#BRO YOURE SUCH A GOOD STORYTELLER AND I FUCKING HATE IT

[tomfrogisblue]

So

Today, I finished the third episode of O Segredo na Floresta

Then, I saw Cellbit was live on the QSMP and tuned in to the lore he just did

So

MUM!!! A BRAZILIAN MAN IS MAKING ME DEPRESSED IN A LANGUAGE I ONLY JUST STARTED TO UNDERSTAND!!!

[hazbin-critique-place]

THINGS I HATE ABOUT THE THE APOLOGY TOUR (part 1)

Blitzo just randomly walks in. AND DON'T GET ME WRONG, I LOVE HIM, HE'S LITERALLY THE CLOSES THING TO MY COPING MECHANISMS IRL AND PEOPLE HAVE DESCRIBED ME THE SAME WAY AS HIM, I'M NOT SHITTING ON HIM, but rather the storytelling... Like... What??? Like, make it make sense.

So he just randomly comes and goes, as he wishes??? And we saw he didn't have any problems with stealing (maybe just felt bad a bit but come on he kills ppl for living and we see how sadistic he can be he's NOT gonna have problem with that) why doesn't just steal from Stolas' house and sell that shit????? Like - he could fucking quit his job or find a better one!!!

And then he wouldn't need the grimoire, and... Boom.

Then, why is he even there??? Like - did he use his brains at all?? Like - bruv, you got rhe crystal already, so if you wanna act like you don't give a shit... Just don't come pleading to him (bird dick guy) and basically annoy the shit out of him for next 10 minutes even if you're right. Trust me, that's not how you feign nonshalance. I would know.

Stolas being sassy at him, then??? Like - if you have the guts to be sassy, why don't even have the whole conversation wuth him and sit and talk the relationship out with each other already??? Are you THAT stubborn?! That's not normal.

Also, if you really don't want him there, Stolas, just teleport him out. Or yourself. Just - fucking make it make sense. You HAVE the powers, and I KNOW that in Good Omens Crowley and Az would in this situation probably forget that, Neil even speaks about it in some interview or idk, but... Come on. HE'S SMART. STOLAS LITERALLY READS. (I know this is stereotyping but there IS a reason for the stereotype - literally a majority of people who'd read in their free time (and c'mon, even I, an ao3 monster, wouldn't read after such a fight like Sto and Blitz had - my anxiety would be making scenarios and pacing through the garden already -) ARE smart.) Don't make him look all educated and priviledged and informated and shit just to act like this mean asshole, like - does he ENJOY annoying Blitzo back??? (Also, pls shut, you twitter users who "dOn'T dEaDnAmE hiM!!!1!" all over reasonable posts when you lack better arguments. It literally IS his legal name, and if he had such a problem with it, he could change it easily... Take Anthony to Angel Dust, after all. Or just nicknames could work.) Bcs I at this point honestly think he does.

Also, you dumb, dumb, hypocritical bird, why would you show him a fucking invite when you could just repeatedly tell him to at least 'go away' or just act objectively reasonable????

And if you're trying to be so polite bro, just magic him a cup of tea, or something, to match the yours. It would nicely fit to the scene and aesthetic, also it would make you seem more nice and classy... At least I could like you.

Also, are you ignoring Blitzo or fuck¥ng talking to him???

Because at the same time, you want to have an alone time, but you still throw baits to elarge the conversation at him.

He's all sassy and makes comments and aaahhh - so you're like satisfied with the situation now or what???

I mean, poor Blitzo -

Like-

If you hate him, just tell it to him already. Poor boy.

Oh god, we aren't even 3 minutes in and I have already writen a goddamn novel.

Also, I know it's supposed to be funny, but the whole party idea is honestly just dumb. Like... I would be so bored and not even excited to even go to a place designated to constantly talk about a person I hate? Lol

Like I love a good gossip but not as a theme for a goddamn concert-having function!

Also, you know that happy people live longer, right? This is kinda unhealthy - I mean, that's just basic, no? Like don't support and feed your hatred towards an individual just to feel better about yourself, or at least don't force it.

Bcs I get the guy who broke down crying at that one shot after he tried to hit the blitzi plush so much. And the other dude was hyping him up. I'd be so much confused, like him. Like - he's going through some hard stiff, like some facking serious character development right now, just let him be!

About Martha... Ehhh, I love her new design and character, but it just seems boring and soul sucking now that every character, after they're denonised, they just happened to be the same, most generic, and shitty snappy, constantly angry and always frustrated (and frustrating) characters ever. Like - does hell really that much brainwash people??? I mean, it would be interesting, but honestly I don't think that Vivzie did this intentionally at all.

Also, why would you even sleep with your nemesys... 😭 I'm a number one enemies to lovers fan and I don't ship it if they don't bite rach other but this, especially so unexplored and just randomly thrown in, does NOT make and sense.

It was funny though lol. I want more of these just to see how much Viv's one-dimensional view of her own fucking characters transforming to hell changes.

Part 2 soon.

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Fall: I’ve been wondering, how did you get into writing? You seem like you’ve got such a strong grasp on it. It’s kind of intimidating, honestly. You are way too good with your words, especially compared to us, mere mortals.

Shen Yuan smirked as he typed out his reply, leaning back against his hospital bed.

Shizun: You flatterer! But honestly, I’ve spent way too much time hate-reading terrible webnovels and thought, ‘Well, I can’t do worse than this’. Writing fanfiction was kind of a last-ditch effort to keep my sanity after reading PIDW for so long. And…

He started to hit backspace but hit enter instead. Shit.

It took a minute for Fall to answer. Against his hopes, not without asking about that ‘and’.

Fall: “And…”?

Fall: But LOL. I should have known that nothing can beat spite. Not sure if you know - probably you do, since you love PIDW’s world so much -, but there's a commenter, Peerless_Cucumber, who is like that. The angrier he gets, the more eloquent he writes. Barring all the swearing, LOL.

Fall: Shit! Wait. No. Now that I think about it, please, don't check him out! If you two would collaborate, you could take over the world.

Shen Yuan couldn't decide whether to cry or laugh. It seemed, it was a good decision not using his Peerless_Cucumber acc, but it was quite strange to read about himself. Maybe he should tell Fall it was him.

Hahaha. No. Fuck, no.

Shizun: Hahaha, I know about him! Would it be strange if I'd say that I kinda use his long-ass comments/essays as bases for improvement? He is always so detailed with all the problems and issues, it is much better to use those instead of the fan Wiki.

Shizun: So… about the “and”.

Shizun: I used to be quite sickly when I was young. I spent a lot of time in the hospital, and I found out that reading and writing was a wonderful way to forget about the real world. Funnily enough, I'm actually at the hospital rn, turning towards writing once more.

It took a little longer for Fall to answer. Biting into his mouth, Shen Yuan hoped that it wasn't too personal too soon. Shen Yuan glanced at the IV drip beside him, the sterile smell of the hospital room filling his senses. It wasn't that bad.

It wasn't good either.

He wanted to go home. Home had his own bed. Home had his PIDW merch and his favorite pillow his er-ge forbid to bring him to the hospital.

Fall: Oh, shit. That sucks.

Fall: I get that. Reading (and maybe writing, but you may never know) is a safe space for me too. It helps to forget about all the problems in the world, to imagine you are somewhere else, in a better place. Also, I hope you are doing okay! I'm also in a similar situation, so high five bro! (Kinda managed to do something very, very stupid. Did you know that ramen is liquid and liquid does not go well with electricity?)

Fall: On a lighter note, I really think that you are good at writing. You should try to do original work if you want to - you are, like, natural at balancing world-building and character development. I'm kinda jealous, but I've learned a lot just from reading your fic.

Shen Yuan blinked at the screen. It was one thing for random commenters to leave praise, but for some reason, hearing it from Fall felt... different. He found himself smiling stupidly, warmth blooming in his chest. Fall was just so…

He was lovely.

A great “bro”, it seemed. Way to be bro zoned.

Shizun: First of all, don't you dare to

sell yourself short! Not on my watch! You’ve got some pretty good ideas yourself. I can tell from your comments you’ve got a solid grasp on storytelling. Second, what the fuck, Fall?? You okay???

There was a longer pause before Fall replied. Shen Yuan knew that logically, Fall had to be safe, since he could write - they had been communicating constantly for the last two weeks -, but that didn't make it less scary. To know that Fall could have…

To think that Shen Yuan could have died… if either of them died…

They could have never met. It was a strangely disturbing and upsetting thought.

Fall: I'm good, I'm good! Dw!

Fall: Okay, but consider this: I don't think anybody would be interested in what I'd write. What I would like to write about.

Shen Yuan only had one answer to that:

Shizun: I'd read that.

Fall didn't reply for a long time after that, but that was okay. Shen Yuan assumed he needed some time to think about it, and that was okay. He just hoped his friend would realize how much Shen Yuan thought the world of him. He believed in Fall, even if Fall didn't believe in himself.

Shen Yuan, after all, had experience in believing in authors with great potential, who lacked the spine to be themselves and write what they wanted, instead of what the majority of the people demanded.

-*-*-*-

Fall: I've been thinking a lot about SJ and the way you portrayed him handling the Immortal Alliance Conference. It was fascinating to see the parallels. Him killing WY, who murdered those kids to save YQY versus him throwing LBH into the Abyss, believing that he, as a demonic cultivator, also killed all those kids. It was such a great moment! Shocking, because I think we all thought he would not do it since your SQQ wasn't as brutal as Airplane's, but you executed it so well! Oh, I wish Airplanes would have done the same. So heartbreaking! While PIDW created a monster out of SQQ, you created a human.

Fall: I'm also wondering if you plan to make him struggle with that choice later. Like, will he regret it in hindsight?

Shen Yuan considered this, tapping his fingers against his laptop. Fall always asked questions that made him rethink his plans. Actually, he didn't really think that he did such a great job at drawing parallels between the two Conferences, so he planned to switch POVs and continue it from Luo Binghe's, but…

It was actually a great question. The readers already knew about Luo Binghe's experiences in the Abyss more-or-less. Shen Yuan planned to show how staying at a more stable peak affected his physique, but it could be fascinating to explore what happens to Shen Qingqiu meanwhile.

Maybe he could do both…

Maybe-

Shizun: You raised a good question. I think I'll have him grapple with the consequences, it could be interesting to see how things turn out in the mortal world.

Fall: I think you should do it. It would fit your world-building theme… You could make the story feel more real. Like, the world, the characters and their choices have weight, y’know?

Shen Yuan knew exactly what Fall meant.

Shizun: Yeah, you are absolutely right. It was definitely something PIDW was missing - characters suffering real consequences. Even if they did something, be it either bad or good, it didn't really matter, because they either died in the end, or…

Fall: or had sex?

Shen Yuan snorted, typing back quickly.

Shizun: I wanted to say kinky, yet utterly boring papapa, but yes.

Fall: Oh, don't mention it! If I never read the words ‘thrust’ and ‘dangling’ again, it’d be too soon!

Shizun: I hate you.

Shizun: I want to bleach my eyes. I hate those words! And all the euphemisms Airplane use. ‘Flowers’, I get. Even ‘heavenly pillar’ makes sense! But comparing breasts to cow's udders?!?! Sometimes I wonder about Airplane's sex ed background…

There was a longer pause after that. Only his nervous ticks revealed his anxiety over that pause. Was he too offensive? It was not his Peerless_Cuvumber acc, so maybe he shouldn't have been so critical over the papapa scenes? But that was the best part in his friendship with Fall! He felt free to be open, to be himself!

Before he could work up himself, a reply came.

Fall: Maybe he doesn't really like writing sex? Or specifically, hetero sex? Maybe he is…

Shen Yuan stared at the words.

Airplane, his favorite and most hated author might be similar to him?

Maybe.

But…

Shizun: Don't care. I'm gay, and I could write better hetero sex scenes if I wanted to! Sexual orientation is not a good reason to be so bad at something!

Only after he sent the message did he realize that he fucked up. Sure, he might have flirted sometimes as they were talking with each other, but only within the boundaries of a no-homo friendship. But now that he came out in the heat of the moment…

He didn't want to lose a friend.

Fall: Okay, but you are different. You dare to write what you love.

Shen Yuan only realized that he had been withholding his breath, when he could feel himself breathe normally. It was not an explicit acceptance-

But it wasn't a rejection either.

He would take it.

Deciding, he would not bring attention to his accidental came-out, he wrote:

Shizun: If you ever decide to write something, you can also write whatever you wish to. It will be great, I'm sure of it!

There was a break in the conversation, again. He hoped he didn't push hard, since he knew Fall had been pretty hesitant to talk about his own writing in the past, but he hoped his encouragement helped.

Fall: Maybe one day. If I get brave enough to write something worth reading, you’ll be the first to know!

Shen Yuan smiled at his phone, feeling the familiar warmth settle in his chest. He wasn't sure why, but the idea of Fall sharing his work with him first, felt like something worth waiting for. The guy had a way with words, it was obvious from his comments. He was insightful and had an eye for details. Shen Yuan knew that if he ever wrote something he really liked, it would be an instant hit.

-*-*-*-

As the time passed, the day of Shen Yuan’s discharge loomed closer and closer. Which, don't misunderstand him, he desperately waited for!

However…

He had to admit. He didn't really want to leave the Hospital Guy. Sure, he still didn't know much about the guy - not even his name, for fuck's sake! -, but he had grown attached.

Hospital Guy was funny and smart and weird and hilarious. Shen Yuan enjoyed spending time with him, their quiet moments in the garden. He liked talking with/to him about everything and nothing. Hospital Guy was attentive when he ranted about the series he binge-watched between two chapters of PIDW, and they also had the same taste in music! He liked seeing the guy relax, and he loved it even more that he, Shen Yuan, was the reason for his more relaxed state!

He just liked Hospital Guy, okay?! He was just adorable, both inside and out!

So, on the day of his discharge, Shen Yuan mustered the courage to do the one thing he had yet to do: visit the guy's room.

Hospital Guy was clicking wildly on his phone, but the moment he noticed Shen Yuan, he stopped, and focused all his attention on him.

“Hi,” Shen Yuan said, surprisingly shy.

“Hello, Stranger,” Hospital Guy grinned.

“I'm leaving today,” he blurted out. The grin was instantly gone from Hospital Guy's face, turning into an unreadable mask.

It was concerning.

“Oh,” was all he said.

Shen Yuan waited, hoping for something more. A request to stay in touch, disappointment for not continuing their daily walks, or at least a goodbye that felt more meaningful. He waited for something, anything-

But the guy just nodded, his gaze drifting away from Shen Yuan, as if with that, he had already forgotten about the friend he made in the hospital.

Maybe they weren't really friends. Maybe everything was only in Shen Yuan's head.

Maybe he had bothered Hospital Guy all along.

Disappointment surged through Shen Yuan. He’d thought, maybe, there was something there; a connection, a friendship, maybe even more! But the guy didn’t seem to care.

It was as if Shen Yuan didn't even exist anymore.

“Alright,” Shen Yuan said, his voice tight. He would not cry. He would not scream. He would not fight. He would not bother Hospital Guy ever again. “Take care of yourself.”

And with that, he left.

[silvertws]

PETRO WAS CRYING AND I WAS CRYING OMFG.

SABRE WHY.

WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO US.

Nah.

Nah.

Bro better pull a fucking 180 on that freaking little fairy-blue thing BECAUSE HELL NAH, HELL TO HELL TO THE NAH.

Leave the boys alone bish.

I'm too attached to them.

I cannot.

I CANNOT HANDLE ANOTHER APO-OWEN SITUATION OK?!!!

I think I would simply perish.

Gone.

Just like that.

Poof!

I hate how attached I am to the silly Minecraft guys.

BUT MY BRAIN... THE PARASITE... THE DEMON IN MY BRAIN WANTS TO LIKE THE SILLY MINECRAFT GUYS...

I need someone as unhinged as me to talk about the sillies, for my own sanity.

Which is, barely there honestly, but that's besides the point.

I believe in redemption arcs PETRO PLEASE, PLEASE YOU CAN STILL FIX THIS.

Please, I just want them to all be happy, I'm sobbing.

ncjekwlalls PLEASE.

Let the fellas be happy.

Like, I usually don't ship characters ok? After Origins I just don't.

But tbh platonically??? Hell yeah, let the fellas be wholesome, no kissing no nothing, just hugging, telling each other sweet things- I will literally be kicking my feet like a little kid.

Also, on a side note.

Ruined Reality rants and theories up ahead.

Heyyyyy guys how are we feeling about the Newest Ruined Reality episode??? Yeah all good? Just doing a check in on all of us.

I mean, yeah, as expected.

Also, alright, this is gonna become a slight theory moment.

Rainbow crystal + heart of the soulstice?

You know how the rainbow crystal is made with the energy of the chromatics?

Yeah well, if the rainbow crystal still works, which I'm led to believe , fusing that energy with the heart, could potentially... Either give life back to the chromatics... Or... Create new chromatics but using the older souls, kinda like reincarnation.

ALSO AH, MY THEORIES WERE KINDA CORRECT HELL YEAH.

Mf First Curse better not bother Light smh Balance, go punch him, you literally can, since you belong in the same omniverse-? So go and punch him thank you very much.

Anyway.

I seriously do not know if Light will be able to bring everyone back.

If he manages to bring Steves back, it's definitely not gonna be everyone.

Not only because a lot of bodies were destroyed, but also for a storytelling factor.

Which is why all of them staying dead is a bittersweet victory, sure, you did it Light, good job! Every Steve who's left is now safe from that! Except... Well, the last Steve kingdom kinda... Doesn't like you. So I don't know if you're going to be allowed there...

Oh, so living with the professor? Yeah sure, if you want to have another metal rod in your leg you can.

Living with Ellie and uh... Cassian....?(I am so bad with names omg) in their little magic thing?

Yeah sure.

Go on.

They already adopted you my good sir, come on, they saw you and were like "yes, this one, ours now, yoink"

Also NCIEKSKSLLSLK PROXIMA.

Proxima the GOAT.

The FUCKING GOAT.

Even in death, EVEN IN DEATH BRO WAS STILL THE GOAT.

Another possibility.

TFC: "yo Light, sup"

Light "gtfo"

TFC "No u"

And then Light gets sent to ANOTHER UNIVERSE Just to suffer AGAIN.

Because remember kids.... TFC cursed Light to suffer FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND- yeah you get the gist of it.

So what happens when there's nothing more to make him suffer with in one universe...?

That's right... You send him to another one so he has to start all over again... And again.. and again...

BUT BIT BUT

I find this very unlikely because the reset trope is kinda overused and annoying and I also believe it would take out from the whole experience.

Like on a long run, it makes sense that TFC would do that.

BUT THIS IS A MINECRAFT ROLEPLAY GUYS.

There's just some things you cannot do or play with enough depth.

So, going back on the main topic.

What happens now?

Well, Light, Seer, Galaxy and To- FUCK THAT MF KILLED SOREN AGAIN I CANNOT.

I CANNOT WITH THIS GUY.

Smh, letting Light go through the loss of Soren not once BUT TWICE.

smh.

Anyway.

Now.

I already tried to explain how I think the rainbow crystal might be tied to "fixing" this.

And I think that's honestly our best bet.

Like, before this episode, I honestly thought they were simply going to yoink it from Lewis and Light was gonna use it.

But apparently they didn't do that...

Also like I'm sorry.

WHY THE FUCK DID THE RAINBOW CRYSTAL, STAY FUSED WITH LEWIS EVEN IF HE WAS DEAD.

Nah cause like, I always found that, not particularly logical.

Without the energy from the host, the only thing left with energy IS the crystal.

It would have made sense, in that case, if the crystal, its energy, also caused Lewis body to "live" but without actually being Lewis. But pure energy.

How would the crystal stay fused with Lewis?

Does that mean bro still has some energy somehow?

Was it the soul energy that kept them forcibly united?

I'm probably looking too much into it ngl, it's probably another plot hole or simply something that will be explained later... Maybe.

If the rainbow crystal is not going to be used in any way with the heart, I'll be surprised.

It could be like, a rainbow heart or whatever.

It's seriously the only thing I have going on right now.

Because it's the only thing with enough chromatic energy left to actually do something.

Unless SOMEHOW Light goes back to the other Steve Kingdom and Genesis is fucking alive, just like that, randomly, because he can.

I have no idea if any other deities are actually canon in RR.

Is Origin Steve canon? Or any of the other things in Rainbow Quest? Because Seer, Colle, Genesis, are all things from there as we know.

So just how much from that universe also transpired into this one?

Are demon Steves a problem we're going to have to deal with after everything and Seer is finally put to rest?

Also, yes, Seer will die.

I mean, he literally asked to be killed guys, what do you want? I say let him die. Colle is gone, that's enough pain already, I'm not gonna watch Seer becoming Void again (which btw, I think it's already happening or has already happened during the fight and Void is simply playing with everyone as per usual).

Still hoping for a Light corruption/villain arc (more like corrupt) because bro deserves to let out some steam and I support Light in literally everything he will do at this point.

He needs a beach episode fr.

Actually, no.

WE need a beach episode.

... I'm drawing that shit, I'm putting that in my nonexistent list of things I need to draw for my own sanity.

Oh.

Wait.

I completely forgot about the redstone core guys.

I mean, I don't think that's gonna help..? Idk I feel like it's a different energy from the one in the crystal or the heart so... Idk...

But maybe it could still be used for other things???

Also, we could simply get a time skip, to like, months later or something.

It has happened before and I honestly wouldn't mind it.

There's like, the option of going to the last Steve kingdom and asking them for help, but they must have moved by now, sure we can locate them with the assistant I suppose, if it comes down to it.

Also, one thing.

(idk man, some of y'all might find this offensive or call me chronically online for this :/)

Me whenever gay is used mockingly in a Steve-verse story while literally everyone is the same fucking gender as the other and their reproduction is literally based on MAGIC.

Like I'm sorry but make it make sense.

It's probably one of the things that annoys me the most.

