. How the others are even fascinated by this form. I expect Thor being shocked and curious and snapped at and reminded how he (and his people on general) have been unfair to Loki... And of course, there's the romance with Tony, Who loves him in all his forms (and they fit together 'cause he's kinky and Loki a shapeshifter)Also imagine Loki being terrified of touching Tony and then finding out he's cold to the touch but not actually dangerous (my headcanon: he's the son of Hella. Half giant and half Asgardian, and the actual heir... But that's for another fic)

Requester: @brianadoesart​​ Rating: G (General audience)   Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Tony has been living alone for so long that Pepper and Rhodey decide to find him a roommate. They've tried living with him themselves, but they're both so busy it didn't really help Tony's loneliness. So they put out an ad for someone who specifically works from home. Choosing to keep it secret WHO they need a roommate for, they get some applicants, but not the crazy amount they normally would. Rhodey and Pepper go through all the applicants, even meet with them, and they choose a nice, smart author named Loki. He's the perfect candidate- he's even excited by the idea that his new roommate has no idea he's even GETTING a roommate. He finds it funny. They introduce Loki and Tony and sit back and watch everything unfold. Obviously it ends up with Tony and Loki falling for each other in the end, but seeing the shenanigans of them trying to cohabitate would be hilarious. Just watching them learn each other and begin to care about each other. I would like to see it.

Requester: @brianadoesart​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Cupcake shop au!!!  One of our boys owns a cupcake shop and the other one is a FREQUENT visitor to said coffee shop. Lots of people think its because they have a sweet tooth, but they're just hopelessly in love with whichever one owns the shop.

Requester: @loufeysson​​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Hi! my prompt is teenage Tony and android Loki in a futuristic universe (in the style of Black Mirror, maybe?) 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 Thank you!

Requester: @blancoluna​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: CRACK, haha Wish (Prompt/Idea): Basically Friga wonders where she went wrong, asks the Oracle and goes on a guilt trip realizing she messed up to Valhalla and back. The idea is, being a queen-godess of family, she should be able to do something about it, maybe traveling in time or something... And Loki's gonna need powerful allies and Friends, like the Avengers, for example Now the same, but with detail. This is the way I imagined It. Perhaps it’s too much drama? I just don't know how to tackle It or how to go from here:After everything that happened, Frigga wonders where she went wrong, not just with Loki, but with Thor who didn't appreciate his brother, Odín, who treated him unfairly and even the servants, Who didn't respect him.She wonders if she could have done anything, and the guilt wont let her sleep until she goes to the well of wisdom, the Oracle, to seek answers.She is warned the truth may be even more painful. She may not like the answer... But she goes in.It is way worse than she thought: in one second she is reminded of all the times she should have acted, and chose not to, and she sees how It affected her family.She could and should have done something, and she had plenty of time, but at every chance she chose not to. And its perhaps worse than what Odin did because she knew It was wrong but chose to do nothing about It.But even more: It is confirmed to her that not only Odín never gave Loki a chance: he didn't find him. He stole him from the temple where he was guarded. He is not just the son of Louffey, but also of Hella, and thus, the actual heir to the throne of Asgard.She was supposed to be the godess of family, and here she was, consumed by guilt and shame, by having followed blindly a King Who abused her children and betrayed his own heir, aside from many other crimes.But Frigga can't just spend the test of eternity crying. She must do something. She was raised by witches!!Will she manage to get her hands on the time Stone? Or Will she just travel to another dimension to warn a younger version of herself? Will this be the beginning of a new multiverse? The possibilities are endless, when the godess of family must avenge her child...But first: for him to have a better Life he would need support, allies... Friends. (Enter the Avengers) 

Add-on: Frigga having this vision was just meant to be a one shot that would connect many different alternative stories, all with the 'what if Frigga did something for Loki' as a common base. All of them would be Frostiron 'cause I honestly believe they are just meant for one another! It is just so open to so many possibilities... That I never got to writing any of them. 