I'm not saying that now everyone is forced to accept ships between certain characters.

I'm saying that there are not many sexuality options in a world where there's usually one gender.

You're either, Aromantic or something on that spectrum, Asexual or in that spectrum, Gay because there's literally one gender there to be attracted to.

Unless we're talking about universes that use more.

Or we could bring in the possibility that since they're all Steves or Alexes, they're all canonically non-binary.

I don't give a single fuck about romance, I can live without it.

But it annoys me, when comments are made, that logically speaking, don't make sense.

One of the biggest plot holes in RR until Ellie was introduced, was Cliff talking about women.

Which was resolved when Ellie came through and was like "no yeah, we exist actually, well used to".

Which again creates another plot hole to how tf did Cliff even meet one of those if they went extinct.

Disclaimer

I wanna clarify that I love RR and the other Steve verse stories or I wouldn't be talking about them. And that my rants are not directed towards the creators in any way, I do not, nor cannot, dictate how they decide to write their stories.

It's their tale to tell, I'm just here to watch, and listen.

I have opinions just like everybody else and if anybody ever takes offense (for some reason) to what I say, suck it up , talk to me like a normal person.

There are opinions to which I'm not willing to change my mind on, but I will still listen to others, just like there's some of which I will probably change my mind on.

As long as you're respectful about it, so will I.

Anyhow, I'm shit at explaining my opinions, because I'm horrible at conversations and English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if I made it look like I was being rude or judgemental.

[me-paina]

AO3 Recommendations Part 3

The start - Part 1

Previous recommendations - Part 2

Ok, hear me out🫸🫷. Last time I had 12 fics per fandom... How about this time... I do 14. Ok, I know, I know, I know, "But Me paina surely you're gonna run out of fics to recommend us"

... I won't hahaha.

I think I'm good.

Alright, Let's do this one more time. Here we go!

(No order this time)

UNDERTALE -

1. Valediction: United We Stand by TheMarionette404XD (Complete)

(United at last. It's so cute, Blue and Error finally get to see the gang, classic and his bro. It's on Error's birthday as well!?)

2. 10 Skeletons With 1000 Years to Go by Birds_And_Words

(Ongoing)

(I really love this idea of the Tale brothers being the youngest here out of all the Skele Bros. Damn, Sans is still supposed to be in Stripes, and he stopped being in Stripes not because he wants to, but because he wants to provide for Papyrus. That's just so sad T^T. At first, my reaction to the counterparts was like, oh wow they're scumbags! Like Bro, Sans is literally paying for you to live in your house and you guys are doing nothing to help the situation besides telling him that he's a bad brother and that they're gonna take Papyrus from him (well Blue did). Now that's just plain out ridiculous. How is this supposed to turn into found family, I don't see it. Well, as I read on, I got my answer. Now the counterparts aren't so bad, I mean, they're trying, and that's what matters... Right?.)

3. A Better Home by Maddyfairyqueen (Complete)

(STOP IT! Oh my gosh, I'm crying! I'm crying! Gosh, there are not enough fellswap gold stories. They are like my fav skelies!!! ( beside sans undertale ) I need more stories of them, actually scratch that, I generally need more of them. I love them and I don't really see that much art or animation. This was so sad and adorable at the same time. Wine is such a good brother, his like what every sibling should be like. I can't, this story was so good!!!)

4. red's session by underfellas (Complete)

(What. The. Fuck. Gosh, I fucking love Nightmare's gang ❤️. They are actually amazing. Red's brother on the other hand (In his fic) is an ass.)

5. Spirit of Bone & Metal by BubblyShip, RavenInTheGraveyard (Ongoing)

(This story has like sucked me in. It's a crossover between Undertale and FANF. I love this. Sans is just a depressed, tired, nice man who has too much empathy for his own good.)

6. Wings by DriftingDeadlocks (Complete)

(Cross my baby, don't be like that, you can tell the gang anything. They will always be here for you! Oh, and Fuck you Xchara.)

7. This solar eclipse by rainbowninja00 (Complete)

(This is soooo cute, Nightmare and Dream have swapped personalities, awwww my gosh, yes that is genius. Nightmare is sooo cute in this story, I hope when Dream is out of the stone he doesn't change and hate his brother. That would be so sad. )

8. Once a Hamato , always a Hamato by Blueberrywriter10 (Hasn't updated - 2023) :(

(I've been literally waiting for a crossover like this ever since, I joined the TMNT fandom. A frickin UNDERTALE X TMNT CROSSOVER. This is really sad, Leo getting picked up by fate to be the (forced) destroyer in a completely new multiverse. Poor Leo/Error! :( Gosh I feel so sorry for you.)

9. For the Forgotten Ones by Im_Sorry_Buddy (Complete)

(I don't think this fic needs an introduction but here is my bookmark comment: HOLY! HOLY! HOLY CRAP!!! DAMN! it's over. :( Oh my gosh, I remember seeing this for the first time in like what December last year and was like damn, this AO3 sounds amazing, I wanna see what would happen if Ink was recruited by Nightmare, AND let me tell you, it did not disappoint. My mind was blown away by how amazing the storytelling, characters, fluff, angst, everything was written. Reading the first chapter, I was like if this fic doesn't get popular then I'm going to pull my hair out. I can't describe how PHENOMENAL this story is. It flowed so smoothly, like, MMMM AMAZING. bhrefeaonroejafs I just can't believe it's over. :( What a frickin damn journey.)

10. Into a New Reality by Attripae (Ongoing)

(Sans in the MCU.... that was not what I was expecting)

11. The Littlest Angel by skeletonofanangel (Ongoing)

(Who would do that to a kid? Gosh, poor kid. Jeez, I hope the skellies take good care of them.)

12. The Colors Will Return, Brighter Than Before by ApatheticCinaRoll (Hasn't updated - 2023) :(

(Sans, Comic, my baby! Oh gosh, no, none of that self-hatred stuff. Gosh, everyone has their own problem. We need to give hugs to everyone!.)

13. Awake by Kaz_MJ (Complete)

(Oh my gosh, this is so sad. Horror no. T^T. Never trust a mushroom again. I'm glad the gang was there to help him through this tough situation.)

14. Discolored Bones by IGetCaffeineWithdrawals (Ongoing)

(Oh My gosh! I love this one. This is sooo cute what the frick. The baby bones y/n has gone through a lot and she deserves to leave that ill-forsaken facility. I hope the boys can adopt her that would be so cute. hufejidsvbfhgefs ahhh I want more!!!)

ROTTMNT -

(ROTTMNT)

1. Blurred Vision by violynt_skies for octolingkiera (Complete)

(I LOVE THE TWINS!!!!!!! and Leo is my fav turtle!!! The end was just too cute! (I also have glasses and my prescription is probably worse than what you describe, so I understand))

(ROTTMNT/03 TMNT)

2. Homeward Bound by IadaAnfisa (Ongoing)

(I can't... This is so frickin damn adorable! I love Rise Leo so much and knowing the 2003 gang is on the same boat makes me happy. Knowing full well what happens in the show and goodness me the Rise movie, I know there is gonna be so much angst, it's not gonna be healthy at that point. I mean, any angst is not healthy but ehh, I love it.)

(ROTTMNT/03 TMNT)

3. The Kids are Alright by WinterRain232 (Ongoing)

(Yes. This is found family galore. I love this! 2003 Turtles are like the coolest uncles, hahaha. I love my crossovers. I'm just glad that 03 Leo can crack rise Leo's facade and mask. My Rise babies have gone through so much. T^T)

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT/03 TMNT/87 TMNT)

4. The Ultimate Crossover by Jackagirl2016 (Ongoing)

(This is wild! My gosh, I'm just glad that everyone's ok. Big Mama is truly the evilest character in ROTTMNT. Well in the fics that she is actually bad which to be honest is probably more than the ones she's good at. I wonder what other adventures the rise bros would have with the alternates. Probably bat shit insane.)

(ROTTMNT)

5. what the blue will weigh by cryingpepperz (Ongoing)

(Hahahaha, the fuckin Krang apocalypse... here we go... My gosh, Leo, my precious boy. Why you gotta do that you. little self-sacrificial turtle. Raph is gonna be traumatised for the rest of his life. Thank you for writing this, I have also wondered what would it look like if Leo died first and well... This is the result. Heart chillin' result. Ha, can you see ma favourite turtle, bet you can't.

Hint: Donnie is up there with him. You can say that they are a disaster when together. 👀)

(ROTTMNT)

6. Would It Really Matter? by Angelpuns (Complete)

(Leo, why is it always youuuuu. Oh my gosh, this is so dark like... holy... I have no words. I love this so much.)

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT)

7. Leo Becomes A Mama's Boy by Fumbling_dumbass (Complete)

( This reminds me too much of when my grandpa passed. it's been 2 years. This fic made me cry. Their writing style is so beautiful. The way they write, and show their emotions in the words are just perfect. This fan-fic just reminded me that I'm not alone in feeling this grief. )

(ROTTMNT)

8. I May Be Invisible, But I Still Look Good by Dandy (Complete)

(Holy molly... Why didn't I read this sooner? This is actually horrifying,

“Bound to sight.”

“Bound to touch.”

“Bound to voice.”

Damn, imagine going through that, poor Leo. Now he has even more trauma piled up on him. I can't believe how emotional I got from this whole story! Gosh, I swear only ROTTMNT fics can do this to me. You are an amazing writer! Thank you for blessing us with this amazing story. Ahh, I'm not crying you are!)

(ROTTMNT/03 TMNT)

9. Cross Dimension Kidnapping (with pics) by AealZX (Ongoing)

(Holy crap, This crossover is amazing! I love how the 03 gang Is so patient and understanding of the Rise gang. Of course, Leo will be the one who is suspicious of the 03 gang. A classic Leo move.)

(ROTTMNT)

10. Where in the World Is Neon Leon? by 316_frogs (Complete)

(My gosh, This was a lot. Ahaha, I think the Rottmnt fandom is really going to the dark side of things. This fandom has the most angstyest and bat crap insane things I have ever read, and I love it. I need my angst to survive. In all that aside, HOLY, Leo my dude, you in fact did have a really bad time. I'm saying this again, I really love it when people talk about Leo's narcissistic nature as a mask to hide his emotions and how he really doesn’t feel that way— It just gives a new perspective- you know?)

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT/03 TMNT)

11. Oscillation by RussianSunflower3 (Ongoing)

(This is so frickin adorable! I love the idea of Donnie's machine + mystic power accidentally turning the rise turtles into tots and spilling them into different universes. This is already my jam!)

(ROTTMNT/Marvel)

12. Recoil by unorthodoxx (Complete)

(I am in absolute shock, this is seriously amazing the way the Rise gang interact with the Marvel bois is great and yeah, I understand their reasoning but I don't think that is the best choice. Amazing fic! read the series! :D Recoil and Impact )

(ROTTMNT/Marvel)

13. It's Instinctual, Sorry by avengersasssemble (Complete)

(I- DUDE, LIKE WHAT! This is the most cutest crossover I've ever read in my entire life. Like HUh?????? Donnie and Tony are such a good combo. The Rise team and the Avenger team are such a good duo.)

(ROTTMNT)

14. Spider's Web With Strings Attached by CurlySwirly (Ongoing)

(Ohhh, it's just big Mama, what could go wrong? Absolutely nothing.

EDIT: ... Everything can go wrong... Like... Everything. (Ch 10)

EDIT 2: OH GOSH THAT DID NOT HAPPEN! YOU DID NOT. (Ch 14)

EDIT 3: HE LIVES!!!! HE LIVES!!! (Ch 18 )

EDIT 4: BIG MAMA LIED TO DONNIE TOOO! HOLLYY SHHHH- SHE IS SO SICK IN THE HEAD!! (Ch 19 ))

MARVEL -

1. Unraveled by alltoowell_xo (Ongoing)

(So far, Peter's familial relationship with Tony is not as bad as I expected. Tony still cares in some sense and, the Avengers aren't there so I can't really read the situation with them right now, but Harley is kind of a dick. I know things are about to get probably worse.)

2. Tonys' Forgotten Son by clxdy_lil (Ongoing)

(This trope is getting popular, and I can't decide whether to love or hate it! It hurts my heart to see Peter like this. The difference between this fic and all the other, 'Tony has obvious favouritism' fics I've read, is that the Avengers are as much the same as Tony, but in this fic, they are actually trying to get along and see what's wrong. I know Peter's 16 and they haven't noticed before but it's better trying late them not trying at all. It warms my heart that (so far) Bruce and Bucky are trying.)

3. Apple Bobbing by Ilovemcu (Complete)

(Apple bobbing this not something you want to do if you have a very bad history with water. I mean, Tony is trying to ignore that he has PTSD and trauma from the hardships he has gone through, and the Avengers has to get it through his head that it's ok to feel that way and he won't get kicked out for it.)

4. unfeeling. by idiolex (Ongoing)

(This is so interesting! Making Tony have CIPA is heart-wrenching, and his having to hide it because of how he was raised by his shitty father is insane. Now in the present, he hasn't told anyone about it and it's becoming something that he might have to talk about it with the gang. Poor Tony!)

5. 3 Times Peter couldn't thermoregulate by orphan_account (Complete)

(Peter couldn't thermoregulate so the others helped him.)

6. The Greatest Show on Earth by StayGolden1 (Ongoing)

(Uh oh. This is gonna end so well, hahahah... My gosh why can't anything go right in a superhero's life. Most of the Avengers are captured and being recorded for the whole world to see. ( Fucking like The Truman Show ) The villain wants to get revenge on the Avengers and in doing so, it reveals all the darkest secrets from them. Trying to show the world who they really are... Some things are gonna be true but a lot of them are going to be false and well I really hope by the end of this, the heroes will still be heroes and they're is no one going to jail for this. (Maybe that's too much of a high hope, I mean we'll see.))

7. The Mystery of the Stolen School Bus by orphan_account

(Complete)

(My gosh this is Horror. The decathlon team gets kidnapped and watches as their friend gets tortured for money. Traumatic I tell you.)

8. Outsider by Lol_forgetMe (Ongoing)

(I hate and love these fics so much! This is heart-wrenching! I can't image how hard that must've felt. The Avengers just can't get their head out of their asses. Like really, is it that hard to see that the world's "mightiest heroes" aren't really being that mighty if they are really neglecting a child. A child that already had a hard life. Shame on you guys. I can't wait for more and see how this is gonna turn out.)

9. im pulling my teeth for you (i'm tired i'm tired i'm tired) by idiolex (Complete)

(Tony, my engineering guy. Damn, this just broke my heart. Tony is so scared of rejection, that he hides his true self away. I'm mad at the Avengers (and of course, it don't there fault) but they made some bad decisions.)

10. Let's take in another kid by Luxa08 (Ongoing)

(Oh my gosh, this is actually amazing. The idea of Peter tutoring Mara and then basically adopting her as his younger sibling when they figured something was wrong is so cute. Her mum is 100% a psychopath, that behaviour is utterly inhumane and disgusting. I'm so glad that Clint and Natasha and everyone really love her to get away from that terrible situation.)

11. Echoes by anonymousautist (Complete)

(This is so cute! Peter is the most amazing person ever and I love the bonding Bucky had with Peter!)

12. Hit them where it hurts by Lazuli_Lynx (Complete)

(Oh my gosh! Poor Cassy. That must be so scary. The Avengers are really going at each other's throats. How did the two spies and winter soldier not notice the guy that was messing with their coms and communicators? Well, glad we have Peter here to save the day. You go, Peter!)

13. Bonding Pains by LMDrums (Complete)

(Doctor Strange having problems with his hands. :( But don't worry Tony and Peter are here to help.)

14. maybe we can't be okay (but maybe we'll try anyway) by impravidus for peterstarkss (Complete)

(This is the sweetest and saddest thing I've ever read. Poor Peter going through such a hard time for most of his childhood and some are just plain disgusting, I don't even want to talk about it. I'm so glad that the Avengers are here for him and don't you just love them being domestic! I love it when fics have the idea of someone else adopting Peter and not just Irondad. Don't get me wrong, I love Irondad but it's a nice feeling of having other Avengers adopting Peter for once. if anyone have other fics that have an Avenger besides Tony adopting Peter AND a domestic Avenger tag, send them my way!)

If you made it to the end, comment with a 💓 and tell me which recommendation was your favourite. Also, feel free to share some of your own recommendations! >:D

[greypetrel]

Hey hey! 7, 23, 65 for the writer asks? c:

Hey there! :D

Here you go, thanks for asking!

I'm gonna put a cut because... Because the first two questions tackles in the perilous field of "Arja majored in literature and every time she has to discuss storytelling meta she's like this":

Tis the prompt list.

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

I think of who could give the most interesting insight over the same event, and choose according to that. It all depends on what I'm trying to achieve with that piece of writing and the vibe I want to give: in the end a dramatic event stays dramatic, the pov just changes the flavour.

Example: In the Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts chapter, I switch the POV a couple of times accordingly. In the first scene, it's Aisling because she's the only one to exactly hear what dear Gaspard has to tell her. It must be her POV to avoid a long explanation of how she felt in that moment... That she wouldn't want to give, because the second POV is Cullen and knowing he's not faring well, she would never, at this point, go into many details about how bad she felt. You can see in the second scene what would have happened if the POV started with Cullen right away. Yes, you get what happened... I think, tho, that seeing it first-hand could give a nice other side. It changes again for the mission because I wanted a little "Why the heck is she explaining us her plan?" moment, and to start introducing that there are other people working behind the ballroom. And the last scene, with the final duel with the assassin (censoring who is it because a friend who reads me hasn't played Inquisition and if she hasn't read that chapter I don't want to spoil her GREIS DON'T CLICK) which I kept even if SOMEHOW Aisling in game won Belle of the Balle (don't ask me why, Josie drugged her)... I switched back to Cullen, because him not knowing exactly what the Science Bros had planned added a sense of uncertainty and urgency that made the pace quicker and more surprising... Which fitted, I wanted a super quick scene.

Hope it made sense xD

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

EDITED because the former one was more for Original writing and meh I thought of something better.

Originality is overrated.

And by which I mean: looking and actively pursuing something truely original at all costs will only stress you out. It goes in original and fanfiction writing. Stories got told all the time, and if you didn't start writing out of a bubble without ever consuming any work of fiction, you'll get influenced by stuff you liked, whether you want it or not. It's normal, it's something you can see in big ass authors, in authors that you study as "big innovators".

Futurists, who prided themselves in being truely, 100% original by doing something entirely new... Still were influenced by what came before. Because to do the opposite of what came before you must know what did. You must know what you don't want to do if you want to do something different. And that's why Italian futurists were assholes and I hate them and you shouldn't praise them fuck you Marinetti. Russian futurism is something entirely, wildly different and the Russians HATED the Italians with a reason But I shan't start talking about futurists or we'll end up with an essay on that let me just kiss gently on the forehead mr Livshits I love you Benedikt Konstantinovich and your glorious autobiography.

All it matters is not what you write. Is HOW you write it. Give it your vision, give what matters to you, and even if the basic story is yet another fic of a pairing that got written by so many people... Nobody wrote your specific vision of it. And that's all that matters.

At the end of the day, in the hands of a good writer who believes and has something personal to say about a certain trope... The tropes I like the least on paper are something I enjoy from people that thought about it and that you can SEE loved that story. And it's great.

Edited from before because thinking about it better, it's true that genre should not be considered so fixed as I sometimes see them being... But I thought about it better and "mediocrity" shouldn't be so shunned. Write your story, I don't care if it's good. If it makes you happy writing it, if it makes you crack a smile and it doesn't offend people, go for it. Mediocrity is good, mediocrity shouldn't be demonized or looked upon with a frown. If it brings ONE smile to one person, that's a good book, no matter the originality of it. Which brings us to the point I edited this in.

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Uh, currently? I can't wait to end Monster Fic to start with DadWolf x°D

Beside that, I got half an idea of expanding a little on the collection of prompts about Raina... And writing something about the duel with the Arishok. Peak drama, peak tragic hero moment. I need to structure it a little better in my head, maybe replay that mission to have a clearer mind (the last time I played it it was with Garrett, aka a mage... Raina is a rogue and after Leandra she'll kill herself before allowing him to go in her place. Really it would be a categoric "No you're not going. Not in a million years." Yes they'll have the fight of a lifetime afterwards.). But yeah.

Also since today I really want to write a snippet of Dark Lady AU in which Cullen makes it to Barad Dur in friendlier terms and notices that there are cats EVERYWHERE. And as every good dog person that doesn't really like cats all that much he'll be LOVED by all the cats. He'll go to sleep and wake up from the purring. Will get used to it pretty soon, he just never paid that much attention to cats. Nazgul flying from Barad Dur to Mordor with backpacks with portholes to bring their cats around.

[pesteringchum]

list of interesting beta kid-centric fics:

this list is mostly for me to keep track of my favs so i can revisit them, but i wont spoil anything and you can feel free to add your own favs! im always on the lookout for good fics :D

fics are linked in the titles! also, for the older fics, heads up for possibility of homestuck-typical slurs n such. also also lmk if any of these links dont work

KEY: jade-centric, john-centric, dave-centric, rose-centric, all of them

At Rise - brechtian on AO3 (pub: 2022-07-17)

absolute masterpiece exploration of jade during “the alternate timeline 3 year journey, where john and davesprite die at the beginning” (<- quoted from ao3 tags)

written in a stage play style. light horror-ish elements, involves major character death.

And We’re Alive - RedPen on AO3 (pub: 2011-01-04)

exploration of the beta kids coping and surviving on a post apocalyptic earth all alone

interesting play on their aspects by using them to describe their location/time of day

Identical - X15lm204 on AO3 (pub: 2011-01-12)

chat fic btwn jade n john

not as action packed or dramatic as the other two but it was just so sweet. john jade best siblings

built on an interesting premise of the ectobio stuff. idk how i feel exactly about certain details but I enjoyed it overall and think there’s some potential here for more fics about this concept!

Liminal Space - floralmarsupial on Tumblr (pub: idk some time in 2022 i think)

fan comic w stellar storytelling and visuals but make sure to read the about for warnings!

many characters are explored but still quite jade centric

i think it’s based on the epilogues or smth bc vrissy has an appearance, but i haven’t read past homestuck so idk

Knitting, or, My Life In Yarn: A Rose Lalonde Story - orphan acct :( (2010-11-02)

fic where rose knits a lot for her pals as they play sburb

super interesting use of knitting metaphors! never seen that before :0

only criticism is the jade/davejade portrayal. feels off

[MILD SPOILER] i dont think jade would have any issue w shooting things if it was necessary. plus i hate davejade portrayals where dave is unironically the cool knight in shining armour and jade is the damsel in distress. let her kill shit! let her fuck shit UP!! [SPOILER END]

Hold Your Colour - lantadyme on AO3 (2011-03-18)

TW: idrk what to tag it with but it’s like. kinda stressful in a realistic way? dave has to figure out how to take care of himself after bro goes missing. mild mild sexual content [dave has to maintain bro’s smuppet websites (ie making smuppet porn) in order to make enough money to survive, but it isn’t described in too much detail] also there’s some blood and violence [dave beats up bro a little bit].

premise is that after sburb, all the kids are spat back out on earth and everything is normal—all of their guardians are alive and the earth is intact. except bro isnt there and none of them know why. dave has to survive alone until bro returns or until dave can no longer live in their apartment—due to running out of money and being evicted, running out of money and dying of hunger, or cps finding out and relocating him, whatever comes first

interesting read. stressed me out tho lol im a real wuss when it comes to reading stuff where the adversity is smth realistic like paying bills. nothing scarier.

Closing Time - Cephied_Variable on AO3 (2011-03-18)

this fic and the last being published on the same day is kinda funny to me lol. good day for beta kid angst

fic exploring how a normal person would experience the beta kids post-sburb

interesting exploration of them and how they cope. they are all so problems.

[audible--silence]

Sayu/GDL quotes / promises to self while drunk as shit

Que eres un baño?!

“Im so used to shit going wrong that it just doesnt phase me anymore”

“If i go into an office job id have to wake up in the morning, which i just don't wanna do”

A bar without a manager

Nothing feels better than going home but nothing feels better than leaving home too.

“Be a traveler not a tourist”

“I been keepin busy! No idea what with though. I just been smokin joints playing guitar and surfing”

One more bus

One more uber

One more hostel check in

One more round of storytelling how we got here

One more gig

A few more beers

Una mas cerveza

One more night

Una mas noche

No more waves

No more taco stands

No more in jokes

No more calling directions in spanish

No more setting up the tent in excitement

No more packing down the tent in a hurry

No more Duolingo sessions in a hammock

No more chess games

No more joints rolled at the last minute

No more joints smoked at all hours of the day

No more “you hungry?”

No more tracking down vegetables

No more long bus rides spent sharing snacks

No more movies on your shit tablet

No more pringles, principe and stoner snacks

No more reminding each other to get our shit together

No more jamming guitar

No dancing while doing simple tasks

No more of your tunes

No more guac n beer

No more two aussie dickheads

“Phone wallet shoes nothing on my head that im gonna lose”

“Adios Cabron”

“His drip dope, you gotta be 70% homeless, 20% gay to be fly”

“Whats the 10%?”

“Opium”

“Stoner! I choose you!!”

“Yeah well, fuck off” on cross cultural relatability

hope is a hell of a drug

The enemy was defeated, in a valiant battle with three little Mexican girls with long hair and cute gold glasses, not far from the stargazers, at midday, with ice cream. Or the youthful romantics, an archetype that seems to transcend every culture since society itself. Watched on in silence by the cute, erratic yet robotic, overly friendly squirrels. A picnic without snacks, soundtracked by Jeff Buckley in the shade of a well watered bush

Manifestation is gaslighting yourself

The heat of hell is ever so slightly warmer for you isnt it”

“You sound like a constitution”

“We need to rebrand politics but with much more sex”

“Dont smoke”

W dart in mouth

“A bar for a football team that never wins, for fans that never succeed”

“If you commit suicide you cant go to the pub”

a british guy

“Yeah but if you commit suicide, guess where we go? The fucking pub”

another british guy

A game of football can mean two very different things depending on who’s watching

A taco is only as a good as what you can put on it

Am i going to regret not going out? Enjoying it all? Being young n stupid in Mexico and everywhere else?

Will I regret not knowing what any of these drunk messages to self mean? Probably.

Booze is fuel for survival. I am a bartender who hates going out. A socialite who cannot stand socializing.

words from a drunk aus fuck in Mexico, solo, with a kiss on the cheek and a cuddle”

“Its fuxkin mexixo ya prick”- on uber eats, n walkin for street food

2.12 - the minute of the end of the phonecall w ya nan, the only pure soul left in ya life

Thanks for finding me phone - from a welsh cunt who likes flashing his dick

I love thinking while drunk because I don’t have to deal with the realizations

Chinga su madre but with a car horn

“We’ve literally sat down all day”

“Thats what traveling is about. Traveling halfway across the world just to sit down”

dive bars, tacos with drunks and adele on the roof till 4am

“I dont identify as American I identify as a marxist”

The more decrepit and dilapidated the restaurant looks, the better the food is.

Weathered hands make the food, not fresh paint on the walls

“Theres more to life than dating everyone you meet, i guess”

“I either need tequila or a sweater and im not sure which it is”

“The cartels comin” shoot ya drink

“You look good bro!”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, he’s just happy”

deja vu from a rooftop w some beautiful Mexicanos in GDL

“How dare you show so much grace so many time zones away”

feel like we gon spend the rest our lives searching for the thrill of skating to the ellenbrook hungry jacks at midnight for snacks while on a videogame bender

Lessons from seeing your favorite band in a new place: It’s better with your friends. In the place you came to love them, even if its less fun

“We have this saying in Mexico that says “Las bonitas tambien quiermbaila“ which means “the pretty woman also wants to dance”

[haekiiu]

before i get into my little review, if you will, i present my thoughts while reading this. 🤓☝️

excuse me?? U DONT GET TO FEEL SAD HAECHAN!! UR THE BAD GUY HERE FACK OFF

uh- anger management issues much? like she’s ignoring u FOR A REASON!! DONT PUNCH THE DOOR

OMG FINALLY SET THOSE BOUNDARIES GIRL!! FUCK HIM!!

too late…. she did.

okay now why would u go to tell her “good luck” STFU like it feels like a ploy to make her think abt him on her date- the guy is basically sabotaging her future relationship

damn. jisung and y/n didn’t work out…

_

NOW THAT WE’RE PAST THAT!!

I feel like what’s best for y/n is to cut haechan off completely. she physically CANNOT do “no romance” w haechan, and it shows so heavily when she keeps asking him to do lovey things for her such as take care of her, or when she got scared when haechan tried to treat her the way he treats all the other girls. like if all you guys are, is fwb, you should be okay if he just treats you as a quick fuck, no? like the whole point is that you guys are friends first, fuck buddies next? idk maybe just start calling each other bro and homie then- perhaps that’ll help their situation and help eliminate any potential romantic feelings.

i was honestly thinking jisung and y/n would have something more? but tbh after reading i feel very neutral… if anything, i think it’s better they didn’t work out, (from a storytelling point of view). i say this because up until this point, y/n has been SOOO obsessed with haechan and literally cant function without the guy in her life, (THE DICK CANT BE THAT GOOD!) and is still currently trying to sort her own feelings out in her head, so ofc she wouldn’t be in the right headspace or position to start a new relationship. and also i think it’s very realistic to have potential partners that’s just don’t work out, like that’s totally normal, and then ending off and agreeing on being friends is a healthy thing to do…. maybe… it is if they’re both being sincere, but if jisung isn’t being genuine about it- RED FUCKING FLAG RUN TF AWAY

i also don’t like how haechan was like, “we do things on your terms” but meanwhile they’re in a fwb situation he basically coerced her into? (some of my logic for this is below) like yea, he’s listening to her and doing whatever she says, but to me it’s like he pushed her into a corner with this one… and the line where he said:

“don’t run from it, just take it”

kinda resonates with me in the essence that when y/n finally decided to set boundaries, or when y/n wasn’t fully willing to start anything with him again, he pulls her back in, and just forces what he wants onto her. if they were to truly be following what what y/n said, and doing things on her terms, they would not be fwb right now. admittedly, i do think they might’ve talked and potentially rekindled again at some point, but im still a heavy believer that if y/n had gone long enough without haechan, and gotten past that initial, “i miss him” phase, she would’ve been fine (for the most part). she has an amazing friend, who’s also an incredible support system for her, and in the end, even she can admit time apart from him was good for her, when haechan was more hesitant.

when dealing with a manipulator like haechan, cutting them off and the aftermath of cutting them off, is always the hardest, but if you’re fortunate enough to have a support system that is taking care of you and showing you what life can be like without them, like JAEMIN, you’ll eventually reach a point from which you can heal from. however, y/n jumped back into this situation FAR too early, quite literally picking at the scab without letting it heal fully. like aiya… u stupid….

also, another thing, I HATE HAECHAN! like go away!! don’t tell her “good luck” before her date??? for this moment, whether it be intentional or not, going to see y/n, is such a manipulative move, and is the last thing someone who’s genuinely happy for her would do, and is very much a tactic to get the other person to think about them to a point where it might get overwhelming. not to to mention that this has the markings of someone who’s still VERY possessive over the other person, which he is. ik this sounds funny, i know, but it’s not like they were friends before this, they had a sex based relationship that was romantically charged, where both parties got hurt, and where both parties are still getting over their residual (more like current) feelings from it. i honestly think that doing this is a way for haechan to still control her. he’s obviously not okay with her going on this date, and i’m betting you that if she knew he wasn’t okay with it, she wouldn’t have gone. and just in general, i feel like it’s going TOO ABOVE AND BEYOND to show her that you’re happy for her and rooting for her? like? that’s so odd, who does that?

ANYWAYS i feel like i’m still processing things, so i’m kinda just rambling, but moral of the story here, JAEMIN ALWAYS KNOWS BEST!

(im also lowkey half asleep while writing this so please excuse anything that doesn’t sense)

haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 2 of 3

wc: 18k (yay!) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), a bit of fluff warnings: wet dreams, jerking off, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex, making out, praise kink, strength kink (? he's strong...) crying during sex, dirty talk, aftercare...? petnames (baby, princess), and ... names needs to be read after part 1 i think! a/n: shorter warnings list lmfao anyway.... i....this took me awhile but i really hope u enjoy this and the way it reads. let me know what you think and please be kind :) thank you thank you THANK YOU to every single one of you on my taglist and if you've sent me an ask, reblogged, or left a comment. i could not have finished this without u

haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — especially to you. 

he knew what he was doing each time he showed up around you at a party, love bites staining his skin and hair messy and wild. he noticed the way you recognised the perfume on him with a crinkle of your nose, or the slight flicker of sadness in your eyes when his phone would vibrate against the bedside table, wandering to the names on his phone. he could feel the way your shoulders tensed when he smiled blankly at you, track your movements as you looked away when he was cozying up with someone else. 

and most of all – he knew that beyond that, you couldn't go to him for all your hurt. and that was what would be most painful, the knowledge that everything you had to suffer was unjustified, feelings not tied to reason, because he never made you any promises.

haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — and he always hoped that his touch could be a good enough apology. 

all throughout rehearsals, when they took the trip to the venue, back to when he had woken up that morning, something had stirred in his chest. he was never nervous before shows, but this time he fiddled with his guitar mindlessly, wandering over to the bar and ordering just a few drinks to hopefully dull the way his heart was racing in his chest, alcohol burning a path down his throat. he picked at the way his hair fell over his eyes, re-doing his makeup before the show with the black eyeliner that he couldn't hold without thinking of you. his bandmates watching him carefully, not knowing what had changed. he wouldn't be able to tell them if they'd asked. 

it was only when the girl in the bathroom had stumbled away on shaky feet, leaving one last slick touch on his arm as a goodbye, when all his feelings that had ached in him that day came crashing down in his chest, that crushing weight he couldn't ignore each time he tried to breathe. 

you had kissed him — and it felt like a promise. 

it was this thought that now stung at him, as he watched the numbers on the screen of the elevator flick higher and higher. he had made his way to your apartment as if on autopilot, driving down streets now too familiar. he always knows the hurt he causes you — and he feels it now, like retribution, because even now he has no right to be angry at you. no right to blame you for his hurt, because while he had never made you promises, in reality you hadn't either. 

but the reality was he was here now, knocking on your apartment door. 

"y/n?" 

there's warm light seeping out under your apartment door, he can see all your shoes on the rack outside. jaemin's not home, but you definitely are. 

he knocks again, a bitter taste in his mouth. 

"y/n, i know you're home." 

his hand curls into a fist, and he hits it against the door, twice. he thinks he can hear something beyond the door, a clink of something like keys, so he raises his voice, the tone of it rough. 

"are you happy now?" 

mark has told him he gets vindictive when he's hurt or scared, has urged him to think before he speaks. 

"does it make you feel like you have the upper hand? standing me up?"

but haechan can't distinguish what he's feeling right now. 

"because i don't care at all," he spits, lies he'd never rehearsed, the alcohol mixing with thoughts he didn't even know he had, to inflict the cruelest hurt. "at least i know the girl i fucked didn't feel any different." his voice dips low, cold freezing over each syllable. "i hope you know even if you went, i still would've picked her. it didn't make any difference." 

the night is still, and quiet. his words seem to swell in the air, ringing around in his head. he stands in front of the door, head lowered, hand still lingering on cool surface, breaths dragged out of his lungs painfully. he waits for so long, that he wonders if he was speaking to no one at all — if you'd been asleep, if he imagined the sounds beyond the door.  

but then there's a soft click, and the door drifts open. 

the moment haechan sees you, he feels it like a shot to his chest, because something was terribly wrong. 

it's not just the tears running down your cheeks. 

your face is blotchy and red, dark circles under your teary eyes, your hair mussed up and tangled. you're wrapped in layers of clothing despite the cool summer night, your body still trembling with cold, and when you speak, your voice is so hoarse and broken that it makes goosebumps break out over his skin — and an achy tone he never wanted to hear from you ever again.

"it didn't make a difference?"  

his lips part. he tugs on his jacket, trying to to close it, to pull up his collar a little higher, but it's too late — your eyes are already reading the marks on his skin, drinking in every last detail of him. 5 minutes ago he had wanted nothing more than for you to open the door and see him exactly like this — lipstick smudged lips and fucked out eyes, the smell of fake roses clinging to each fibre of his clothing, the rips in his jeans tugged this way and that.  

and all at once he knew — you had wanted to go, and he just accused you of the worst thing. you were going to go, and now he was forcing you to look at him like this. if the trip here made him feel vulnerable and bruised, he knew it must have felt like this for you too on the nights he didn't ask for you — the two of you sharing feelings that you weren't supposed to have, that you couldn't justify.  

now haechan sees the way your face crumples, tears gathering on your waterline. you lift your hands to wipe them away, and it's like he can feel the way your chest shakes with wounded sounds and choked sobs, your fingers clenching into fists as you bite your lip to keep from bursting into tears.  

"y/n-" he breathes. "are you…is everything —" 

"s-so you didn't mean it? when you invited me?" you're trying to steady your breathing. every second that passes where he's watching you fall to pieces in the doorway feels like it's searing into haechan's skin, the heavy feeling in his chest increasing tenfold with guilt. he swallows, as he watches you take a few deep breaths. "i thought… i thought it meant…when you invited m-me you said you weren't making empty promises —" 

"i wasn't." he bites his lip, taking a step towards you. "y/n —" 

but you back away. "i was going to go, haechan. i was really going to go –" 

"i know." he knew now. 

" — but i've been sick since yesterday, and it wasn't getting any better, i couldn't leave the house –" 

"why didn't you tell me?" he desperately wants to run away, but he knows it's worse for you. 

your voice is small. "i don't have your number."

it had slipped his mind. it was something so stupid, something so small – how he never wanted to give you a way to talk to him, or give himself an easy way to access you, didn't want things to be too easy. all of it had slowly built up to that feeling each time he glanced at his phone that night, clutching the lifeless device in his hands. 

the last thing he should do, if he ever wanted to see you again, is blame you. he bites back his question of why you didn't ask jaemin for help, wrapping his jacket around his body self-consciously, running a hand through his hair.  "i forgot," he whispers. hurt flickers across your face again. 

"i d-don't know why i thought this would be different." you wipe at your face, biting your lip again to keep from trembling. "i hoped that maybe, even if i couldn't show up, you'd come here and take care of me. when i heard you outside the door…" 

the words have a bitter bite to them, and you spit them out like you hate the taste in your mouth, hate every memory associated with his care. 

"i'll take care of you," he pleads, quickly, stepping towards you. 

he doesn't know what he expected, if you'd showed up. maybe he'd play for you, and leave with your hand in his. maybe he could have taken you in his car, or in his soft sheets at home. brought you out for a late dinner, sit with you and let you pry him open as you always did. or maybe he'd say nothing at all, and nothing would have changed – he didn't know. 

his touch has always been his apology, always his way of reaching you through the only sure thing the both of you wanted from each other. but the look on your face tells him that the brush of his fingertips against your skin is only cruelty. 

"you're fucked up if you think i'm letting you take care of me now," your voice is grating, rough on his skin. 

"but i-"

"you'll hold me like this? force me to stare at the marks on your chest? breathe the perfume that isn't yours?" your tone is harsh and accusatory. he takes it all. "what were you going to do, if i showed?" 

and for once, haechan can't help but be honest. "i don't know," he mumbles, and he sees the words hit you like a strike to your face.

"you knew i wanted more," you whisper. "you knew i wanted to be close to you, but you always…you always –" 

"wanted?" he asks, quietly.  

"you can't think i still want to know you, after everything. whatever person lies behind all that…" your tears have stopped, your voice unfeeling. the numbness in you mirrors his own. "i want nothing to do with him." 

he can't think of anything to say. he reaches out a hand, and for a moment you let his fingers graze your arm, fear and hurt in the way they curl around your wrist, begging you to hold on to him too. you're scaring him, and he doesn't know how to go back, but he knows he deserves everything you're saying to him. deserves the way you shake free of his hold and close the door, his feet stumbling over themselves as he backs away. 

you said you didn't want to know him, that you didn't know him at all. but he can't help thinking that's not true, because you knew him enough to know exactly how to hurt him through the walls, through the boy he pretended to be, right through his chest and past his ribcage, right into his aching heart. 

—

ever since your fever broke, your life had been quiet. 

you go to all your classes. you cut down on coffee by getting sleep at night. you take walks with jaemin around the neighborhood, falling back into old routines. movie nights, and grocery trips. he was coddling you, and you felt it every day — coming home to warm meals, the way he was more forgiving over little disputes. you didn't deserve it, watching him slip out of the front door quietly, camera bag slung over his shoulder. 

you didn't deserve it, because you ached to follow. 

some part of you was still trapped inside your room, heady and aching, desperately trying to reach him. needing his apology, needing him to recognise the way he hurt you. you couldn't look for answers in your memories, but you played each scene back in your mind like a looping film reel, letting images suffocate you — his jacket falling open, love bites marking his skin, all the times he's slipped from your grasp. and yet, other fragments come back too — the warmth of his hand on yours in the car, the slight tilt of his head as he brought his gaze level with yours, seeking you out when things got too much. his quiet answers in the dark, the slow smile that spread across his face that made you glow, knowing you'd made him happy. 

"he got off lightly," you tell jaemin one night, the both of you on the floor by the couch. ice cream and wine drip condensation on the table-top, and the both of you are too heavy with the rush of sugar and alcohol, the clock ticking in the silence of the room as you sit.  

"you just want to see him again," he'd replied, quietly. "don't you?" 

"i just wish we could have talked." your voice is small. you and haechan never truly talked, except for some nights in the dark, lying in his arms afraid to breathe, afraid of breaking the tenderness that swelled in the room, afraid of turning on the lights to see who you were holding in the shadows.

"and then what? you'd be together?" jaemin glances over at you, and the concern in his eyes makes you shrink back even more. you were supposed to be doing better. everything in your life was right, it was exactly the way it should be — but why did you feel empty? 

"then i'd at least have closure," you mumble. "i'm never going to get any answers unless i talk to him." 

a brief expression of discomfort crosses jaemin's face, but it's gone when you blink. 

"i just don't want you to see him again, and forget all the ways he hurt you." 

you don't say a word. both of you knew that it was something too likely to happen. 

—

it's dark in haechan's room. the boy liked it shadowy, black-out curtains drawn over the windows, the air cool from air-conditioning, an air humidifier spewing light blue mist in the corner. the boy sitting in bed had his guitar in his lap, picking at the strings quietly, his phone face-up on the bed next to him, recording his ideas. he was swaddled in a large hoodie, swallowing his frame, shorts riding high on his thighs as he curls into himself. 

he doesn't look up when mark shuffles in, closing the door behind him quietly, blinking as his eyes adjust to the low light. 

"jaemin's outside." 

haechan nods. "i heard you." his voice is a soft sound, boyish. mark has heard it enough growing up, that he knows haechan is scared. he knows haechan is waiting for answers, waiting for the verdict.

"he says he'll only continue to work with us if you stop seeing… y/n." 

the name trips in his mouth, clumsy. it feels strange to use it, especially around haechan, who knows you more than any of them do, like he's saying something he's not allowed to, a boy using an expletive he doesn't understand. haechan's body tenses when he hears your name in mark's voice, predictable, almost laughable — the slight tightening of his nimble fingers on the neck of the guitar, slip of his fingers on the guitar pick. 

"okay." and the boy goes back to playing. 

"you'll stop seeing y/n?" 

"yeah." mark moves closer to the bed, sees haechan's lower lip caught in his teeth. 

"haechan, stop." 

the boy shakes his head roughly, plucking at the strings a little harder. 