One of the first ideas I had following this concept was of Frigga introducing Tony and Loki early on somehow: as kids they would be like 'imaginary friends' then Tony manages to contact him and they are webcam buds... As young adults, they would help each other go a different path than they did in other lives.... and when Loki needed help, he had allies to back him. (The Avengers, whom Tony may have introduced to him earlier)

Requester: @snarkyship​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Human/no powers AU. Sort-of-enemies to friends to lovers.Tony rents this house/bungalow by the sea for the summer, with a kind of private beach where there is also a cute gazebo. Only that the gazebo is exactly halfway with the other property (by some mistake?). And the tenant of the neighbour bungalow is Loki, who's not so keen on sharing. So Loki&Tony will start a "war" to gain possession of the gazebo, doing their worst using the excuse of "this is my half, I can use it as I want". ((Optional: there is a table right in the middle, so at the beginning they sit at their own side glaring at each other, before starting deploying more convoluted tactics)).Mischief after mischief, they will start to know each other and of course everything will end with one of them inviting the other to their half for a romantic dinner and they'll end up sharing more than the gazebo <3((I hope it's enough clear and but also not too detailed??))

Requester: @snarkyship​​ Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Finally Tony has managed to locate Loki's whereabouts. And it turns out the godling lives in a pretty loft in Manhattan, with all the comforts and the most advanced midgardian technology ((lighting, temperature and everything controlled by a tablet - the Stark latest model!- , appliances linked to the wifi, and has that roomba a knife??)).Tony decides to have a little fun: who said Loki is the only one who can do a little mischief?? So he takes control over Loki's apartment hacking its system; he starts with some flickering lights, the roomba changing suddenly trajectory to stab him, then blasting music in the middle of the night and so on.And Loki would be so frustrated: at the beginning he thinks about some failure in the inferior midgardian technology, then he'll think to be under attack, but he can't feel any magic signature!! Maybe he'll freak out a little, because there is some kind of unknown entity??? ((And while he may be using all the technology without problems, it doesn't mean he fully understands its working)).Tony will have fun, but he also will discover some cute aspects of Loki's personality, like he sings to his plants and he likes to wear fuzzy socks ((ok it sounds voyeuristic, but Tony would respect part Loki's privacy, maybe he'll spy on him only when in the living room or kitchen)).((And maybe he would help Loki as well? Like, the godling had a nightmare after falling asleep on the couch, and Tony would gently woke him up with music))Loki will eventually understand that Stark, the most clever midgardian, was behind all of this, and well, he's the God of Mischief, he can appreciate a well planned trick. Time to return the favor ;)

Requester: @martiszcz​ Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Someone is trying to break them up by making Loki jealous, mentioning Tony's playboy years, talking about the time they slept with Tony, talking about how much time he spends with some friend (Pepper, Rhodey, I don't care who) but Loki doesn't react - they trust each other.

Requester: @shinindragon​  Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): The Avengers + Loki fight a villain. Loki uses a lot of his magic, eventually almost draining his energy completely when he protects Tony from getting hurt. When the battle is over, they return to the tower, all of them exhausted. Tony notices Loki doesn't look well, he asks if he's okay. Loki barely gets a word out before he collapses into Tony's arms, unconscious. Thor carries Loki to Tony's and his bedroom, explaining to Tony that he'll be alright, it's just exhaustion from an excessive use of magic. Tony stays with Loki, taking care of him. Fluff and with a sprinkle of angst. 