"what happened? what happened between you and y/n?" 

"i'll stop seeing her." 

"stop acting like i don't know you," mark mumbles, finally sitting down on the bed. haechan stills, as mark pulls the guitar away from him, his hands going limp as he lets mark set it down at the foot of the bed. "i hate it when you do that."  

"i'm sorry." a beat, then haechan buries his face in his hands, pulling at his features, before letting his arms drop down to the bed again. "could you…could you at least tell her?" 

"tell her what?" 

"that jaemin told me to stay away." haechan fiddles with the hem of his shirt, head still lowered. "i…i shouldn't be the one avoiding her. she should be avoiding me." 

"is there a difference?" 

"yeah." he mumbles his words, plush lips barely forming each syllable. "because i hurt her. i can't hurt her and then ignore her…that's…that's not right."

"so you want to keep seeing her?" 

"i just want…" his voice is hollow, and when he looks up at mark — the dim light in the room catching on the features of his face, mark can finally see the way his lips were raw, skin torn and bitten. his eyes, usually sharp and piercing, are puffy and swollen from crying, dazed pupils blinking up at him. "mark, i don't think i've ever hurt someone like this before."

mark wonders what he could have done, but he doesn't ask. "do you want to make it right?" 

"i don't know how." he swallows, throat bobbing. "i don't know if i can." 

"maybe avoiding her isn't the best thing…" mark starts, putting a hand on haechan's arm, but haechan flinches. 

"the band will kill me. jeno will kill me." mark opens his mouth to argue, but already haechan is leaning back against the headboard, head lowered and looking down at his lap. "i'll do it. i won't see her again."

"it'll be fine" mark reassures, softly. "in a few weeks, after a few more people, you'll forget all about her." 

neither of them really believed it. 

—

as jaemin sits on the couch — jeno sprawled on an armchair with jisung perched on the armrest, mark sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, he thinks about how these boys have become his close friends. he fits in with them in a way he never has with his other clients — evenings spent photographing them, understanding them through the lens of his camera. cycling trips with jeno, bringing out mark's competitive streak as they drank in the kitchen, babying jisung and taking care of him when the other bandmates weren't around to do so. 

and of course, getting to know haechan — teaching him how to use a camera, chatting with him easily about the city. if jaemin was to be honest, haechan intimidated him a little with how guarded he was, every sentence he spoke to jaemin felt like it'd been turned over a million times in his head, each word careful and poised. he also disappeared for long periods of time, sometimes never there during parties. 

now jaemin knew what the time had been spent on. who he'd spent it on.

"we're really sorry." it's mark who speaks up first. jisung nods in agreement, while jeno looks on. 

"i don't need you to be sorry," mumbles jaemin. "it's not your fault." 

"still…" mark scratches the back of his close-cropped hair tentatively. "he mentioned it."

"what did he say?" 

"he didn't tell us everything," jisung says, voice hushed. his hair falls over his eyes as he ducks his head in thought. "mostly just told us to stay away." 

"did he sound like he wanted them to be exclusive?" 

mark and jisung exchange a glance, but it's jeno's voice that answers just as mark's lips part. 

"no." when jisung bites his lip, jeno raises his eyebrows, annoyed. "are you kidding? he just said he fucked her more often, and that we should fuck off." 

jisung looked wounded. "he didn't say that." 

"but that's what he meant." 

"mark?" 

jaemin calls out to the boy, bringing him out of his thoughts. mark was staring at his own hands, a frown creasing his face.

"haechan agreed," he says, slowly. your name lingers on the tip of his tongue as he says it, like he's tasting the sound, the unfamiliarity of it in his mouth. "i…i think i might know what's going on with haechan, but it's up to him to explain, not me." 

"so he won't see her anymore?" 

the words come easily to jaemin. he knew it was the deal he was going to make the moment he texted mark to ask if they could talk. he was willing to lose his growing friendship with the rest of the boys if it could give you peace, if all of you could go back to the way things were. 

he think back to how he found you — struggling to head out of the door the previous day, barely able to make it to the door, the fever burning up your brain and making your bones ache. he thinks of coming back home to you after he'd went to the pharmacy to get you medicine, slipping his shoes off at the door and immediately knowing that something had changed, from the tears streaming down your face. 

"how did this happen?" 

"he came to see me" you mumble, struggling with the sleeves of the thick sweater you were trying to pull your arms through. the moment you straighten, you wince as a dull pain throbbed through your head, hunching over again as stars blinked in your vision. 

"haechan?" 

he sets down the bag of medicine on the kitchen counter, picking up the thermometer and pointing it at your forehead. the light on the screen blinks red, and his eyebrows furrow, the displeased expression on his face only growing stronger. 

"why did you open the door?" he asks, slowly. "i thought we talked about this." 

"i thought…." your voice is scratchy, as pressure seems to rise inside your skull, pain that made your eyes tear up. it's laughable that you thought he would take care of you, and instead he ripped you to pieces. tears well up in your eyes again, and your lips part, only to let out a small sob. 

he grips onto your arm, gently but firmly, steering you back towards your room. you don't have any strength to fight back, it felt like the temperature in the room was at freezing point even though jaemin was only wearing a thin shirt and shorts, and the ache in your bones made every movement shoot pain through your nerves. even after lying down on your bed, swaddled in blankets, the dim light slightly easing the pain in your head, you were too weak to lift your head, stretching your fingers out over the blanket and crawling towards where jaemin's hand rested on the sheets. 

he held your hand and listened to you talk, knowing you needed to let it all out. he didn't judge, he didn't make faces. just listened with his eyes closed as you told him about meeting haechan, the way he pulled you away from everyone else and how you'd followed. he observed you quietly through his lashes as you sniffled, breaths breaking up your words. 

the story got harder to tell when you recounted moments of his tenderness — when he'd call you his, when he took care of you, when he'd promise to be harsh with you but never went through with it, the way his face fell when you cried. you stuttered and hesitated through it all, because you didn't know if any of it was real or just imagined.

jaemin knows he could have hurt you further — broken every last illusion, pierced through the image of haechan you had in your head. but he didn't have the heart to, so this was the best he could do — making sure it stopped. 

"it's done," mark nods, but he looks unhappy. 

jaemin doesn't feel the weight lift from his chest like he thought it would. he feels jisung move to sit next to him, a hand on his shoulder as he observes his face. 

"i'm really sorry," he mumbles, lips barely moving. 

"it's not your fault," jaemin replies, leaning back against the cushions, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. 

—

haechan is dreaming again. 

except it's more memory than dream, the way you're laid up against the pillows, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaves kisses on your inner thighs. it's so vivid, the way you taste, the twitch of your muscles as you tense around him, the small gasp as he pulls away to sit back on his knees. 

"please-" you whimper, needy from being teased. scrabbling, you bring your knees to your chest, hands trembling as you hook them on your thighs, tears smearing your cheeks with a dewy glow. you were trying to keep your voice quiet, small sounds barely escaping your lips as you bit down on them, pleading with him through murmurs and barely coherent words. his shirt on your body crinkled everywhere from how he'd been grabbing at it, the long sleeves falling over your palms. it was straight out of a wet dream, which it now was, as you begged him to fuck you, your wet folds slick with spit and arousal as you bared yourself to him, pleading with him to sink into you. 

in memory, he croons. he gives you what you asked for — pressing your weight into the mattress as he pushes into you, feel you pulse around him as he goes in hard and deep, feel your body trembling against his. 

but in dream, he can be honest enough with himself to admit that it scares him when you cry. that his stomach twists when he hears you beg, like missing a step on a staircase, a second where he's rushing into nothing — not knowing if he'd made you like this, not knowing if he was hurting you. from the girl shaking against him, clumsy hands finding purchase on his shoulders, and you now — hips rocking into nothing, desperate for him. 

"i'm here," he whispers, gently taking your hands and slowly lowering your legs down to the bed. he kisses you until your breathing calms and slows, your hands now on the sides of his face, caressing his cheeks. he likes how you touch him as if you could ever bruise him, loving brushes of your fingertips, urgency making your fingers curl into his skin, hesitant scratches on his shoulders that your hands skitter away from. 

in dream, he pushes into you slowly, watching the way your lips part, breath caught in your chest, eyes fluttering closed as you take him in. wet sounds fill the room as he begins to move his hips, your face shyly tucked into his chest, your ankles sweetly hooked against his lower back as you melt together. the feelings in his chest intensifying the pleasure he feels from you wrapped around him. his eyes meet yours as you blink up at him, and it's so real — the way you glow against the sheets of his bed, eyes all soft and sparkling with tenderness. 

but then he wakes in the same bed: the feeling of you under him, the crash of his heartbeat in his chest, all of it hanging in the dark, a lingering tattoo on his body. 

—

so it's almost like a dream, when he opens the door to the stranger's bedroom, to see you slumped on the floor. 

the din from below echoes through the hall, the sounds of the overwhelming crowd seeping into the room and reminding him of why he was here. he'd been looking for a quiet place to be alone — the constant eyes on him making him feel self-conscious and jumpy. 

back at the apartment, jeno had said he wasn't being like himself, that he hadn't been himself in a long time, the memory of his laugh ringing in haechan's ears as he climbed upstairs. when has a crowd ever bothered you? when have you ever hated attention? 

he didn't know the answers. 

now haechan stands in the doorway, not believing his eyes. there was no way you'd known he would be here, alone. you're curled in on yourself on the floor, leaning against the bed with your knees tucked to your chest, eyes shut. your body is still, and for just a while longer he lets himself watch you for just a moment — drink in every single detail he'd missed even if it felt like teasing open his own wounds with fingers caked in salt. the rise and fall of your chest, your hair mussed up and falling over your face, the slope of your shoulders, your arms. 

and suddenly he's back in his bed, your weight the only thing he was sure of against his chest, drunk on the soft sounds you made, lips barely forming his name. 

you don't know he's here yet. he could walk away, leave you by yourself. but something in him told him he couldn't leave you like this in the middle of a party, barely conscious in a stranger's bedroom. before he knows what he's doing, before he can fathom the consequences, he's kneeling before you, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over your body. you reek of alcohol, stirring when you feel the weight of the leather on your body, your tongue numb and heavy in your mouth, eyelashes feeling stuck to your cheeks as you struggle to open your eyes. 

"y/n?" haechan whispers, choking on the sound of your name. 

"haech-" you trail off, fingers coming up to rub your eyes sleepily, the jacket slipping slightly. "haechan." it's the way you say it, like your tongue is too afraid to form the syllables, like something you can't bear to say. 

"i-i'm going to find someone," he mumbles, backing away from you, clumsily trying to get to his feet. "you stay here, i'll –"

"don't go-" the words almost get lost from the way you're slurring, lips barely moving, shaking your head as you reach for him again. your fingers slip on the sleeve of his shirt, before curling and holding on tight. "please don't leave." 

"i…" pain flickers over his features. he bites his lower lip, body moving towards yours instinctively, your hand crawling up his sleeve and grasping for his arm, fingers digging to the bone as you tremble. but then he feels your breath on his neck, and he pulls away again. 

"what happened, y/n? did someone hurt you?" he feels like a hypocrite. 

"no," you say, meekly. "i think i just had too much to drink." 

"did you come with jaemin?" 

you shake your head, nuzzling into him in a way that makes his heart pulse painfully in his chest. "i don't know anyone here." 

he still thinks he should get help from any of the girls downstairs. even as you meld yourself a little closer to him, he's almost certain you wouldn't be acting this way if you were sober. 

"y/n, i can't. please just let me call jaemin–" 

"want you here." you reach for him again, trying to pull him impossibly closer, fitting his body against yours. "don't want jaemin to see me like this." 

it dawns on him that besides jaemin, he was the only one you felt comfortable around like this. it wouldn't be the first time he's taken care of you when you were vulnerable or weak, and his body reacts out of habit — pulling you into his arms, his hands gently patting your back as you blink back tears in the crook of his neck. but it still didn't feel right, knowing he was the one who had caused this, and yet he was here holding you.

"let me talk to someone downstairs – i'll see if they can take you home," he murmurs. you bury your face deeper in his neck, shaking your head. "just 5 minutes, okay? i just need 5 minutes —" 

"don't want someone to bring me home," you rasp, and his gut twists painfully when i feels your tears damp on his skin. "i don't want to go back to my place. i want to go with you." 

"you're going to regret this," he says, softly. to him it's the truth you're not sober enough to see, even if it hurt to tell you. "you don't really want this, y/n." 

"is it because you want to find someone else?" your words are soft-edged, lips forming the words carefully, but it pierces him all the same. "is it- is it because you want to bring someone else home?" 

"no," he answers, quiet. "i haven't…not in a while." 

"so you just don't want to be around me?" 

his mind is racing, desperately trying to think of how he could help you, but his mind was coming up with nothing. that same feeling he always had around you — protectiveness intersecting with the ache in his chest everytime your eyes met his, all of it roaring in his ears, louder than the cacophony from any party. for all the times he's claimed he knew what was good for you, he's begun to realise that he has a terrible grasp on how not to hurt you. 

"you don't want to be around me," he corrects, but his fate is sealed when you let out a small sob, muffled against his shirt. 

and he takes you home. 

—

you watch him through your lashes, as he swipes a cotton pad on your face, cleaning off your makeup. 

"close your eyes," he mumbles, a slight pout forming on his lips from how hard he was concentrating, trying to be gentle with you. his touches are far too light, and you're sure your makeup is still on your face, but you let your lashes flutter shut anyway, feeling a featherlight brush against your eyelid as he holds it against your eye. dropping the used pad into a small bin, he brings a warm, damp towel up to your face, the material of it soft against your skin. 

"can you brush your teeth?" he holds a toothbrush up to your face, but he withdraws it once your hands come up to hold it, completely misjudging the distance and landing on his shoulders instead. "open," he coaxes, parting his own lips so you'd mimic him. he smiles fondly as you open your mouth wide, a hand coming up to hold your face in place. "good girl," he mumbles, and you preen at the praise that shines through your drunken haze, following his instructions to rinse out your mouth.  

there's a short pause. having brushed out your hair, removed your makeup and brushed your teeth, the only thing to do next was to get you to bed. 

your legs squeeze around his hips, your back against the mirror on his bathroom counter. "haechan," you mumble, tipsiness making you swallow your words. "don't…my clothes…" 

"i'll leave them on," he promises, ignoring the way your tight dress looks uncomfortable and unclean to sleep in. "don't worry." of course you don't feel comfortable around him, not after everything.

but for some reason, you're shaking your head, two clumsy hands closing in on one of his and guiding them to your back. "take them off. please–" you add, when he hesitates. "please help me."

"of course," he murmurs, familiarity sparking in his fingertips as they grasp for the zipper, a sense of dejavu in how he drags it down your spine slowly, your back arching slightly. you look at him, drink in the proximity like the first taste of rain after a heatwave — the pretty cut of his eyes, the way his pupils float upwards as he focuses on your back through the mirror. the round tip of his nose, and finally the plushness of his heart-shaped lips. it feels like reprieve, the ache in you finally soothed by the way his breath fans over your cheeks, a gentle balm on an open wound. you lean forward slightly into him as if drawn by a magnetic field, one of your hands coming up to trace the arches of his cupid's bow. 

"y/n?" you can feel his lips move, soft like rose petals on your fingertips. "what are you doing?" 

"you haven't called me baby all night," you blurt out. "or…or princess." your thumb dips to brush against his lower lip, before he's catching hold of your hand and pulling it away from his face gently. 

"i shouldn't," he mumbles, pressing a light kiss to your fingertips before letting go. "i can't."

your dress has gone loose around your body, and you push the sleeves off your shoulders with your hands, letting the fabric drop to your waist. you observe him, watching the way he swallows, throat bobbing when his eyes dart to your chest, lace draped over your curves. 

"haechan," you murmur, but then he turns, hands now fumbling with a pile of his clean clothes. he holds out a clean shirt to you, bunching it up at the collar to slip your head through it, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. 

"i want that one," you say, softly, pointing to a long sleeved shirt you'd remembered wearing before in the room he'd shared with the boys. something flickers in his eyes, his hands curling into fists before he picks it up. he's putting it over your head, the soft cotton hanging off your shoulders, his hands coming close to your body to guide your arms into the sleeves, until you can't take it anymore. 

"haechan, don't you want me?" 

his lips part, his hands stilling, slowly unfurling his grasp on you and placing his palms on the counter. "y/n…" 

"why aren't you-" you look up at him, biting your lip, your tongue too slow to form the thoughts your mind was racing with. "why haven't you touched me yet? do you not want me like this?" 

his heart splinters and fractures. you were so used to it — used to all his touches leading to kisses, kisses leading to him all over your body. "you're drunk." it's the only thing he can say. 

"i know what i'm doing," you fire back, but your words lilt and smear together. "ask me anything and i can answer you right now." 

but all he does is resume putting your arms through the sleeves, your limbs pliant against him as always, and soon you're completely covered up, and he can breathe a little easier. his strong arms grip your waist, and you're like a ragdoll in his grip as he guides you to stand, the dress at your hips falling, the shirt brushing the top of your thighs. 

it gets worse when he sets you down in his bed. in another universe, this might be a moment of bliss for him, something romantic and sweet in the way your body curves against his pillows, sinking down into them and blinking up at him hazily. but guilt still thunders in his chest, his vision split by lightning bolts of fear. you would wake up hating him. he would never stop hurting you. you would never want to see him again. 

your arms slide up his, grasping for him. "please," you plead, your voice small. "what did i do wrong? why don't you want to touch me?" 

"you didn't do any wrong," he murmurs, as he lets his weight sink into bed next to you, feel you curl up against him. just for a minute he tells himself — just until you fall asleep. your weight on his chest feeling like someone had doused his body with warmth, a comfort that made his eyes prickle with tears. "y/n, you're perfect," he whispers, the words melting into the dark.

"don't say that." he feels tears wet against the soft fabric of his shirt over his chest. "stop saying my name." 

"baby," he amends. "sweetheart, go to sleep." 

you hum. "haechan." 

"don't," he echoes. 

"what's wrong?" you mumble, your question heavy with sleep. 

he grips onto you tighter, holding you fiercely as tears cloud his vision. 

"i'm sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "i'm so so so sorry." when you don't respond, he nuzzles into your hair, freckling wet kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry," he repeats, long after you've fallen asleep. 

—

you wake up to the sound of laughter ringing out against the walls. 

the room is as dim as it was last night — dark curtains drawn and the lights turned off. time seemed to have come to a standstill, you couldn't tell if it had been days or weeks or even months since you'd fallen asleep. your body ached, still heavy with sleep while your mind cleared — it had been a while since you've slept this well.

blinking your eyes open, you slowly sit up, feeling sheets warm and soft against your skin. you sit there, dazed, getting your bearings as you survey the unfamiliar room again. your clothes, folded on a small couch next to the window. your jewelry on the bedside table, your phone plugged in to the charger. 

the only thing you recognised was the long sleeved shirt unmistakeable on your body, the familiar smell of perfume and body lotion in every fiber of the sheets.

stumbling over to the bathroom, the warm light brings back every memory — the party, the drinks, stumbling upstairs into a room as your consciousness slipped away, and then haechan, haechan, haechan. haechan leading you out of the party, taking you home in his car, taking care of you. your fingers ghost over your forehead, where you swear he kissed you just before you woke up.

you turn off the tap. in the silence, there's another round of giggles, bright like a child's, and then —

"baby, don't move!" 

haechan's voice rings lighter than you've ever heard it, and the smile in it is evident. this is a voice without shadows, fondness in every lilt and inflection. with something like urgency, you dry your hands on your shirt, padding out of his room, hesitantly blinking into the sunlit living room. 

you almost don't believe your eyes. 

haechan is sitting on the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pink lips stuck out in a pout. sitting on the floor, cross-legged between his knees, was a little girl — her hands busy with a doll, while her own hair was being meticulously braided and arranged by the boy…whose head snaps up the moment he hears the creak of the door. 

"you're awake," he blurts out, and the girl looks up. 

"hi!" she waves shyly, leaning forward towards you, but whining as the motion tugs on her hair instead. "hyuck! it hurts…" 

his eyes finally dart away from yours. "i'm sorry," he murmurs, lightly massaging her scalp with the tips of his fingers. 

"you're making it messy —" 

"right, sorry." he grabs a sparkly pink hairbrush and combs through her hair gently, beginning to rebraid. the girl goes back to her doll, settling back down and quickly losing interest in you. 

his eyes flick up to yours again, the tiniest hint of blush on his cheeks. "did you sleep well?"

you nod, feeling like you'd walked in on something you weren't supposed to. 

haechan studies your face, a strand of hair falling from his grasp before he tucks it in diligently. "are you hungover? there were painkillers on the bedside table, i don't know if you saw…" 

"i'm fine," you croak out. 

"and there's breakfast on the table," he murmurs, ducking his head back down to focus on the impressive french braid he was attempting. he looks back up when he feels you staring, as if fixed to the ground beneath your feet. 

"is she…?" 

"this is my baby sister," he answers, smiling softly. "sorry, i didn't know she was coming over today. her kindergarten is near here so sometimes i walk her to school." and then, with a nod towards the table, "please eat — i made too many sandwiches." 

the girl smiles, mumbling softly to herself. "hyuckie makes the best sandwiches." 

you can see 'hyuckie' blush at that, his lips pressed together tightly to keep in his smile as he pokes the little girl's cheek softly, going back to the braid. you cross over to the dining table, feet shuffling slowly, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the two siblings, watching the fondness in haechan's eyes. quietly pulling out a chair, you sit down and pick up a sandwich, holding it gingerly between your fingers. 

a hushed voice breaks the silence, and you turn to see his sister, cupping her lips against haechan's ear whispering so loud that her words fill the room. "is she your friend?" the girl asks, pointing her pinky finger at you, head tilted with curiosity. haechan's head tilts too, but his eyes wander over to yours as he hesitates. 

"yes, she's my friend," he says, slowly. "we're…good friends." sliding the hair ties from his wrist, he finally finishes tying off the braid, before giving the girl a gentle pat on the shoulder. "you can play for 5 more minutes okay? hyuckie needs to talk to his friend." 

her round eyes blink at you as she slowly gets to her feet, before tottering over to the window, where another pile of dolls lay. haechan clears his throat, before shuffling over to you and sitting down in a chair next to yours. 

although he adjusts himself to face you, he keeps his distance – legs drawn in under the chair, hands placed carefully on his knees in a way you'd never seen him do before. it feels like the space between the both of you spans for entire oceans and continents, an invisible force field that holds weight against your limbs, keeping you from leaning in, incapable of even moving your fingertips. 

"are you sure you're okay?" 

he looks at you — his expression soft like wax melting around a candle wick. 

"do you…do you remember how you got here?" 

you nod, taking a deep breath. "the party?" 

"i'm sorry that you're here like this," he says, quietly. "i didn't know you were going to be there, i wasn't trying to corner you, i swear." 

you nod, dazed. 

"are you upset with me? for bringing you here?" at the conflict in your expression, he adds on, hurriedly, "i-i know it wasn't the best thing to do. i could've called jaemin, or mark, or anyone downstairs…it's just that i didn't know…i didn't know if it would be okay–" 

" — i'm not upset," you cut him off, the pressure easing as you raise a hand jerkily to place it over his. "i believe you. thank you for taking care of me last night."

he exhales slowly, and when he speaks he sounds even more troubled than before. "you…you shouldn't thank me. you shouldn't thank me for anything."

his eyes dart over to his little sister, checking in on her, and the sense that you're intruding on something creeps up on you again. 

haechan had been right — there was so much of him you didn't know. you hardly recognised the boy sitting beside you, despite a vague sense of comfort and familiarity in the slightest traces of his expression, the look in his eyes, his thumb absentmindedly stroking yours. it scared you. 

you withdraw your hand, pushing your chair a little further from his, the scrape of it dissonant in your ears. "so, uh, i'll just wait downstairs for the taxi if you don't feel comfortable —" 

"taxi?" he looks at you, confused. 

"i…i should go now, right?" 

"i wasn't going to ask you to go," he says, his voice small. "i was…i was hoping we could talk." 

"talk?" you echo. after weeks of nothing? "now?"

"i mean, not right now-" he glances over at the clock, wincing. "but can you stay today?" 

there's a pause. you don't think you've ever been able to read him — you've spent days second-guessing every emotion you thought he had, the meaning behind each expression, whether he ever told the truth. but something about him like this makes you hesitate, made your breath catch in your throat. all the ways you've tried to learn how to be immune to his words and his touch slowly melting away, because that was your defense against the version of haechan you thought you knew before. 

"i'll understand if you say no," he says, quietly. "but i have things i need to say to you. please." 

you don't know what to do. 

"hyuckie?" 

you both turn. haechan's baby sister is waddling over, her fist clenched around her hair ties as the last remnants of the french braid unravel from her head. she sniffles. "it fell." 

haechan's eyes dart back to you quickly, before refocusing his attention away. "it's okay-" he soothes, taking the hair ties from her as he swipes the pad of his thumb on her cheek, brushing off the teardrops that have begun to spill from her lashes. his lips jut out into a pout, his head tilting to meet her gaze. "let's just tie it up and go to school, hm?"

"but i want it in a braid…"  

"i can't finish it in time," he says, gently, touching the strands of her hair. "i'm sorry. i promise, we'll do it next time, okay?" 

her lip wobbles. "but…"

"let me help," you say, suddenly. 

he turns, round eyes wide. "what?" 

"i'll do her hair. you still need to get her things right?" 

he nods, a little dazed. "really?" 

"i'll stay," you murmur, and you slip the hair ties from his loose fingers and sling them around your wrist. "i need to talk to you too." 

you can feel his eyes on you as he coaxes his sister towards you, the girl shyly hiding her face in your hands as you swiftly braid two pigtails down her back. he still watches you out of the corner of his eye as he packs her bag, noting the way you listen to her babble on about her days at the school, the way you help adjust the straps of her backpack onto her tiny frame.

he looks at you like he's never seen you before. you think you know the feeling. 

— 

the bed dips under his weight as he sits down. 

"hey," you hear him murmur, and you stir. his hair falls over his face, and he's changed out of his clothes, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perches on his dainty nose. it's foreign, and new…until he pushes back his hair boyishly with an open palm, flicking his head like a puppy after a swim, and the skip in your heartbeat feels all too familiar in your ribcage. 

"did you get her to school?" 

he nods. "i got us lunch too. and stopped to get groceries." studying your face, he leans in. "i didn't want to wake you up so soon. do you feel better?" 

you hum. the morning now seemed like just a dream — haechan and his sister, the breakfast sandwiches. he'd left to walk her to school, telling you to rest in his bed until he got home. now, late afternoon light seeps into the room through the open door, until haechan gets up to close it, once again sealing the room in cozy darkness. 

"may i…?" he lifts up the corner of the covers, and you nod, easing yourself to the side as he gets into bed, leaning up against the headboard, his eyes trained on his lap. you lay on your side, that same feeling — as if you couldn't reach out and touch him, as if he existed in a world of his own without you, slowly settling in your body like a familiar ache. 

but then there's a shift — and you can feel his gaze warm on your skin. you blink up at him, his pupils focused on yours, pools of the darkest molten brown sucking you into his world. he wets his lips with his tongue nervously, taking a shuddering breath. 

"y/n, i'm really sorry." 

your heart squeezes a little in your chest. "for?" 

"for what i said that night…when i thought…when you didn't show up." he takes another breath. "and for not trusting you, for going to your place after i...." his fists clench the fabrics of the sheets, twisting it in his hands. 

you bite your lip. "haechan —"

" — i'm not done." he swallows, voice dipping low. "you were right. i knew you wanted more, i always knew exactly when i hurt you. but i never tried…i never tried to change anything. i'm sorry." his hands reach towards yours for a second, but he hesitates, dropping them back on his lap. 

"what would you have changed?" you ask, softly.

"i could have stopped seeing you," he murmurs. 

you smile, sadly. "i'm not convinced that would have hurt any less." that was something you knew for sure. 

"and i don't think i could have stopped myself," he admits. 

"haechan," his eyes move to yours. "why did you invite me?" his breathing picks up, and you want desperately to comfort him, to curl up on his lap and soothe him, but you knew the both of you were afraid of what would happen if you touched. knew the possibility that you'd try to find answers in skin-on-skin, lips-on-lips, and the possibility that it would all be lost in translation again.  

"i'm sorry, –" he looks at you sadly. "i think i was just trying to get you to stay. i…" he chews on his lip, glasses sliding a little lower on his slender nose bridge as his head dips. "i regret what i said, but some of it was true. i don't know what i would have done, and i don't think i was ready for…for what you thought it was." 

you nod, cheek rubbing against soft sheets, thinking about what he said. "haechan, i don't regret not going. i only wished i'd done it intentionally." 

"yeah?" he whispers. the sound sticks in his throat. 

"if you hadn't found me yesterday…would you still have looked for me? talked to me? i'm not hurt that you didn't find me sooner-" you cut in, when you see the guilt on his features, the parting of his lips in apology. "time apart….time apart was good. i needed it to clear my head. i….i couldn't stop myself around you." 

he doesn't say anything, for a while. "jaemin came over," he says, slowly. "and he said i couldn't talk to you or he would stop working with the band and it was decided for me." 

"he what?" 

haechan shakes his head. "i don't blame him. i'm not going to pretend that i couldn't have still talked to you if i really wanted to. i'm selfish enough to do that, i'll admit. i didn't reach out because i didn't know what to say, and i didn't know what i wanted." 

"and now?" 

he closes his eyes. "time apart was good," he murmurs, echoing your words. "it gave me a chance to go back to a time before." 

your breath catches. 

" — but i couldn't. i don't think i can take it any longer. i missed you, y/n. i miss you now, even as you're here." 

"you miss me?" 

something bothered you about it, hearing him say those words. when he'd pulled you away repeatedly in the weeks you've known each other, when he came for you time and time again, was that missing you too? were things different now? 

"i miss spending time with you," he says, almost timidly. "not just…not just sex. everything. i know it's selfish…" his eyes blink open, and he pushed his glasses up, avoiding your gaze. "i didn't mean to pressure you to come back. you can forget i said that." 

he shakes his head, trying to clear it. 

"i just wanted to tell you i'm sorry for hurting you." 

you'd never dared hope for a real apology from him. some part of you expected, or even secretly wished, he would find you again after that night, lie through his teeth to win you back. and in the weeks that followed, you took his silence to mean he didn't even care enough to do that.

and now here you were, sitting with him. after days and nights, he's had time to really mean his words — he wasn't himself, which is maybe why you believed he was telling the truth.

you think you know now, why he refused to let you in. why he hadn't wanted to take your first time, something so intimate and romantic that it would have pierced right through the layers he'd built up around himself. why he drew away so many nights when your touch lingered on each others' skin, when you wanted him to stay. 

"haechan," you say, quietly. "i need you to understand that i…that i've learned how to be hurt by you. i don't want to go back to how we were before." 

he nods, quickly. "of course." 

"and…you say you knew i wanted more. so you know that i wanted to be with you…romantically, right?" 

"i know." the words are so quiet, you barely catch them. 

"if…if i come back, i don't think i want that anymore." you say, gentle, but firm. jaemin was right — you couldn't let yourself forget all the ways he hurt you. "i associate us with too much hurt. i can't trust you with my heart, can you understand that?" 

there's silence. he's nodding, but when his lips part, he's wordless. 

"haechan?" 

"i understand," he murmurs. "i'm…i didn't…" he breaks off, fiddling with the covers, lip caught in his teeth. "whatever happens next will only happen on your terms," he says, softly. "i only want to do what you want to do, okay?" 

your brow furrows. "but haechan, if you don't feel comfortable with something –" 

"i'm fine as long as you still want to see me," he whispers. 

"if you don't want to let me in, i won't push anymore." you realize you truly mean it when you make the offer out loud. even if it hurt to know that you may never see him like this again, you press on, jaemin's advice resurfacing in your mind again. "you don't owe me any more of yourself. if you want it to just be sex, we can do that – but you have to commit to it too. so no more getting jealous, or —"  

" – that's not possible." 

"you're not making any sense." you should've been hurt, but sitting here now — looking at him, the way he melts into his room, fuzzy at the edges, soft curves of his face, you can't feel any of it. finally, you're beginning to see that he's just as lost as you are. his head is still bowed low, taking in every word you say like a weight he carries upon him. 

"it's not possible because you already know me. you know enough of me that i couldn't perform with you in the crowd, can't be myself around you at a party. i can't stand there onstage, do things like eyefuck girls and play the guitar and pretend to be someone else, while feeling your eyes on me. you'd see right through me."

he sounds like he's on the verge of tears, his voice achy and raw. and as you look up at him, tears are smudging on his waterline, his cheeks glistening as he sniffles. 

"i said i'd be fine with anything," he breathes shakily, as he starts to cry, sharp inhales punctuating his words. "and i am, i really am. i-i'm not in the position to set terms. it's fine if you don't want to know me, but i can't pretend we're just strangers anymore. i won't be able to." 

words you'd said to him — you can't think i still want to know you, after everything. 

for a moment, you entertain the idea that you've hurt him too. 

"i don't think i can pretend either," you murmur. "i hated it when you pretended like you didn't know me. like you'd never seen me before." 

i'm s-sorry, he chokes, but the syllables scattered across his sobs. he claps a hand to his mouth as his breathing speeds up even more, tears wetting his shirt, achy sounds muffled against his palm. and finally you sit up, limbs still clumsy and heavy from sleep, and you wrap your arms around him, and arm slung over his chest, another around his waist, just like you wanted to all this time.

his breath shudders against your palms, warm body against your skin. you bury your face in his neck, breathe in the familiar smell of him that changed no matter who he was or whoever he was pretending to be, until his breathing slows and his sobs come to a shaky stop. 

"i missed you too, haechan," you breathe. he shakes his head. "i did-" you insist, but he shakes his head again, a hand coming to touch your arm on his waist, squeezing tight. 

"not haechan, donghyuck," he whispers. 

"donghyuck," you correct, stroking the side of his cheek lovingly, your fingertip stained with his tears. "i missed you." 

"i missed you too." he says it like the words are dangerous, hushed and quiet. "are you…are you really coming back to me?"

"do you think we can be friends?" you ask, tentatively. not lovers, not strangers. this was the only in-between you knew that could do justice to the ways you knew each other, the only way you could see yourself holding on to him now.

he looks at you for a long time, until you forget your question. his nose is tinted pink, his eyes still watery as he drowns in his thoughts. 

he swallows. "are you sure?" he asks, softly. "your first time being with someone…and it's not even a real relationship." 

"you're doing that thing again," you murmur. "where you tell me what's good for me. how i should do things." you soften when you look up, seeing the guilt in his face, as if he had been caught red-handed. "i'm asking you again," you say, slowly. "do you think we can be friends?" 

this time, he nods. "yeah," he murmurs. "friends who…"

you nod too, feeling your cheeks burn, and then you lean in — slotting your lips against his. 

for a second, he doesn't kiss you back, and your stomach swoops. 

but then his mouth is moving against yours, soft and gentle. a close-lipped kiss, just the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses together, your eyes slowly fluttering shut to focus on the feeling. and even though you'd just agreed — even though you were the one who suggested it, a part of you wondered if you could ever only want to be friends with lee donghyuck.  

—

you sit at the dinner table, and haechan's entire body aches with a longing that crests over him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his lungs. 

he recalls the way he'd felt earlier, walking back across the park from the kindergarten, stopping by the grocery store and wandering the brightly-lit aisles, turning over pasta sauce and soup stock in his hands. the knowledge that you were in his home, sleeping, that he would turn the key in the lock and you would be waiting for him — burned down his throat like alcohol, a bonfire in his stomach. it felt like playing pretend. he was afraid to even drive you back to your apartment, to walk you to your door, to look at you too long in the moments after. and yet here he was, tipsy off the sweetness of being able to come home to you. 

after the talk, neither of you had gone much further than kissing. 

"i missed you so much," he murmurs – his voice crumpling under the weight of his own words. 

"do you want to show me?" your tone is lightly teasing, dipping low as you keep your smile on your face. the warmth coursing through your body has nothing to do with the blankets pooling around your thighs, and everything to do with the boy sitting across from you — doll-like legs with miles of silky skin splayed out over the sheets, back slouching against the headboard, all crumpled in and soft and worn. 

if you had gone to the bar weeks ago, let him guide you to this home, to this bed, you might already be familiar with this soft mattress in a whole different way.  

neither of you can deny the way your minds wander there still, despite everything. him missing your body framed against his, you craving the sink of his chest, the curve of his waist.  

there's silence, as his words register in the boy's head, pain flickering over his features. if he was feeling more like himself, he would pulled you in, caged you under him. tugged at that side of you that was always so pliant and easy for him and watched you unravel under his fingertips. the words are on the tip of his tongue — i'll show you. did you miss me too? kiss me. stay with me.

instead, his fingers withdraw, and gently touch the soft cotton of his shirt's hem, warm light flickering in his eyes. "not like this," he murmurs quietly. "not…not now."

you let out a breath, tension dissipating. "yeah," you'd murmured. "you're right." 

you'd gone to take a shower while he prepared dinner. there was something terribly domestic about all of it — you padding into the living room again, each fiber of your being smelling so much like him. the way he turned from where he stood guarding the soup bubbling on the stove to see you in one of his shirts, a towel draped over your shoulders. the feelings he hadn't learned to pin down, hadn't had the time to sort, intensified in his chest, an ache lodged inside him. 

friends. he'd introduced you to his sister as his friend, watched you braid her hair and laugh with her softly, heard your sweet voice wishing her good luck with school. the nights he'd spent with you by his side — talking about the band, about his tattoos. asking about how he did during the show, seeking your praise, wanting to know so badly how he appeared in your eyes. the way you somehow reached right through him and made him listen, made him stop. was that friendship? 

now with all the plates cleared and washed, the sounds of your clothes tumbling in his washing machine in the background, the smell of black nail polish prickled his nose as you leaned over. your fingers brushing his, holding them in place. 

"should i make it a little messy?" your voice is light. 

"it's usually messy because i get my sister to do it," he tells you, softly. "you don't have to mimic how it looks." 

you nod, a small smile on your face as you dip the brush back in the bottle. there's silence, for a while, as he watches you, studying the way you look with your head bowed, feeling each careful touch of your fingers, and then — 

"do you want to talk about rules now?" 

you look up at him just briefly before going back to the task. he swallows. 

"sure." 

another pause. and then quietly, "you can't get jealous anymore, you know that right?" 

"i know," he murmurs. "you told me to stop before…but i didn't. i'm sorry." 

you nod. "you can't be possessive of me, either." 

he hesitates. "so…no marking?" 

slowly, you let go of his left hand. "you can still leave hickeys and bruises," you mumble. "just don't…don't call me yours you know?" 

he didn't know if he could do that. "okay," he says, softly. "i'll try." and then, slowly and carefully, he asks, "are you going to keep coming to our shows?" 

the slide drag of the brush on his nail stops. "do you want me to?" 

he bites his lip. "i want you there," he says, slowly. "but i don't know if i'll be okay with having you in the crowd." 

"oh." 

"maybe you can watch from backstage. or the wings. i want you to," he adds, when you look troubled. "please." 

"are we still a secret?" 

his lips part. he wanted to say yes — but it was the way you'd asked it, like it was something you feared, that made him hesitate.

"because," you continue. "it didn't feel good, keeping it from jaemin. and as i said, i hated it when you pretended we were strangers." 

he felt your hands leave his, capping the bottle of nail polish as you leaned back in your chair, tucking your knees to your chest. he keeps his hands splayed on the table, taking a deep breath.

"no more secrets," he agrees. "and stop going to those parties, y/n. if you want to see me, just tell me." 

you raise your eyebrows. "we're not exclusive," you point out, slowly. "i don't go to the parties just for you. haechan, if you don't think you can do this…" 

"i can," he says, hurriedly. "i'm sorry. if i see you at a party…i'll say you're my friend. i'm sorry, it's just that i…i'm just…."

"it's okay." giving him a small smile, you get to your feet, shuffling over to the kitchen. you don't hear him come closer as you fill up a glass of water on the kitchen, only know of his presence as his hand touches your shoulder carefully. 

"don't go," he murmurs. his arms slide around your body, gently pulling you towards him, and you turn slightly so you can see his face.

"i'm still here," you respond, softly. 

but he shakes his head. "don't go." 

you turn around in his arms and your lips brush, his own parting against yours, seeking permission. all the time he wonders when he'll stop kissing you like he's swearing an oath — devoted in the way he wraps his lips around yours, patient and true in the way his tongue moves against yours, and even now, something loving in the way he murmurs your name into the cavern of your mouth. his hands move carefully on your skin, nail polish still drying on his fingertips, and if either of you question the way you kiss, you keep it to yourselves. 

—

it's different, watching haechan perform, when he's not performing for you. 

you saw the way his eyes flitted through the crowd, making and breaking eye contact so fast it was hard to keep track of, each twitch of his expression rehearsed and calculated. a teasing part of his lips, sinful face fluttery and slack as the music crashed all around him, like he could physically feel it. he was right — you didn't see him the same. you knew it was the performance, that he was really the one trying to please the crowd, riding off the pleasure of attention. but despite seeing through it as he had said, it still had you feeling tightly wound inside, pressure building up inside you, a craving for his touch intensifying with each time his hips shifted against his guitar. 

and even worse was the way your heartbeat would trip over itself every time haechan's eyes flickered over to you. never during a song, but in the moments between — mark's voice speaking through the mic, the rest of the boys checking on their instruments or interacting with the crowd. he would look over at you briefly, almost shyly, his heart-shaped lips creasing into a smile. 

"friends?" 

the moment you'd arrived home, you had pleaded with jaemin not to be upset with haechan, but it turned out you didn't need to. haechan had left a message the night of the party, and when you'd walked in looking more well rested and collected than you'd had in days, jaemin knew that you had been safe. you'd reassured him too, when he asked if keeping you from him only made things worse. both of you had needed that time to come to this conclusion. only time would tell if it was the right one. 

"so you're going to be friends with benefits?" jaemin raised his eyebrows. "was this his idea or yours?" 

"mine," you mumble. feeling the need to defend yourself, you raise your voice just slightly. "i just think that…i want to keep seeing him, and i want to get to know him…but i don't want him in that way. anymore," you add, when jaemin bites his lip.

"did you really lose feelings, or are you just not ready?" he asks, quietly. 

you force a laugh out of your chest. "you think i'd still have feelings for someone who hurt me that much?" you try to say it sarcastically, but you don't have the heart to. the words have no bite, and instead truth echoes in the spaces between.

"that's not the worst thing in the world, y/n." his voice is steady, and calm. "it's okay to take your time. if you remember that lying to yourself will only hurt more." 

but there are things to soothe the ache. 

"did you like the show?" 

haechan roughly tugs off his jacket, letting it slump off his shoulders and onto the floor. the moment the last song ended he'd rushed off stage and right to you, eyes blazing under his heavy makeup, the both of you stumbling into one of the small storerooms backstage. 

a single small lightbulb barely illuminates the small space, bathing you in warm light and shadow. shelves of boxes line most of the walls, except for a sliver of space that currently presses against your back, your fingers touching the cold surface. 

"it was good," you murmur. 

"yeah?" 

he's still hungry for more. you can see it in his eyes — for all his good girls and you're perfect, you knew he craved to be adored too. 

"you were right," you say, softly. "it feels different, watching as your friend." 

his smile falters.

"i…i like it more," you continue. "being in the wings…makes me want to get your attention." 

"you have my attention now, princess," he points out. he touches a hand to your waist. 

it's almost scary, how you slip back into old patterns. a heady rush filling your senses, slowly dragging you under. this is why i couldn't stop, you think, as he leans in ever closer, his eyes glazed over as his gaze slides to your lips. 

there's a beat. 