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) or M (Mature) Trigger warning: N/A Wish (Prompt/Idea): Detroit: Become Human AU - Young Tony Stark is neglected by his father, who is the CEO of CyberLife corporation. He craves for his attention and approval but doesn’t get it, causing him to become so bitter one day that he sneaks into one of the labs to sabotage whatever work he is doing. Tony comes across an abandoned RK800 model (also known as ‘Loki’), about to be taken apart for parts. He salvages the model before it gets destroyed, feeling sorry for this inanimate object that’s being thrown away so carelessly. He rebuilds Loki again in secret, and Loki becomes his friend through lonely times (Tony is there to help Loki understand humans, life, language, etc and Loki just keeps Tony company). Tragedy strikes the Stark family though, when his parents die in a car accident. Loki is there to help him and as Tony starts to grow up and become a man (he continues to fix Loki when he breaks down or updates him), Loki’s system starts to show signs similar to that of human emotions, although Tony is completely unaware of this. At a certain point though, Tony - in one of his bad moods - decides that he doesn’t need Loki anymore and shuts him down and puts him away in storage, resolving to move on with life without these ‘distractions’ to keep him company (image a scene where Tony is angry and throws that frustration and loneliness onto Loki, who tries to calm him down and sooth away his anxiety (’I understand you’) but Tony’s all (‘But you’re just a machine!’) and although Tony isn’t aware, Loki feels a spark of hurt, though even he can’t explain what this emotion means.)  Years pass and eventually Tony forgets about Loki. He earns a name for himself, having taken over his father’s company (which still creates androids and in addition, creates weaponry of mass destruction as well). Obadiah is watching over Tony’s company (he is the one who ‘suggested’ he focus on building a name for himself and to shut out any ‘distractions’ that get in the way: namely Loki. Over the years, he saw how Tony interacted with the android and he had the uneasy sense that the android had matured into something more than its primary use. He considers Loki a threat). The events of Iron Man happen, with Tony being captured by the Ten Rings and then escaping. During his days confined at home to recover, he stumbles upon Loki and decides to reboot him again (partly out of guilt and partly because he’s lonely again). He finds comfort with Loki once more.  Tony decides to crash the charity party by making an appearance with Loki as his ‘bodyguard’. Obadiah sees this and is not happy about this strange attachment Tony has over this android.  Loki helps Tony build his first prototypes of the Iron Man suit, and they get to reacquaint themselves. One day, Loki sees on the news that there are a number of deviant android cases and is confused by what he sees, but it soon dawns on him that he might be feeling emotions for Tony, finally understanding the true meaning, especially when Tony is injured (while Loki is out on an errand) and Obadiah ambushes Tony by stealing the mini arc reactor in his chest.  Shortly afterwards, to spite Tony, Obadiah hacks into Loki’s system and tries to eradicate the ‘deviancy’ he sensed in Loki years ago and turn the android against Tony (he tries to make Loki kill him). It doesn’t work - on the contrary, it finally frees Loki. Together, Tony and Loki go against Obadiah, who is intent on destroying them and taking over CyberLife corp.

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences)  Trigger warning: Sickly, happy song cliches! xD Hah! Wish (Prompt/Idea): In which Tony or Loki (you can choose) is cursed by Amora to relive a week in which their lives suddenly become a musical and everyone around them spontaneously bursts into dance and song. (I have this image of Loki bursting into song about something ridiculous and Tony’s like, “What the HELL, what’s going on!”). This could either be enemies-to-lovers or it could start from them already being in a relationship. Bonus points if the Avengers team all burst into song together and there’s actually lyrics!! (Then I can actually make up a tune/sing it during the last month of 2020 so this year ends with rainbows and fluff and HAPPY FROSTIRON THOUGHTS! XD)

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: T (Teen and up audiences) or M (Mature) Trigger warning: FLUFF OVERLOAD! <3 Mpreg (might not be everyone’s cup of tea) Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki has a kid with Tony (eeehehe, go all in with the loving and caring Tony fussing over his pregnant enemy-turned-boyfriend-turned-husband), calls her Morgan. Tony is obsessed with buying baby clothes for their daughter to the point where he has a closet dedicated to socks (lol he can’t get enough of small baby clothes and the potential to make his daughter look like a rainbow?!). Lol, I don’t even know! Just domestic bliss I guess! <3 Bonus points if Tony buys Christmas sweaters for his fam, including the Avengers, who dote on baby Morgan like their own (Thor with his anime eyes). Or even better, if baby Morgan grows up and plays little tricks on Uncle Thor and Loki and Tony chuckle in the background as Thor lets his niece do whatever she wants, cause he loves him too much to care, lol~

Requester: @lightneverfades​ (Lol yup, shamelessly requesting as well haha!) Rating: M (Mature) Trigger warning: CRACK, haha Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki is a yoga instructor and one day Tony goes to one of his classes and finds out the best positions to ‘relax’ - body, mind and soul >:D. (I love puns, so go crazy hahaha!)