"i forgot to ask," he mumbles. "no possessiveness right?" 

your mind clears, just a bit. you nod, breathlessly. 

"what else?" he asks. looking at you, timidly, he asks. "can i…are pet names okay? can i still call you baby?" 

"baby's fine," you whisper. 

"princess?" 

"hmm?"

"no," he smiles fondly at you. "i was asking if calling you princess was okay." 

you want to bury your face in your hands. or his chest. "princess is fine." 

his smile grows wider, before he suddenly turns serious again. "are we starting anew?" he asks, hesitantly. "can i…can i bring up things from before? or are we pretending that this is our first time…" 

"no more pretending," you murmur, feeling like a hypocrite. "why? did you want to bring up something?"

"kind of," he nods towards the door. "just thought you're going to love this," he says, slyly. "hearing stage crew and bandmates walking by, knowing that at any point someone could hear us, someone could come in…"

and now you do bury your face in your hands, and when he reaches around to hug you, you lean against his chest, feeling his laugh vibrate against you, feeling you with warmth. 

"it's okay," he murmurs, as his hands slide down to squeeze your waist. "i won't play with them this time, baby. today's all about you, hm?" 

his hands falter, perhaps realizing the words were too tender, a little too loving for what you both claimed this would be. 

"lets try not to do anything…romantic?" you mumble. 

you regret the words as soon as you say them, your teeth biting into your lip sharply. 

haechan's face has shuttered down. you can't read his expression, as he nods, taking your hands in his and kissing them. 

"please." you look at him, this time taking the dive, feeling yourself free-falling towards that familiar desire, letting the current swallow you whole. "i need you." 

in spite of everything, haechan's lips are as gentle as they've always been. 

his lips brush yours, once, twice, before he locks in his kiss, hands trembling slightly as he touches the side of your face, cups you in his palms. you want to ask him what's wrong, pulling away slightly, but he makes a wounded sound from the back of his throat, pressing you against the wall, his head dipping to kiss you fiercely. his tongue slides against yours, and he groans low against your lips. 

your hands fumble on his shirt, skimming his broad shoulders, strong arms. he pants into your mouth when your drag your nails down his chest, breaking away. tugging his shirt roughly over his head, he grabs your hands and places them on his chest before leaning in to kiss you again, this time working his way down your neck, his wet kisses making your body shudder as you cling onto him for support. 

"please," you murmur, wondering why he was staying so silent. "please-" 

but he shakes his head, fingers tracing your jaw, tilting your head up so he lap his tongue over a newly formed bruise. the room is silent save for the sound of his lips, but you crave his voice, his words guiding you through everything, the lilting cadence of it. 

"haechan-" a foreign feeling spikes in your stomach as he ignores you, continuing to kiss his way down to your collarbones, fingers tugging your collar wide open. it felt like he wasn't there at all. 

he breathes heavy against your skin as he curls his hands around your hips, holding on tight. still he doesn't say a word, or even make a sound, as his caress the back of your thighs.

"stop-" you blurt out. roughly, you take his hands in yours, gripping them by the wrists. 

he lifts his head. 

"haechan," you start, but he just looks at you. your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. 

"haechan, you're scaring me." your voice is panicked and tight, the tension so overwhelming that tears begin to blur your vision, your chest rising and falling faster. 

"baby?" he asks, alarmed. "what's wrong?" 

"please talk to me," you beg, wiping away the tears on your cheek. the ache has soothed slightly at his voice, but you need more. "why…why aren't you talking? you always…you always used to-" 

"i'm sorry," he whispers, pulling your body into his, wrapping his bare arms around you. "i'm here," he soothes, in your ear. "i'm here," he mumbles again, and again, until your breathing calms down. 

"i'm sorry," he repeats, kissing you softly. "i'm here now, baby, okay?" 

you nod, and now you guide his hands to your thighs, feel the way his breathing hitches.

"can i…?" 

"please," you say, breathlessly, and his hand cups your warm core. 

"fuck," he blurts out. you were so warm, the seat of your panties completely soaked through. he slides them to the side with nimble fingers, inhaling sharply as he strokes your folds. 

"how are you so wet? fuck-" 

"take them off," you plead, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your skin. immediately, he tugs your panties and skirt down roughly, almost frustrated, barely waiting for you to step out of them before encouraging you to spread your legs wider as he strokes you, fingers dipping to catch at your entrance, your swollen clit. 

"so fucking wet," he marvels, groaning slightly as he swipes his fingers softly . 

"from watching you perform," you say, softly. 

the words send pleasure thrumming low in his navel. "yeah?" he murmurs, eyes meeting yours. 

slowly, he drops to his knees, and suddenly you feel hypersensitive — his breath on your thighs, hands gripping you tightly. he suckles a kiss close to your core, and you whine, loudly, the sound too loud in the small space. 

he looks up at you, sultry eyes framed in dark eyeliner. "let me hear you, baby," he coaxes, easing your legs open. he sticks out the tip of his tongue, and gives your clit a gentle flick, your hips bucking into his face before you can stop yourself. "i've been dreaming about this," he sighs, before he closes in and suckles on your clit. 

he lapped at you like all he'd done in your days apart was think about how best to do it — alternating between suckling on your clit, licking your folds with his tongue wide and flat, and prodding at your entrance. one hand keeping you pressed against the wall, his other slips around your entrance, sliding in one long finger, the way your walls suck him in making him moan, vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. you can feel the jut of his finger joints, the pad of his finger curling against your walls, while his tongue focuses on your clit, drawing shapes and letters expertly. 

you slump further against the wall, the pleasure making your legs shake, unable to hold yourself up, your hands tangled in his hair, knotting them around your fingers. 

"i can't stand-" you're cut off by a moan, as he bites into your thigh, licking up the wetness that stains them, a mix of your arousal and his saliva. "please," you wish you were on a bed, wish both of you had had more patience to go somewhere and do this right, feel the whole weight of his body on yours. 

"cum," he pants, sucking on your clit with his plush lips as he coaxes another finger into your warm, now mimicking a vibrating motion with his hand as he pushes in hard and fast. he doesn't break away even as he moans out, now curling his fingers languidly against your walls. "fuck, baby, i need you to cum now because i can't wait any longer-" 

his tongue presses onto your clit, and the pressure pushes you overboard. his hand the only thing keeping you upright, pushing roughly into you, he eats you out until your orgasm is over, kitten licking your clit as his head moves this way and that. you open your eyes and see him staring right at you, desire pulsing in his pupils, eyes blown out and dark. 

"good?" he breathes, both hands now gripping you tight. you nod, swallowing and gasping. his face is smeared with you, mouth and nose shining and glossy. he licks around his lips, mouth hanging open as his eyes glint. 

"more?" he asks, and you nod, gasping, falling to your knees. now, you're finally able to touch him, as your body crashes into his, causing him to nearly tip over from how he kneels, sitting back on his ankles to draw you into him. you kiss him deeply, letting his lips wrap around your tongue just the way you loved it, feel his hum vibrate against your own chest. 

his hands ghost under your shirt, and you help him pull it off, his hands cupping your breasts with his familiar touch, sucking kisses down your cleavage as you gasp for air. his hands roam your body indulgently, as if he was afraid you'd dissolve if he wasn't mapping your skin with his palms, his tongue, his lips. one hand trailing up and down your back, unclasping your bra, while the other squeezes the back of your thighs, resting his hand on your ass. 

he suckles on your nipples like he had all the time in the world, as if you weren't in a cramped store room feeling as if you were about to explode from his touch alone. gentle tongue drawing circles around the bud, eyes staring up at yours with devotion. your hips move against his, and his eyes flutter shut as he sighs, his hips starting to grind up against you as well. 

"turn around," he mumbles. "now, princess." 

"i want to see you," you protest, hands gripping onto his arms as he slowly walks forward on his knees, pushing you towards the wall. 

"i'm sorry, baby-" he kisses you, placatory and sweet. "we'll go again in my bedroom later, okay? need you like this now."

you let him maneuver you until you're facing the wall, legs spread apart as he kneels in between. trying to soothe you, he rubs a hand over your stomach, reminding you of his presence the entire time he rids himself of his jeans and underwear, rolling on a condom, tension building with every small sound, until you can feel something thick and heavy press between your legs. 

"haechan-" you pant, your back arching just slightly as you lean towards the wall for support, feeling his hand squeeze your hip. 

"i know," he mumbles, making slight shushing sounds as he eases himself against you. "i know, baby." 

even though he was behind you, you knew the face he would make as you felt his tip slowly push past your entrance, the way his eyebrows would float upwards as his eyes went unfocused, lips parting in a lovely 'ah- ah' that he tried hard to contain behind hisses and bitten lips. part of you still wants to see it, but all thoughts are lost as he fully sheaths himself into you, feeling him deep inside from the position. his hand on your hip creeps over to your navel, and he pushes gently over where he was buried inside you, the pressure somehow intensifying as you feel full from all sides. 

slowly, his body presses you further into the wall, and you gasp as the cool surface brushes your chest. he kisses the nape of your neck, and your body trembles, shifting against him and whining as you clench around him from sensitivity. behind you, haechan mumbles out a string of curses, hips jolting forward unsteadily before he stops himself. 

"please move," you whisper, and he moans, finally thrusting into you. he finds a rhythm that's slow and deep, feeling full and stretched out each time you throb around him. a particularly harsh thrust has you whining, your hips tilting towards the wall, trying to get away, but suddenly the solid weight of his body presses against you ever harsher as he rolls his hips, his chest pressed to your back. he feels stronger, and sturdier than he ever did before, as a hand creeps down to your clit and begins to rub slow and lazy circles, his body attuned to yours. you jolt away from the simulation, ass suddenly jolting back against his length, making you cry out again, sandwiched between pleasure. 

"don't run from it," he coaxes. "just take it, hm?" 

you had nowhere to go as he fucks himself into you, wet sounds filling the small space, and you're sure the floor is wet with your arousal, can feel your next climax approaching fast, making you forget about the ache in your knees and in the way your head pressed against the hard wall. you begin to shake in his hold, trying to fuck yourself back on his cock while he bullies your clit relentlessly, but once again his chest presses into you, strong arms holding you firmly in place as he overflows your body with pleasure, a hand slowly grasping yours and squeezing.

"i missed you, baby," he says, quietly, voice surprisingly steady despite the way he was ramming into you. "i really missed you." his lips brush the shell of your ear. 

you cum unexpectedly, crying out, squeezing tight around him as all the muscles in your body tense. your hand squeezes tight around his as the other rubs quick circles on your clit, working you through your orgasm. you can feel him still behind you as he cums too, whining in a pitch and tone you'd never heard from him before, desperate and achy as you clench around him again from the sound, so sensual that it rekindles a fire inside you despite the soreness in all your limbs. 

your weak hands fumble against him, scrabbling against his strong grip. he pulls out with a hiss, helping you turn around to face him. in the semi-darkness, you can see the concern pooling in his eyes, bright and scared. 

"was it too rough?" he asks, breathlessly. his hands skim your frame, pulling you onto his lap. 

you shake your head, nuzzling into him. you're torn between watching that silvery glow in his eyes, makeup smudged around all his corners, and burying yourself deep inside his chest until you can feel his heartbeat on your cheek. 

"baby? are you alright?" he rubs gentle circles on your back, as you nod. "use your words, please," he says, softly. 

"you got stronger," you blurt out. 

"did i hurt you?" he moves against you, something protective in the way he holds you that makes your body sing with warmth. 

"no," you say shyly. "i loved it." 

you lift your head just quick enough to catch the way his face crumples. before you can ask, he leans in and he's kissing you again — soft, gentle, sweet and almost shy. when you part, he looks dazed, eyes drifting down to your lips and wandering back up to your eyes. 

"you deserve better," he says, quietly. 

he looks down, at the way you're sitting in his lap, and then tilts his head sharply to look around the store room, as if he meant you deserved better than this for your first time back with him. as if this was about sex at all. 

you take a deep breath, and shake your head. "haechan, you're exactly what i deserve." 

the name rings out in the space. it seems to ground him, and he shakes his head to clear it, slowly untangling himself from you as he gets ready to help you up. 

you swallow. "take me home," you tell him. "take care of me." 

he does exactly as you say. 

—

attention simmers on your skin, a palpable heat you're unable to shake. 

girls circle the kitchen island like sharks, eyes glinting under the fluorescent lights, but they're never able to come close as it's so clear haechan's focus is entirely on you. haechan's back is turned to the party as he sits on the counter, long legs spilling over and the muscles in his thick thighs accentuated by the way he sits, denim stretched tight and each gaping hole making you doubt your decision to come to the party here, instead of going over to his home. 

it was his party, and he should go. the fans would be upset if he didn't at least show. now you were seriously regretting it, as you ducked your head to avoid the glare of another crowd as they passed by, while haechan knocked back another drink. 

he had been alight with energy ever since the show ended — agreeing amiably when you suggested going to the party, his smile only wavering when you reminded him he couldn't get jealous. and while your eyes wandered around the party, drinking in the scenes you hadn't seen in awhile, he was doing everything in his power to keep your attention on him, camera strap hanging from his neck as he clicked through the photos, pointing out the parts where jaemin had helped him, explaining the stories behind the pictures. 

"i didn't know you were into photography." it's a stupid statement, that you want to retract immediately. of course you didn't – you didn't know much about him at all. but it makes him smile a little proudly, clicking on the dial to speed through the photos. 

"yeah well, i've never taken a photo of you." he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. "i know for sure because when we…you know…when we weren't seeing each other, and i missed you…" his cheeks are burning up, his mouth barely moving as he tries to fumble through the rest of the sentence, plush lips swallowing his words. "i couldn't find any photos of you. on my camera or in my phone or…" he trails off. 

your heart thrums harder in your chest. "yeah?" 

"do…do you have photos of me?" he asks. timidly, softly. his eyes trained on his camera, unseeing, breath held in his chest waiting for your answer.

"of course i do," you murmur. you hope he can hear the smile in your voice, know that it's for him.  "rockstar." 

his fingers twitch, and he looks up at you, a searing intensity in his eyes that wasn't there before, flames licking at your cheeks as you hold his gaze, a warmth that sparks down your spine like fireworks. the sounds of the party fade away, sealing you in the vacuum of his attention.

"y/n,"  his voice drops an octave, all the softness drained out of it. 

"haechan?" 

"let me take a photo of you," he murmurs. "please." 

"now?" 

"no, not now," he says, slowly. "you know what i mean, princess." 

but you never get to clarify, because someone taps you lightly on the shoulder. haechan's eyes flicker behind you, all the intensity faded out, and it feels like your lungs fill with air again as you turn to see jisung, holding two cups in his hands, one of which he's holding out to you. 

you're torn between crushing guilt, and relief that he doesn't hate you. 

"j-jisung," you splutter. "jisung, hi." 

"hi, y/n." he smiles, nudging the cup towards you again, and you take it. almost against your will, your eyes dart over to haechan, but his face is impassive and neutral, camera laying forgotten on his lap as he turns quickly to survey the party behind him. was he trying to offer you privacy, or was he upset? 

you sip from the drink, trying not to make a face at the overwhelming sweetness that floods your tastebuds. the boy had barely put any alcohol in it. your hand almost inches towards the cup haechan made for you, wanting to balance out the taste, before you stop yourself. 

you didn't want to hurt his feelings again. 

"it's been a while," you say, sheepishly. "and again, i'm really sorry about last time."

"it's okay," he says, cheerfully. "haechan already apologised. besides, you can make it up to me on our date."

jisung's words have a physical effect on haechan. you feel him tense up behind you, body going stiff as he turns back to watch you, eyes trained on the side of your face. 

"you still owe me a date." you don't know if it's determination, or sheer recklessness, that inspired jisung to say this to you as you stood in the kitchen with haechan just inches away, the side of his thigh still brushing your waist. "are you free tomorrow night?" 

you try your best not to look at haechan. he had no right to care, you didn't owe him anything. you didn't know what you wanted to see on his face either way — whether his jealousy would make you angry, whether his sadness would hurt you instead. 

"i am," you agree, hesitantly, and jisung's close-lipped smile blooms. 

—

"you know there are other boys out there right? that there's a world beyond the band?" 

"shut up, jaemin," you mumble, checking your reflection in the dressing room mirror one last time. 

"this is good for you." his tone has changed, as he leans against the locked door. "jisung is nice. i hope it works out." 

tonight's show had been different. jaemin had reluctantly confirmed that it wasn't just your imagination — the way haechan was quieter throughout, more self-conscious in his performance, eyes barely scanning the crowd, taking longer glances at you throughout the show. jisung's confidence, on the other hand, poured off him in waves, his jacket unzipped, gums showing as he smiled wide. 

"i know." you sling your bag across your body, adjusting your skirt, as you turn to face him, taking a deep breath. "i'm really giving him a chance, jaemin. i'm…i'm taking this seriously, even if you don't believe me." it wasn't a lie. you barely knew anything about jisung, and jisung barely knew anything about you — but he was always sincere and sweet, quietly brave under his shyness. you couldn't forget the way he looked at you even with haechan by your side. it made you want to give him a chance too.

"i believe you," he reassures. "good luck, okay?" the door unlatches with a small click, and he gives you one last wave before heading out into the corridor. 

your eyes dart back to your reflection one last time before you turn back, satisfied with your appearance, and start towards the door. you barely take a step before there's a creak, and you think it's jaemin coming back, or perhaps jisung, wondering why you took so long. 

but of course, things are never easy. 

a familiar face enters the room, pushing the door open wide. he doesn't bother to close it, just takes you in for a second — eyes sweeping your frame, taking in your jewelry, the hints of makeup on your skin, your clothes, your neat hair. dejavu crawls over your skin, remembering the first time you'd met jisung, the way haechan had cornered you in the dressing room after, too. you tense your shoulders, preparing for the fight. 

"you look nice," he says, quietly. 

your lips part. "haechan-" 

but before you can speak, he's blurting out his next words. "j-jisung's going to love it," he stammers out, shadows flickering in his gaze as he swallows, throat bobbing. "i… i just came here to say good luck." at your surprised expression, his lips curve up into a sad smile. "that…that's what friends do, right?" 

"yeah." your hands grip onto the sling of your bag tightly, afraid of what your hands would do if you let go. 

"i'm going to go now," he mumbles. "i…have fun, y/n." 

there isn't a trace of sarcasm in his tone, his eyes soft and fond. he leaves before you can say another word, not closing the door behind him. you can hear his boots all the way down the corridor, can hear him disappear up the stairs. 

you try not to think about his voice, as you take the back exit out of the venue, see jisung standing in the warm summer night, smiling under a streetlight. try not to dwell on the fact that haechan might have actually wished the best for you – no more layers of pretense under pretense, no more feelings without reason. 

it's easier said than done.

—

two hours pass, your food gone from your plates, only the dregs of your drinks left in their glasses, before jisung finally clears his throat. 

"this isn't working out, is it?" 

"i'm sorry," you say, biting your lip. you'd walked to see a movie, something jisung had picked out, but had been mind-numbingly dull to you. you settled to watch his reactions instead, the way his hands flew over his eyes at the more intense scenes, the way he bit down on his fingers when the tension spiked. it was cute, but less so when he started asking you questions about the movie, and you had to admit you didn't remember any part of the plot past the first 20 minutes. 

late night dinner hadn't been better, each topic running itself to the ground quickly, your opinions and lack of opinions causing each conversation to crash to an uncomfortable halt. good things take time, had been jaemin's text to you when you asked for help. you were sure that jisung and you weren't acting like your true selves, the prospect of the date altering the way you talked and responded to each other, until you'd finally come to the conclusion that perhaps you just weren't compatible. 

"i really thought this would work out," jisung says, a tinge of sadness coloring his words. 

"i wanted it to," you confess. selfishly, you had almost been excited at the prospect of things working out with jisung — needing confirmation that you could still feel for others. excited for the date leading to the next, to fall in love with surety. 

excited to find the first relationship, the first 'you and i' that haechan seemed to think you deserved. 

"it's okay," jisung reaches out, pats your hand clumsily, shyly, as if surprised that reaching towards you meant he actually got to touch you  "i didn't know much about you when i asked you out, anyway. just thought you were really pretty." he looks mortified again, and it makes you laugh — everything about him still endearing.

"do you want to just be friends?" you ask, gently. 

it's like a weight lifts from the conversation, and he sighs, relieved. "yeah," he echoes. "friends." 

the silence that follows is a lot more peaceful. jisung slumps slightly in his seat, like the tension has left his body. his deep voice somehow still manages to sound timid when he speaks up next. 

"since we're friends…" 

you nod, encouragingly, taking a last sip of your drink. 

"can i ask…do you like haechan?" 

you nearly choke. jisung was looking at you carefully, although he smiled at the expression on your face. 

"a-are you sure you want to talk about this?' you stammer. 

he shrugs, but there's something unreadable in his expression. "i'll always be curious about it, and i guess this is my chance to ask." 

you don't have the heart to answer him directly. 

"i…i used to," you say, slowly. "but that was when i didn't know him." 

"know him?" he asks, confused. 

you nod. "yeah. i didn't really know him as a person….just…knew the performance, i guess." 

jisung still looks confused, but he nods along. "well, do you know him now?" 

you think of the sunlight in his living room. the faint dimple on his cheek as he showed you a photo of his sister running towards the camera, her face alight as she called out for her big brother. his arms around you in the kitchen, as he asked you to stay. the slope of his neck as he turns towards you at the end of a song — the fading sound of his guitar as his eyes sought yours. 

"maybe," you say, softly. 

"and?" jisung prompts. "could you like him now?" 

you don't answer him aloud, but your unspoken words ring in your head. 

—

it's different this time, haechan tells himself, as he grips his phone in his hands. 

it's different this time, because he knew where you were. he knew why you weren't calling. 

he slumps back against his bed, his body heavy with alcohol but his mind racing wild, each thought outpacing the next. 

the apartment was silent and empty. both jeno and mark were gone for the night. haechan hadn't bothered to go to the party, knowing that he would feel jisung's absence like a pain lodged in his ribs. he wonders if jisung will bring you home, here, whether you'd let him, even if he knew jisung wasn't the type of boy to go further than hand-holding on the first date. he thinks of it anyway — of hearing your sounds through his bedroom wall. whether it would make you needier to know haechan was listening. 

he feels like a loser. he's never felt more uncomfortable in his own skin, more unclean, more ashamed. but then again, there's no one around to know, as he lets his mind wander a little farther, away from you and jisung, away from his phone, sinking deep into the last time he'd touched your skin, images and sensations jumping out eagerly at him when he closed his eyes. flicks through moments that caused a heat to lick down his spine, the familiar hum of pleasure buzzing low in his navel — your legs on his shoulders, your hands in his hair. your taste, the patterns he would draw on your body so you'd shake just the way he liked, the spot on your neck he could kitten-lick to feel you tense up all around him. 

that night, even after he'd fucked you in the store room, you had been insatiable. 

he'd tried to touch you like the other girls he used to play with — never speaking much, preferring to use his mouth for other things, let their own imaginations run wild with what he could be thinking behind his hooded eyes. he'd taken you with your face turned away from him, pleasure without intimacy, sucking bruises as a keepsake for you after the night ended, not as if you were his to keep or to lose. 

let's try not to do anything romantic. 

but then you'd begged him to talk to you. told him to take you home. he'd hated it — hated the way you folded for him, like someone had given him powers he couldn't help abuse. do you know how tender this is for me? he'd wanted to ask, as he was touching you again in his sheets back home, racing to meet your every demand before you asked for it. 

your legs parted for him as he entered you, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure to watch your every expression, the look he'd been dying to see — your eyelashes fluttering, lips parted silently, the sharp gasp as he found your soft spot, your hands scrabbling against his skin. he held your gaze even as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, ankles locked in a sweetheart's cross behind him as he pushed your legs even higher, letting him in deeper. he'd never imagined himself with anyone like this before — a position so full of love and closeness, feeling your body and ripple against his, leaning in to kiss your lips softly, kiss away your desperation. 

he'd almost gone crazy when you found your voice amidst all the pleasure. 

"donghyuck," you'd breathed, saying the name like a prayer. "feels so good." 

he had stilled, slowing to a stop, even though he was painfully hard in you. his heart racing in his chest, pounding so hard he felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.

"you," you mumbled, slowly grinding your hips against him. "you make me feel so good, 's like no one else-"  

"yeah?" he picks up the pace again, tilting your body at an angle now so he could go even deeper, watches the way your face changes. he was the one who pulled that sound from your chest — sated but desperate at the same time, needy but satisfied. "i make you feel this good, right? i'm good for you, everything's for you-" he babbled, not making sense to even himself, your praise burying itself deep inside him like a siren song. 

you'd choked out more praises, pretty words tumbling from your parted lips, your eyes never leaving his. 

"more, hyuck-" you pulled at him, nails scratching down his back. "hyuck-" 

it's like he can hear your voice, as his hand slides down to his hip, down to his leaking cock. 

he jerks himself off like that — to the images of you pressed under him, your voice calling his name. he does it fast, with no finesse — tugging roughly, the slide too dry, but he doesn't care about drawing out the pleasure, doesn't think it matters if you're not here with him. 

he feels even filthier after he finishes — peeling off his soiled shirt, as he stumbles to the bathroom. he knows he won't hear from you tonight, that you wouldn't do that to jisung, but still he keeps his phone unlocked with the ringer on next to his bed as he lays down again. 

maybe he would wake up, and you would tell him he could never see you or touch you again. his mind wanders in another direction now, away from your body, away from pleasure — to the ways you made his heart squeeze tight in his chest. when you said his name. when you'd comforted him as he was crying, the kindness in your eyes despite all the ways he hurt you. sitting on the kitchen counter, thinking of ways to keep you with him as your eyes wandered off. look at me, he'd wanted to beg. think of me. just me. 

he goes to sleep thinking about how this could be the last night before you'd really only exist in memory and fantasy, before everything changes.

@neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @makiswrld @itskkung @simpforarmihn @aryraaaa @rbf-aceu @laubyrinthine @yujuvly @nctevia @hyuckenjoyer @guhhfgbbj @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @kasperneo @eneiyri @toroufriteh @cauliephays @jisoung @niinjo @wonaoi @yuskitty @strawbabyz @readingisgodly @daegalfangirl @minkyuncutie @feat-sun @chaoticstrawberryland @shawnyle @sofix-hc7 @scftharu @spageddy @adorejaehyn @manooffline @02mrk @tyongspice1 @runahways @neosdaisy @hotmessexpress35

[resting-meme-face]

Ask meme chibnall as show runner

Bro, the singularity of his vision is really admirable, especially in this day and age of Twitter and fucking shows-run-by-a-digital-committee bullshit. He really did just say, “Aight, I’m not going to have any old monsters in my first season at all, just invent new ones, and then I’m going to do what I’ve always wanted to do with ‘canon’ because I own this shit now, and I can.” Like, I think a lot of us fan creators like to joke about what we’d do if we were showrunner, but as much as I talk big talk, I’d just be trying to get people to like and validate me. Deadass do not think Chibs cares. And I know people wail and whine about this, but a show will always die if the showrunners are beholden to the fandom as a gestalt entity. I’ve seen it happen time and again in fandoms I’ve been in. Full on “lunatics are taking over the asylum” thing. Pardon my ableism.

Also, people talk shit about his writing, but there’s this thing he does that I love, where he just takes little details and uses them to very quickly flesh out the person and the place we’ve been thrown in with. This works really well in Doctor Who, since it changes every week, basically. Like, probably the best example of this is the very beginning of Series 1 of Broadchurch, where within 5 minutes, you’ve got a total vibe for the city, a general vibe for each of the characters, and you’ve also been introduced to everyone you’re going to love, hate, and suspect of having committed a horrible murder for the next couple of months.

I think he’s actually really good at character work, even though a lot of people disagree. He just has this very sparse style that leans into traditional TV shortcuts, that’s a bit, “Okay, we know how that person is now, because of x, y, z. Now keep ahold of that, and follow me over here,” so a lot of people are like, “Wait, do we know anything about person at all? I don’t remember what happened last series. Where are we going?” And I do think it’s reflective of an approach to television that many would consider dated, but a) it works, and b) we’re obsessed with a show that started in 1963, I think we can deal with some more old-fashioned storytelling strats. 

He has a really admirable commitment to inclusivity and color-blind casting. Has made a concerted effort to get more diversity behind the camera too (although he needs more, my god does he need more, some of your color-blind casting decisions have been fucking terrible, man, you gotta stop killing all these black people, my dude. I knew the guy in Revolution of the Daleks was dead the moment he said his mom was sick).

He seems to really listen to his actors and fellow writers. That’s awesome.

I actually like Chibnall a lot, honestly. I get he has flaws, but a lot of the quality stuff people harp on about sort of flies over my head. I think Steven Moffat is a fucking auteur of a writer, so holding Doctor Who up to that standard constantly is absurd to me, but I honestly don’t see a huge difference between Who under Chibnall and Who under a lot of other writers and showrunners, including RTD.

Give me a topic and instead of the usual hyper-negative “hot takes” people usually drop about it, I’ll talk about positive, unusual “hot takes” instead.

[normal-thoughts-official]

I would have loved to see more interactions with the seelies- people who can’t lie but are crafty and secretive sounds fascinating. Think of the dialog! Alec going to magnus for advice since he has centuries of experience talking to them, Alec playing mental chess while trying to maintain peace. Would have loved getting more- but let’s be real, Cassaundra and the show writers weren’t clever enough to actually make any conversations like that of value.

SAME!!!!! honestly i would have loved to see so much more of the seelies. like bro do you understand that their culture predates the VERY EXISTENCE OF HUMANITY??? they are the ONLY kind of downworlders whose culture is completely detached from any human culture, not only because of predating it, but also because of the relative isolationism - which means human culture barely had any influence on their culture and history AS it developed

so like you can literally go fucking bonkers??????????? you can make ANYTHING. they have a whole ass society that doesn't have to have ANY ties to mundane concepts or history AT ALL. complete creative freedom. you could do ANYTHING! and don't get me started on the potential this has, within storytelling, to contextualize a lot of stuff modern western culture sees as natural or timeless as actually pretty fucking specific - like monogamy, cisheteropatriarchy, the gender binary, racism. all immortals have that potential of course since they can come from an array of different cultural and historical backgrounds but seelies in particular have SO much potential that is NEVER! FUCKING! USED! it all goes to waste and they are just a generic vaguely monarchic society that behaves literally exactly as modern western cultural standards. WHY. i'll never stop being salty, especially within sh where all this potential was there and instead they just villainized the seelies like no tomorrow for nO FUCKING REASON, and included a whole plotline about their ruler being a terrible power-hungry person and then proceeded to act as if that would have no influence on the seelies under her rule? thanks for nothing

like i know the seelie queen was so badly written that her own motivations even as a power-hungry wacko didn't make sense or were consistent (like why give simon the mark of cain for example, and for god's sake what kind of power-hungry crazy bitch gives their main enemy the power to literally kill her and destroy everything she has at the blink of an eye, like??? she literally tried to assist in her own genocide, it makes no fucking sense, i fucking hate it here) but if they are going to make her Terrible the least they could do was show how that impacted the people under her rule, especially if they are going to have meliorn be fucking tortured and either forced to display the marks of said torture or choosing to display them themself, like? please give your plotlines one singular thought

but of course it's easier to villainize seelies and reduce them to their obviously tyrannical ruler so they can go back to focusing on the shadowhunters and their issues. nevermind the fact that seelies are obviously equivalent to native ppls/third world countries resisting colonialism/imperialism in sh's stupid ass racial metaphor, which makes making their ruler a big bad unequivocally evil villain that is ruining everything A Choice. and a particularly choicy Choice considering they cast a middle-eastern man to play the most important seelie character. but if they are going to do that they could at least address how the people under her rule suffer and how that's a direct consequence of shadowhunter colonialism and interference, but why would we fkcnig thdo that!!!! when we can have love triangle drama or whatever

and tHEN there is the whole aspect of being unable to lie which is bound to have such an impact on their culture and history since they have to rely on other forms of communication to protect themselves - and considering the whole "tyrannical rule" plotline, to further the queen's agenda in the first place. and how telling the truth without preamble would probably be considered a huge display of trust in a society that has culturally developed so many ways of talking around things. like again the potential of the cultural and historic background for that society! it makes me go insane!!!

anyway all of that to say #JusticeForSeelies and #SeeliePlotlinesNow 2021 and forever. and YES i would have loved to see more interactions between them and other characters, particularly magnus because 1- admittedly i'm a hoe; and 2- magnus was clearly the one that had the most experience talking to seelies and that others relied on for that communication. he also seemed to be the most comfortable with them, which indicates there is either some sort of history there, or magnus just happens to feel relatively at home with the workings of their culture. which makes sense, because magnus also had to develop pretty similar defense mechanisms due to his, A- work as a warlock representative who has to interact with shadowhunters on the regular; B- history with having to deal with asmodeus, which required him to be very smart about what he disclosed and how, especially considering that he had to have been planning banishing asmodeus for a long time before he got to do it; and C- just history with abuse in general. we've seen the way he closed his heart off to new people; but at the same time, magnus is obviously an extrovert and likes to be around people in general. this meant that, in order to be able to both be in the kind of environment where he thrives and protect himself/his heart/his feelings, he had to learn how to interact with people while putting on a convincing façade, which requires pretty much the same sorts of wordplay and defense mechanisms that seelies use

magnus is good at wordplay, he's good at using talking to his benefit; we've seen that. he is also good at hiding and deflecting. he is notably not good at directly lying - every time he directly said A Lie such as "i am perfectly fine and not bothered by this at all :)" it was way less convincing than it was a clear display that he wouldn't budge. even alec, who has difficulty with social cues, noticed the lying and seemed concerned about it. so like. clearly his defense mechanisms were less lying and more dancing around subjects, directing conversation to safe topics, and guiding people to making certain assumptions and seeing sides of his that were safer and he preferred

so in that way it makes sense that magnus is somewhat in his element when dealing with seelies. i think "comfortable" is a strong word because this whole song and dance takes a huge toll on anyone's mental health and energy (which i think is something that could be very interestingly explored in seelies, their collective psyche, and their culture, the way they build relationships, etc. let meliorn have partners they feel 100% comfortable talking without preamble with 2k21), but it's something he is used to and a dynamic he can fall into without as much effort as others who would be second guessing themselves more and going slower, which clearly gives the seelies, who are used to it, an advantage

and like i know that i'm implying a confrontation or sort of situation where they are on opposing sides to seelies here, which i kind of am because i am thinking mostly about magnus' interactions with the seelie queen specifically, since she was the seelie he had the most meaningful interactions with. his interactions with meliorn were very few and almost never relevant, i barely remember them happening outside of generic downworld cabinet interactions tbh. but i don't just mean that because again, stop villainizing seelies 2k21

i also mean just generally that magnus would be in a more comfortable position talking to seelie strangers and slowly working into building a relationship and mutual trust. and just generally understanding them and the workings of their culture because he can empathize with the way they have built their social defense mechanisms. no one is 100% truthful to strangers, but seelies always seem kind of- analytical. and the cultural difference + anti-seelie racism makes them seem untrustworthy to most people, but magnus Gets It, so the potential for friendships! and the mutual understanding and the relative comfort around each other! and both parts understanding the enormity that is letting their walls down gradually and being more direct as time goes by. like.... aaaaaa

and yes magnus becomes a sort of reference on talking to seelies, mostly because he is good at "playing their game", but also making it a point to humanize seelies and making the other parts understand where they are coming from and how they feel :) and just improving their relations, particularly with other downworlders

im not going to get into alec because 1- the relationship between shadowhunters and seelies is already filled with oppression and a lot of complications, and particularly now that the seelie realm is politically fragile due to the loss of their ruler (however terrible she might have been), it would play into either white savior narratives or just straight up colonialism, especially given how alec as a leader already has a history of trying to build tutelage over downworlders (i don't care what his intentions were, it's still true, and although he's learning... well. he's learning, continuous action); 2- that would be more a relationship of opposition and i'm not that interested in that. but i would love to see seelies rebuilding themselves and their relationships and alliances with other downworlders particularly, and all the better if magnus is playing a part in that :)

in short:

more seelies

more magnus with seelies, especially friendships

more focus on the politics of seelies now that the seelie queen is gone

more seelies

more seelies

more seelies

[crimsonandcloverwrites]

bhah ch8 reread as fast as i can before ch11 arrives help

aww Dani nervous for Jamie’s big race is so cute

i love Dani’s whole photography thing n her wanting to document their lives it’s so sweet

i’m suddenly stuck on the whole blue as a theme thing n now I’m noticing it everywhere/remembering their tent was blue and now their school colours are blue and Dani’s car is blue and I think Jamie’s house is blue. and of course THE SCRUNCHIE

god I love track star Jamie

flip these two are cute together

‘a favour for good luck’ god idk why this gets me so much I think like... Dani giving her this little piece of herself is so wholesome but weirdly loaded i just love it

the carson eddie banter is so funny sdkdhfgj

Dani is such a lil ball of emotions I’m obsessed w her feeling a million things while she watches Jamie

she’s a winner baby!!

also love that this is her setting the record that was mentioned in the prev chapter we love lil details being followed through

Jamie going straight for Dani when she won god that’s so cute

aw Jamie gets a kiss (and a whole gay crisis lol) for her win how sweet

oh no the beginnings of Dani and Eddie

pls this is so soft Carson and Judy so proud of Jamie

I just ate so many carbs I am finally properly fueled for this reading sprint (solidarity w Jamie)

aw Nan quietly proud of her

fkjdfh Dani and Jamie playing footsies at the table

god Nan n Jamie are such a force together truly terrifying to be stuck in the middle of I’m sure. Also fuuuck cld u imagine grown up Jamie and Nan interacting and Jamie in particular being a bit more chilled out and them getting along a lot better but finding their way back to silly little bickering arguments that are really just them knowing they can do that w each other and still be ok at the end of the day bc they love each other ouch it hurts to think about :(

lmao Jamie losing her mind at the sight of Dani in a towel lol I can just imagine her having the same reaction when they’re together too

oooh is the watch from Jamie’s great uncle (? Nan’s brother that she was named for right?) that’s so cool

ugh I want Dani to get her travel adventures so bad

god everytime Dani touches Jamie or says something really sweet or just gives her a look Jamie is suffering so bad

THE MIXTAPE (LITTLE BLUE DUDE SCREAMING AT THE SKY.MEME)

oh god they’re really just gonna curl up in Jamie’s bed and listen to this declaration of love mixtape while Jamie plays with Dani’s hair hold on a minute wait a second

oh no the eddie of it all

aw he brought her flowers (like I am not here for their relationship overall but he does do some sweet things sometimes and he does clearly care abt her)

ugh of course Jamie helped pick them out tho this whole situation is so complicated

god I’m so sad for both of them that their relationship ended up like this. Dani loses that friendship she cherishes so much when it becomes something else she never wanted and Eddie is in love w a girl who will never love him back that way. it really is heartbreaking

oh god the house party time for chaos

Jamie my beloved. sdkjfhsdkjfh and Roger trying to put the moves on her pls this will never stop being funny to me

ugh Dani already feeling so trapped in this life I hate it I hate it

Jamie fiddling w the coin necklace while she watches Dani n Eddie together feels like... she knows she’s losing Dani on some level ouch my heart

is this when Jamie was telling Ed of for letting Dani get drunk wdjkfhdj always the protector aw

she’s still wearing Dani’s scrunchie oh my god. u may have her hand ed but u will never have her hair ties

Dani’s dress MORE BLUE

this is such an interesting event w them like they’re best friends and they’re together so much but they avoid each other for half the party it’s so like... indicative I guess of things changing between them hmmmm

cursed spin the bottle. poor Dani

the zippo lighter. i love seeing things from the box in these chapters. like a gay scavenger hunt

the inadvertent cigarette kiss oh my god. also a little bit like... Jamie just leaning into the pain huh??? I get to put my lips where her lips were but it’s around this thing that has the potential to kill me. god the implications

a little fireside cuddling w ur soulmate ur never gonna kiss how romantic

the sandalwood. I fuckin love that she held onto this scent after Dani told her she smells nice one time. gays really do be like that huh

god this really is the softest moment

christ that almost kiss is so intense how did they just carry on as normal after that I would have died

lol “did i interrupt something?” bro........

dsfkjhdkj Jamie GROWLING at him hahhahahahhaha

oof Dani just wants more of her. I love there was the mention of her carefully constructed walls crumbling and now she’s just like... in this little bubble of almost with her n trying so hard to hold onto that in any way she can

and now she’s back w eddie ouch I hate watching the things she wants slipping out of her grasp

lmao Eddie not putting his arm around Dani when Jamie is there. she really put the fear of god in him I love this angry little lesbian so much

poor Carson being dragged to sports games like “no I’m gay I can’t”

lmao the pair of them trying to be sneaky smoking around the corner (and also having more Moments god the tension of it all)

oooh this Orpheus and Eurydice ref spicy (also fuck this was the beginning of her actually losing Jamie huh god the storytelling... *chef’s kiss*)

oh no Nan :(

god Karen is so awful how could u just break the news to your kid like that

it’s only pain hours from here on out huh

poor Jamie god my heart breaks

something about Dani saying she’s sorry and Jamie just saying she has to go put Mikey to bed fucking breaks me. the fact she’s just lost everything, her home and the stability she was missing from her childhood that she got to have for such a short time, and she can probably barely even process it but all she knows is she has to take care of Mikey. fuck

god her destroying her bike because she’s just so devestated but anger and destruction is easier to feel than being sad.... ouch

“You don’t - you don’t have to feel anything right now. I’ll feel it for you. For the both of us” how dare u make me cry like this

god Jamie giving the scrunchie back feels like such a fucking sad little acknowledgement of her deciding she has to do everything on her own noooo

Dani trying to confront her mom god this is all so much for them to be dealing with I am so sad

tiny mikey saying “want nana” so much pain

Jamie just clinging to Dani when they’re sitting in the pew bc it’s the only way she can ask for help right now ow

“Don’t fight me” my fcking heart this chapter is so sad I need a drink

Jamie is far too young to be self-medicating her way through this god this hurts to read.

this chapter has such a melancholic loss of innocence vibe like going from the teenage parties and boys and track meets and only really having to worry about themselves to this massive amount of responsibility on their shoulders when nan dies (like as much as Jamie tries to push her away Dani takes on a huge burden in trying to help her too) it’s so fucking saaaad

Jamie just breaking and finally crying all this out in Dani’s arms holyyyy shit that will never not break my heart

god Jamie just. determined to raise Mikey on her own cause god knows what the alternative is :(

oof the thread of Jamie determined to fix things. baby sometimes u just cant.

Dani trying so hard to hold things together in the ways that she can :*(

god this ending I am in pain. i know it’s ultimately for the best like Jamie and Mikey absolutely could not carry on like that but.... bro... bro..... ouch

ok gonna go cry in the shower for a bit n then i’ll be back for ch9

[josiebelladonna]

AGREED. and it’s made even weirder by the fact that we have so many puritanical people running around, too.

bro, one of specialties is erotica and i find it so weird that there’s sex in every ya book now while storytelling and morals and learning anything has taken a back seat. at least judy blume was willing to tell a story even if what she wrote seemed controversial, back in the 80s and now

and yes… it’s. it’s not good. in fact, it’s pretty pathetic in a lot of ways. i mean, if authors are going to keep doing this, can they at least explore more sexualities and genders, not just your standard “boy meets girl, insert penis in vagina” romance?

i’ve had the misfortune of reading a couple of books like that. they have this… i want to say car accident mythos to them where you know it’s fucked up but you can’t help but be morbidly curious about it

”mary sue” is one of those things were the original meaning seems to be completely lost to history because i can never find an accurate or satisfying definition of it

(case in point)

…the fact that exists

yeah, i… i can see that. what do you want to bet they only watched the movies and never even sniffed the inside of the books.

similar car accident mythos. i’ve usually seen “rich/well-to-do author writing about poverty/falling on hard times” and it’s always fucking hilarious.

mmm, she’s okay. my one drawback with her books is they’re very poorly marketed: they work way better as dramas rather than romance. i’ve seen her on goodreads, too, giving praise to shit like fifty shades and after, and my reaction to her is always “what are you even talking about”

not sure about this point here: the first few seasons of family guy, when he was onboard with it, are fantastic.

oh, yes, i’m tired of this, too. it’s like let’s move onto other realms of fantasy and sci-fi, shall we?

same story there

same story there, especially when legit mean girls i’ve had the misfortune of encountering are nothing like that

worse: runway fashion shows have actually picked up on this!

i’m an artist and i got real sick of this really quick, like jesus foot-fucking christ, everything needn’t look like a disney movie. you know we all bitch about art styles looking overly homogenous, can we do this at the granular level?

when i think of “golden skin”, i think of that episode of mythbusters where Adam puts gold paint all over his body 😂

i’ve (admittedly) done this a few times, but i usually use coffee as a metaphor, rather than… say, “chocolate”. clichés should be invitations to get creative.

way too many and it’s horrifying how prevalent it is.

i’m writing a fic right now that turns this sideways: he’s in a bad relationship but he literally can’t get out of it, and the heroine is like his escape.

yeahhhhh… no.

that’s called anorexia and it’s not only hell, but not all of us get down to skin and bones like that

you know what? i’d like to read a story about being a farmer. seems way more interesting and truthful than that.

*sigh* *looks at myself, heavyset recovering anorexic who started going gray at 17, has never been kissed even at 30, and hates internet bullshit like memes and dad jokes*

she has officially ruined everything good

it’s a little weird, too, because fairies are actually one of my fave fantasy tropes

More things I hate about modern literature because today is a bad day and I need to be a dick online to feel better:

How much sex there is in everything

And again I am not a prude, erotica has existed for decades and it's okay but every popular YA or adventure book nowadays is a bad erotica with some low stakes adventure in the background

And somehow they are able to be both bad porn and bad adventure

And also people will promote those books as " yes the plot kinda sucks but there's good sex scenes"

The word Mary sue

The misuse of the word Mary sue

Any attempt to make a "LOTR inspired" book made by a man

Because usually the things that made LOTR good go just over the authors head and we end with basically a vin diesel movie set in the middle ages

This is not just about modern literature but books about or set in horrible moments for a oppressed minority(like holocaust or slavery) written by people who aren't part of said minority

Coleen hoover

She did for feminist literature what Seth MacFarlane did for adult animation

The harry Potter/Percy Jacksonification of children's literature

The magical choose one trope being taken to a magical world did irremediable damage to children's literature

The mean girl trope

Books set in fictional middle ages but the protagonist go to balls in fashion show modern runaway style dresses

You know the tacky Pinterest glittery showing shoulders back and leg

Those official arts of the same exactly white women and the same white guy in slightly different clothes with the same 2016 style eyebrows and the sharp jawline and the nothing expression

Characters being described as "golden skin" so depending if the author needs some representation points they can be interpreted as people of color but if no one says nothing they stay as just tan white

Comparing dark skin color to any food

How many authors try to make at the same time "this is brainless wish fulfilment fantasy about being desired by a hot dominating guy" and " this is a profound take about the horrors of abuse"

Usually by having the second love interest to abuse the protag

In the end the message that stays is any abuse is forgivable if the abuser is hot enough

The "I'm skinny but not hot super model skinny I am ugly skinny my bones show because of malnourishment"

"yet I don't feel any other effect of starvation like being weak and I can carry five times my body weight in whatever animal the author needs me to hunt in the beginning of the book because making me a farmer wouldn't be cool"

"I am ugly" cried the skinny girl with locks of auburn hair porcelain white skin and eyes of emerald green.

The jk Rowling stupid name school (she named the werewolf Wolfy mcwolf in Latin and people though it was smart now we have a girl who fights on a island named island and the archer who marries a fae named fae archer )

And again faes because fuck faes

[spnshameblog]

you know i gotta say its very fun spinning all these conspiracy theories about lines that were cut, about rewrites, about last minute edits etc, but its literally just that to me. a little fun to distract me from the fact that i am allowed to be angry.

this show is incredibly good at gaslighting. it has been for years. they wrote, shot and edited all these moments and scenes KNOWING how fans would interpret them and still acted like they were crazy for connecting the dots.

and now that they gave us “what we wanted” in the worst way possible, we are made to feel like we’re entitled or greedy for expecting better. we quite literally were told “you got what you wanted”, when that is not remotely true. how the fuck is a tragic love confession in the 3rd to last episode, after which the confessor dies and the confession is never mentioned again “what we wanted”? how am i crazy for watching this incredibly emotional scene and expecting literally any sort of follow-up? how am i entitled for expecting them to have the story progress in a logical way? am i supposed to believe that this is normal? am i supposed to believe that you dont need a resolution to this big of a set-up? how the fuck am i delusional for thinking it makes no sense to not follow up on a love confession and the death of a major character?

i have no idea who makes these decisions. i have no idea who ultimately decided how this was going to play out. but someone sat down and decided they were going to give us a onesided confession that was never going to get mentioned again. and, as i said, we can put our heads together and speculate about the secret good finale that never was, but here is the thing: i firmly believe that finale never existed.

i’m convinced this was all planned out from the start and the confession was literal bait to get as many people as possible to watch the finale. they knew there was a huge amount of “former fans” still listening with one ear and they knew they’d get us with this and it worked lmao! their plan literally succeeded. we made it trend immediately and have not calmed down since! gay people are the best kind of pr machine lol!

so they kill castiel, knowing full well that nobody believes he is actually dead when supernatural has a history of bringing ppl back from the dead and just to keep everyone hooked they have fucking lucifer imitate castiel on the phone and we get dean demanding he be brought back. just to keep people thinking that something else HAS to be coming, bc why else bring it up right?? If we were supposed to just accept that casteil was nt going to appear again, why not.... end the conversation instead of LITERALLY DANGLING THE OPTION OF BRINGING HIM BACK IN FRONT OF OUR FACES.

and now that the biggest amount of viewers possible has been conned into watching the finale they can really just do whatever. i mean the show is over anyways, why the fuck should they continue pandering to the gays lol, its not like they need us to keep the show alive anymore. and maybe if the make the finale as bro-ey and devoid of romance as possible they can get the “normal” fans to follow jared into his new show, idk.

they literally went right back to gaslighting after 15x19. the stupid pre-finale thing was mainly to establish the fact that the show is and always has been about the brothers and their car. they rushed through a few of the other characters, but carefully didnt give castiel any special treatment, he was just a random minor character after all lol oh and they didnt even mention eileen hhhhh. all to have something to fall back on in case anyone really expected them to do something more with the ~thing~ they set up in 15x18. its really your own fault for expecting more, after all the show was only ever about the two brothers, look, you can see it quite clearly in the special pre-finale episode we made. we tried as hard as possible to fit the word “brother” in there as many times as possible, just to drive it home.

in short: no, i dont believe tptb EVER intended to give us a satisfying ending to the destiel set up and think the confession was the definition of queerbait. dont let them manipulate you into believing you are asking for too much when you expect the trail of crumbs lying in front of you to lead somewhere.

for the record: i dont know whom to blame for this mess, the only people i’m not side-eying are the actors and writers of 15x18. I thought the scene was beautifully written and acted and i know they edited out a lot of dean’s reactions to tone his side of the scene down. I dont blame misha, jensen and bobo and i think it was meaningful for each one of them, but i also kind of hate them for making me care about a show that has no respect for me.

(also this post is specifically about the destiel stuff, i didnt even touch on eileen, blurry wife, the fact that deanshould have retired and should not have died a hunter and the other instance of bury your gays in the last three episodes. oh and the fact that the finale was bad just from a neutral storytelling viewpoint. like wtf, we start off way too light hearted, we spend way too much time on them doing their daily routines and then the pie festival wtf?? the idiotic choice of having rando vampires as your final monsters that end up killing one of the main characters who literally defeated god last ep? john is in dean’s heaven?? cas is alive and just chose not to contact dean?? and then we have to watch a speedrun of sam’s life and death like??? this episode was just objectively bad.)

[wonderlandleighleigh]

85 Thoughts while watching Return of the Jedi

1. THE HELMETS ARE DUMB

2. I still love the idea that Stormtroopers fucking loved Vader, and all of the commanders were terrified of him. 

3. Vader helmet so shiny.

4. Back on Tatooine. It always comes back to Tatooine, doesn’t it? 

5. 3P0 was so hoping that the door wouldn’t open. He just wanted to go home. 

6. Everyone in Jabba’s palace looks really...gross. I guess that fits, right? Jabba’s palace is super gross, so.

7. I never understood as a child the slavery - and the sex slavery - aspect of Jabba’s palace. Only as an adult have I fully understood just how fucked up this is.

8. Remember kids, Luke has NO IDEA that Anakin was a Hutt slave as a child. Is there any canon stuff where he finds out about that? I’d be interested. 

9. Han’s carbonite face is so fucking dumb. 

10. Man droid torture is no joke. If that’s what they do to droids, think about what they do to people...

11. Oh god, the musical number. Like I thought it was funny when I saw it for the first time when they did the re-releases, but also, it’s this weird dissonance between that and Oola’s death. 

12. Jabba is so much creepier here than in New Hope. 

13. I love all the disguises and subterfuge in the opening storyline. And I love that they took the time to deal with Jabba and the bounty on Han’s head. It’s a nice break from the Galactic War. 

14. I remember watching this for the first time, and when Leia pulls the helmet off and is like “Someone who loves you” I was like OMG! And my shipper heart grew ten times as large.

15. Han is so...moist. Here. Blugh.

16. Ugh. God. Poor Leia. They do a good job of illustrating just how fucking terrible Jabba is, but...god dammit. 

17. Han and Chewie reunion! <3 <3 <3 

18. Luke Skywalker - Jedi Knight. Somewhere Mace Windu is looking at all of Luke’s attachments and impulsive behaviors and dry heaving. 

19. THE BIKINI IS GROSS! The only thing good about it is that Leia will eventually strangle Jabba to death while wearing it. Otherwise? Ugh.

20. Luke Skywalker. Jedi Knight. Fashion icon.

21. I always felt bad for the Rancor’s master. He loved his Rancor. And the Rancor was just as much a slave as any of the people in Jabba’s palace. It was probably only fed when there was a person Jabba wanted to kill so it would be as vicious as possible.

22. This trio is so bad-ass. 

23. Luke knows what the Sarlacc is. 

24. BANTHA HERD! 

25. Ugh. The Dune Sea is really fake-looking here.

26. R2 as waiter makes me so happy. It’s so ridiculous. 

27. “Convenient.” 

28. Anakin Skywalker would be so fucking proud of his daughter strangling Jabba the Hutt to death. It’s everything he ever wanted to do to fucking slavemasters on Tatooine. 

29. “Boba Fett. Boba Fett. WHERE?!” 

30. Per Dettiot: Luke went to Obi-Wan’s old hut on Tatooine and found the handbook to make his lighsaber, as well as some kyber crystals. What else he was up to between Empire and Jedi, I’m not sure.

31. Knee. High. Chanel. Boots. 

32. The sheer utter chaos and destruction would make Anakin Skywalker kvell*. 

33. I don’t know if Yoda considers Luke his friend. More like just another snot-nosed apprentice who will eventually disappoint him. 

34. Leave us alone, Palpatine. What a fucking pruny piece of shit. 

35. Yoda’s death is so bitter-sweet for me. I love Yoda. But he made so many mistakes in his life that he never really owned up to. I suppose he felt that his exile was his penance. But I don’t know if I agree. He could have come out of hiding to aid the Rebellion. 

36. Also, he was planning to die without coming clean to Luke about Vader. And that is some horse shit.

37. “Suffer your father’s fate.” At least he’s admitting that Anakin wasn’t solely to blame. That there was manipulation there. 

38. “I can’t go on alone.” Go find Ahsoka and Ezra! You’re not alone!! 

39. The fact that Obi-Wan truly believed that that Anakin had died and Vader took his place. 

40. Yoda and Obi-Wan never moved on from their trauma. They keep reliving their trauma and so they cannot move forward, and so they keep making the same mistakes over and over. Asking Luke to kill Vader is proof of that. 

41. And it really shows that Obi-Wan, even after his attachments to Satine and Akakin and Ahsoka - does not understand family. Luke saying “I can’t kill my father,” and Obi-Wan being like “Whelp. There’s no other way so the Emperor wins.” 

42. There being no mention of Luke and Leia’s mother ANYWHERE except for the one moment later on, drives me CRAZY. Obi-Wan could have told Luke about Padme then.

43. I love that Han and Leia can sit next to each other in a meeting and not have to have arms wrapped around each other. Just being next to each other is enough.

44. GENERAL SOLO! Leia’s face. “Excuse you, how did you suddenly get hotter?” 

45. The painted backgrounds are so beautiful. 

46. Poncho game is strong in this movie. 

47. FLY CASUAL is such a stupid line. I love it.

48. Skywalker twin exasperation is the best. Padme would be proud. 

49. Leia just going for it is so so good. 

50. I know Ewoks catch a lot of shit for...well..being Ewoks. But I love them. They’re adorable! And they have no qualms about eating humans! 

51. “My Son.” I think this is the first time Vader has referred to Luke as his son to someone who isn’t Luke, instead of the “Son of Skywalker.” 

52.  Watch as we realize that Leia has been holding the one brain cell this entire time, and Han, Luke and Chewie get totally clueless. 

53. PROPER. 

54. I love Ewok tree houses. 

55. Remember kids. They were planning to eat Han, Luke and Chewie. 

56. Where the hell did that dress even come from that Leia is wearing??? They just had that lying around? 

57.  I guess they ate the last woman who wore it.

58. I love that 3P0 in New Hope, claims he’s not much of a storyteller, and then in the Jedi like is like a master storyteller lol. 

59. And here, we get the only mention of Padme. And it wasn’t even Padme. It was a handmaiden. I will forever be salty that Padme isn’t mentioned at all because George didn’t think of her until the prequels. Argh.

60. Luke’s unwavering belief in Anakin is so amazing. The sequels did that part of his character so dirty. This version of Luke would never have tried to kill his nephew. 

61. “It is too late for me.”  God dammit, Anakin. The thing is that if he goes with Luke, he is admitting that everything he has done for the last twenty years is all for nothing, and he just fucking can’t do it. So much denial .So much pain. Fuck you, Vaderkin.

62. EWOK ON A SPEEDER 

63. REX! A REX SIGHTING! YES! 

64. Y’all remember that Ewok movie with the blonde child? “Star cruiser crash!!” 

65. Padme would be so proud of Luke’s fashion.

66. Wedge got promoted! Yay! 

67. I love the old Hollywood trick of shadowing the Emperor’s face except for his eyes. 

68. I just. I love that the Empire is defeated by fucking teddy bears. I know a lot of people hate it, but it’s just- it feels so karmic.  They’ve done such terrible things. And to be taken down by these fuzzy, little bastards. *chef’s kiss* 

69. Palpatine hitting in that nerve that Luke has about his attachments. About his hope. Oof.

70. The entire Vader fight is just him trying not to see how much like Padme Luke is. That’s gotta hurt. 

71. Bro. Vader. You do not want to try shit with Leia. Like. No. Fuck’s sake. Don’t try it. She’ll have all of you arrested and then executed. 

72.  Yes Luke. Thow away that lightsaber. Show that wrinky fuck who’s boss. 

73. I love that Anakin gets to make the right choice here. He does what he didn’t do with Mace. He finally realizes all the lies...all the manipulation...that he can make things different. And he does. And it rightfully costs him his life.

74. Vader couldn’t survive. Vader would have been tried for his crimes and either executed or jailed for the rest of his life. The same thing happened to Ben Solo in the sequels. He had to die. Otherwise he’d have to have a real-world ending: Prison or execution.

75. I feel so sad that Anakin became this fucking horror show of a person. It didn’t have to be this way. Fuck. 

76. “Tell your sister...you were right.” 

77. Oh Han no. No no no. 

78. No Han.

79. HAN. 

80. Han’s face when he finds out Luke is Leia’s brother is hilarious. 

81. I wish that Rex and Ahsoka had been there when Luke burned Anakin’s body. I feel like they needed to, for their own closure. And Luke would have felt like he had people who understood. Who loved and knew Anakin before all of this. 

82. AND NOW WE PARTY! 

83. Let’s eat Stormtrooper! 

84. I am SO MAD that all of this will be undone by the sequel trilogy. Ugh.

85. I want them to refilm Hayden now that he’s just about the age Anakin would have been when he died as a Force ghost. I feel like that would be really nice. 

*Kvell -  Yiddish - to be bursting with pride 

[lovelylogans]

I 100% want to follow you down this path, please tell us the thoughts. The books were a source of frustration for me, because I knew there was a good story and characters in there somewhere, they were just fighting against the (and I say this with the knowledge that these are his only books I've read and I haven't even read these books in such a long time) shitty author. I would very much like to hear any and all rants, and I'm also excited that you liked Iggy! Iggy, Nudge and Max were good

oh he absolutely hired ghostwriters and that’s the reason the books are so inconsistent in plot, there was never a cohesive story except for the first two/three books. the story could have been So Fucking Fire but james MORON patterson said “moneyyyy” and decided to keep FUCKING going to the point where there is a SPINOFF SERIES that i REFUSE to read because i put myself through “nevermore” AND “forever” MULTIPLE TIMES there is NO WAY you can come back from THE APOCALYPSE?????? bro the world ENDED it’s a NUCLEAR WINTER they are STUCK UNDERGROUND

but yes. Opinions. 

look, i go into all this with the full knowledge that “james patterson” didn’t even care enough about the continuing arcs of plot to decide if his heroine’s hair should be blonde or brown (it switched several times; one time i went through and counted how many times it changed, and it was in the double digits) but I Care so here we go

uhhhh, maya/dylan was right fuckin there. it was RIGHT fuckin there and he didn’t even???? IT WAS RIGHT THERE!!!!!!! IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOD!!!!! THE REJECTED CLONE AND THE “PERFECT” CLONE THEY WERE RIGHT THERE AND I CAN’T EVEN REMEMBER IF THEY EVER MET

maya and dylan both deserved better, in terms of storytelling AND the hate they got from the fandom. dylan was nice, y’all are just mean

except for the part where max was understandably upset by fang leaving and dylan started calling her pathetic for Taking A Breather and Sitting Down In A Tree? fuck that. let the girl have emotions, she was fifteen

ari’s whole arc is HEARTBREAKING, however the fact that they just. brought him BACK from the dead and cloned him SO MANY TIMES let the poor seven-year-old rest in PEACE, PLEASE,

max should’ve been the one to murder jeb batchelder. also when they cast the movie, jeb batchelder’s particular Brand Of Evil can only be achieved by a white man

on the note of casting—max (and the martinezes) are latina, fang is described as “olive skinned” and dark haired so he’s likely also a poc, nudge is black. i watched the jenna marbles movie and like. max is bleach blonde in that movie. maximum “i cut my hair off with a kitchen knife” ride is bleach. blonde. when she is in HIDING in the MOUNTAINS. also ella and dr. martinez, i’m pretty sure, were played by white women, which, :/.

similar to jeb, angel has to be cast as the most White, curly blonde haired, blue-eyed little girl, like the most Innocent looking child possible, because her downfall is straight out of a horror movie. liked her in the first book but by now i would punt her across a football field

iggy was subject to so much ableism. he’s the same age as max and fang and yet he’s lumped in with the rest of “the kids” because he’s blind, he was left behind in the first book with the eight year old when the eleven year old got to come along, and iggy’s character overall deserved better. they describe his wings maybe once in the book and basically all his powers have to do with “regaining his sight” which has some FUCKING YIKES undertones

nudge was subject to Internalized Misogyny from max (which ofc was misogyny from the author) bc she liked to shop, and she enjoyed fashion and pretty things. i adore nudge and she deserved better and you know what, her wanting to stay in a human school and be “normal” was valid of her she was eleven

gazzy’s only personality traits being “farts” and “explosions” ....buddy i’m so sorry you deserved a bit more solid characterization you got flanderized so bad

liked fang but where the fuck did his “immortality” genes come from. legitimately what the fuck. mans DIED a couple books ago and now he’s iMMORTAL?

this bitch.... god him running away? the Letter kind of kills me but also like. bitch. your girlfriend is destined to save the world. she can handle herself. 

in retrospect it was the Most Gen Z Thing Ever for fang to run a blog. if they wrote the books today he would be doing tiktok dances in front of itex blowing up prove me wrong

angel was super overpowered. the mind-reading, mind-controlling, breathe-under-water, talks-to-fish, shapeshifting six year old also gets to be the one who saves the world when the WHOLE BOOK has led up to MAX saving the world??? right. yeah.

no seriously angel was FUCKED UP do you remember the way max REACTED to the chip in her arm in book 1/2 on the beach, and angel STILL KEPT PRETENDING TO BE THE VOICE?????? WHAT???????

the voice could have also been cool but that was fucked up, as was the rest of the plot.

NO SERIOUSLY DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN ANGEL STRAIGHT UP SIDED WITH GUNTHER-HANS AND POINTED A GUN AT MAX SHE WAS SUPER FUCKED UP

snot bubble. SNOT. BUBBLE. DO YOU REMEMBER THAT. THE FUCKING SNOT BUBBLE SAVED THEIR LIVES. WHAT.

i’m probably gonna think of more tbh but that’s what i’ve got right now